《Sonova》


 1.)Miizu and Motoko

    Chapter 1


    Will I watch somebody die today?


    Motoko Kawaguchi had been pondering the questions as she knelt patiently on one of the twelve mats on the floor in an empty room made of bamboo walls and polished oak floors and tables as she looked out the window. Each mat was furnished with a knee-high table, perfect for kneeling and writing during the meeting that was to start any minute now. Motoko had heard of other nations constantly using chairs for meetings and meals, which seemed impersonal and unusual for the people of Miizu. The Miizunese were a disciplined, dedicated, and structured people who prided themselves on achieving excellence...or literally die trying.


    Motoko checked her outfit and hair in a mirror on a nearby wall, looking herself over and making sure she looked properly groomed for this upcoming meeting. Her arctic blue hair seemed almost silver under a certain light, and it was pulled back into a ponytail and a headband across her forehead had helped keep her bangs from spilling into her eyesight. She had a gray and white patterned kimono with a silky black sash tied at her middle. She supposed she looked professional enough for the other women of importance coming into the meeting. While she had been in several meetings with the 12 leading women of Ryoko Village (or the Ladies Dozen as they were sometimes referred to) as an assistant to her mother, this was going to be the first time her mother had placed in her in charge of making decisions and being the voice of a leader in her communities. She had watched how her mother conducted during the hundreds of meetings she had brought Motoko to study and learn from; how and when she was to speak, what tones of voice to use when speaking to certain ranking people in certain situations, and most important of all, when to not speak at all.


    Motoko was listening to the gentle chirping of the birds in a tree right outside the town hall building she had resided in. Town Hall had been a large, multi-leveled building that stood several levels higher than any other building that resided in the city, and one of the tallest buildings in the entire nation. The only other buildings that stood taller were the City Hall buildings in Ji-Woo and Xho City, but those were also made several centuries after the Ryoko Village City Hall, and also with the intent on surpassing its size. And even though the tallest building of the three stood at an amazing 14 floors, there had been certain people Motoko had met who scoffed at the number, saying in nations like Ryn and Ghald they had buildings that were almost a hundred stories. Motoko knew they were lies. Motoko had read and seen evidence of what happens when a building stood too tall; most of the time the buildings would collapse to one side by the blow of the wind, even when the buildings were made of the strongest and sturdiest woods in the land.


    Motoko heard the fluttering of the singing birds¡¯ feathers as they took flight from the sound of people approaching. A moment later, the shoji, the paper-thin screen used as doors and walls in the building, opened and Motoko watched as the eleven other women leaders of the city strolled through, each entering a respectful distance from another. She noticed as the first two women separately entered that the seats were arranged much like the numbers on a clock, and the head Lady¡¯s seat sat in the 12 position. It was considered extremely rude to enter the room before the woman in front of you had at least reached her sitting mat, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was appear rude, uncultured, or ignorant of the respect that must be shown to a particular person or tradition. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for people to take their own lives when they felt they had failed in being honorable in the land of Miizu.


    Motoko tried not to stare at each woman as she entered the room. She knew about half of them by their reputations and learned over time how to conduct herself around them. She met with them for years in the meetings she attended and collected information on the small things about these ladies (what tea they enjoyed, what things irritated them while discussing business, etc.) and big things about them (what business they brought to Ryoko Village, and who their families and heirs were among other things.). But women who attended these meetings didn¡¯t always attend for themselves; sometimes a proper Lady would send a close adviser in their stead to act as their voice of reason. And the representatives that may come work for one leader would change over the course of years, months, or even as short as a couple of weeks if the lackey didn¡¯t fare well enough. Sometimes a leader would have two or three representatives that she could switch around in case she had multiple meetings in a day, or if she were to travel out of the city and needed multiple things to be attended to.


    As the women slowly piled into their assigned seats, Motoko took notice of the different color kimonos being worn by all the women. The kimonos were all colored with two colors and basic patterns, but made of the finest silks. It was customary to not be over-flashy with colors and heavy design work on your clothing; it was said too much would cause the eyes to focus on the clothes, and would take the eyes and attention away from the person wearing them. But purchasing fine material showed social status. It might not have looked like the kimonos were different to an untrained eye, but each person in their city region, if not the entire nation, had understood when they were in the presence of somebody of high class simply from the materials their clothes were made from. Motoko wondered what a foreigner might have thought if you asked them to point out the highest-ranking person in the room based on their clothing.


    When all of the seats and tables were filled aside from the seat at a floor mat with extra cushions and a wider table set for the seat of the head Lady, the rest of the ladies waited quietly and motionlessly. It was customary for the most important person in a meeting to arrive last, seeing as a leader had an entire city to care for and their busyness should reflect that. Some leaders would make their pupils wait nearly an hour in their stillness just to flex some of their power and make sure their underlings knew their place. But, as everyone in Miizu was aware: if a leader chosen to rule by the people is demanded to leave office before their official term is over, they were to pay the failures to their people with their life.


    This was the very thing Motoko knew this meeting was about. One of the men given minimal power in the community was slacking on his duties. Motoko had no idea which of the handful of men who had been given authority had been messing up, nor did she know how bad. Some of the men were given warnings as to how horrendous a job they were doing before they had the office meeting to request they sacrifice their lives.


    The ladies continued sitting in silence, some did minimal moving as they looked through notes they had on their personal table. Motoko wondered if the pages and pages of notes were about the meeting they were about to attend? Pages of notes weren¡¯t a good sign if you were being called in by the Ladies Dozen; it was proof of your insolent mistakes written down over the course of time that any of the twelve ladies or their followers were paying attention to.


    Some of the things people may have been accused of could be petty, a sign that one of the Ladies simply didn¡¯t like you. It didn¡¯t matter the weight of your crime, but rather the number of women who had voiced their concerns. If one-third of the council had decided to voice their unhappiness towards those brought for judgment, your only hope was that this was a warning meeting and not a meeting to discuss your death. If half of the council or more had shared this displeasure, your death was more a matter of if you wanted to honorably end your own life, or if someone had to cut you down and be remembered as a coward.


    The room¡¯s door slid open again, and every lady kneeling at her table began to bow as low as they could on the ground. Motoko could hear the footsteps of Lady Megumi walk light and seamlessly across the conference hall, while a few of her body guards thumped and loudly shuffled to their positions around their sworn leader. While she had heard eyes closed, she could still hear and see in her mind¡¯s eye how Lady Megumi had spread papers on her table in a specific order to how important they were. There was a moment of shuffling papers before she had spoken, ¡°Rise.¡± was all she needed to say.


    The group had listened and began to rise off the floor in unison, some of them needing to smooth out the wrinkles in their clothes or straighten their hair once more. Motoko looked at Lady Megumi and felt the same pride inside her swell just like any other time she had seen her fearless leader. Lady Megumi had dark and deep blue hair, styled in the same manner as Motoko. Motoko copied her hair style once she had realized how much she respected Lady Megumi and wanted to counsel with the same mercy- and occasional ruthlessness that was necessary- and shown by her Lady. Lady Megumi¡¯s kimono was the purest white in color with black trimming around the neck and cuffs of the arms and bottom of her kimono, her sash a blood red. There was a beautifully printed crane about to take flight on the back of her kimono, the most decorative Motoko had ever seen. While most people might have been scolded or talked about for being too bold and loud with the concept of designs on kimonos, Lady Megumi was exactly the type who could pull it off. People both respected it while knowing they couldn¡¯t present the fashion as well if they ever tried to imitate her boldness.


    ¡°Thank you, Ladies, for coming today. I know many of us have plenty of work that needs attending to, so I¡¯ll try to not take up too much of our time today. Before we discuss the main reason that brings us here today, is there any other news, issues, or anything of the like that needs discussing?¡±


    A few hands shot up in request to speak. It was rare to have a meeting where nobody had anything to say; every meeting had at least a couple ladies who had some type of news or business problems they wanted to be able to vent about. It was rumored that the only type of meetings they proceeded without any questions or complaints were the meetings that were designed to be entirely a death sentence. Some of the proper Ladies couldn¡¯t wait to get rid of those below them that were given authority, half of the reasons tended to be personal or petty. One woman might have felt like a businessman had cheated her in a sale, which was a more reasonable reason for being called for a meeting as past meetings had indicated. Another woman simply might accuse and set up meetings for a man who had feelings for another woman or simply didn¡¯t reciprocate the feelings mutually, one of the pettier reasons a man had found himself full of holes and loss of limbs.


    Lady Sakura, a tall and thin lady in a lavender kimono with eyes bunched too close together and two prominent buck teeth that made her look like a whisker-less rat, was first to raise her hand and Lady Megumi made note of it as she allowed her to speak, and the other hands fell silently.


    ¡°Well, to start off this meeting with some good news, as overseer of the rice industry in our region of Miizu, I¡¯m proud to announce that we are well stocked and harvested for the longest and harshest of winters, so long as we don¡¯t populate a few thousand more babies in the next coming months.¡± Lady Sakura announced, not hiding the fact that she was pleased with the work and news she had to offer to the community. ¡°My advisers of the fields have told me that we may even have enough to spare for a week-long festival to celebrate the upcoming Ceremony of the Moon, to bring good vibrations and good fortune to those who are to be wed and end the cycle of daemons. That is if miladies have enough resources aside from food to provide for the occasion?¡± there was a smugness in her voice, and Motoko was almost positive that she didn¡¯t try to hide it at all. Motoko knew that Lady Sakura had rarely even gone out to the rice and vegetable fields she owned, let alone did she do any of the actual work involved in making it happen. She was simply a manager who was over-crediting herself, and Motoko was certain the same thoughts were on the minds of every lady here. Lady Sakura was, at times, much too full of herself.


    The ladies took turns going around the circle, each sharing what goods and services they could provide for the festival if it were to happen. Lady Asuna, a fat, short woman in a light orange kimono who seemed as jolly as she did heavy, said she had provision of wood for the stands for the market and other constructive needs that might have had to go for the festival, ¡°So long as nobody decides to burn the village down first.¡± she joked. Lady Naru, a woman in a forest-green kimono and in her forties with graying hair and a slight hunch, mention she had fields of fabric being harvested over the last few weeks, and while she was fairly sure the numbers were good enough to make cloth and tents and specialty clothes and costumes, she needed to wait until the end of the week to view the numbers to avoid giving a false promise. Young Shizuru, a young assistant of Lady Yumi in her late-teens and a sky-blue kimono, had mentioned that her proper Lady hadn¡¯t sent her notes of anything of a festival, seeing as it wasn¡¯t a planned topic of the meeting, and would need to relay and give information at a later date. They made their rounds around the table until they concluded that, as long as the few ladies who stated they most likely could help actually could provide what they were asked of, then the festival was going to be a go. They planned for it to happen in three months, a couple months after the actual Ceremony of the Moon, but it wasn¡¯t as if the people of Miizu were going to complain; a festival was a rare and special treat that gave everyone an excuse from their regular duties.


    The conversations shifted between different needs and reports. Daemons had been scouted several miles southeast of Miko, a village far to the north that bordered along the Xho City providence, and people wondered if it was wise to send their own troops since they were a part of their own providence, or if they should expect Xho City to lend aid, seeing as they were closer. The Ryoko Village, Xho City and the city of Ji-woo, a major city to the south, were capital of a province that split the nation into three ways. While they all spoke the same native language, as well as the common tongue, they had very different approaches to life.


    The people of Ji-woo and the cities under its name were peaceful people who believed in accepting the unfair conditions life had to offer and being able to find peace among the fiercest chaos. Ryoko Village and all its cities had believed in crafting perfection in all things, whether it was fighting, cooking, woodwork, or education, Ryoko Village and its fellow people pushed to be the best they could be. The people of Xho City were fierce warriors who wanted to expand and conquer the nation of Miizu by finding a way to send large-scale forces through the barrier. War and domination seemed to be their only focus, though luckily, they didn¡¯t have eyes on anything inside their own nations¡¯ borders. Each capital city had a leading lady, like Lady Megumi for Ryoko Village, and a council. The three cities did their best to help lend a hand with each other as far as trade and keeping daemons away, but sometimes their differences in philosophy and lifestyle had caused them to not get the best end results.


    ¡°Now,¡± Lady Megumi said after a period of silence once the questions and comments stopped flowing, her voice going from casual to a shade darker. ¡°I think it¡¯s time we finally got to the matter that brought us here. Could you please find Mr. Kawahara and bring him in here, and you two, could you please bring in the red mat, please." She spoke to the four women who acted as her bodyguard, standing still and statuesque while the rest of the room stood. All four women nodded, acknowledging her commands in silence as they dispersed in groups of two. After the two left, Lady Megumi looked back at the circle of women who had filled the room. ¡°Are we all sure this is a meeting that is necessary? It¡¯s not too late to call it-¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re entirely too certain.¡± Lady Sakura said icily, before forgetting who it was she had just interrupted. ¡°My apologies, my Lady, for my rudeness, but I think more than enough of us have had just about enough of Mr. Kawahara¡¯s... leadership.¡± She dressed the last word in cold sarcasm.


    Motoko heard a few of the other women stifle laughs and chuckles at the term. It was a well-known fact to both men and women of Miizu that men were given roles of importance only in the rare moments that leaders of other nations might need to have a meeting of diplomacy. Out in the rest of the world, men had ruled over everything from government to household ownership, from inheritances to even being able to tell a woman how to dress and live in certain parts of the world. 800 years before, when men had almost zero leadership roles given to them, the men of other countries didn¡¯t take the Miizunese women seriously. Some leaders were overly flirtatious and grabby, which resulted in a few men losing said hands. That didn¡¯t bode well for neighboring relations.


    The women of Miizu had appointed trusted men to fulfill the roles of ¡°power¡± in case anybody from the outside world wanted to make a trade or speak with someone of authority. The men were a puppet and the women the puppet-master, but it was a system that had worked for a majority of both parties. The women made sure that no man would ever crave the role or grow too power-hungry by placing certain rules upon certain roles. Mr. Kawahara had been appointed as Mayor of Ryoko village, the highest honor a man could carry. But with high honor came with high risks.


    One of the groups of body guards who had left came back into the room, each holding what looked like a large, red rolled-up scroll each end several feet away from each other. They had set down the large, thick parchment on the floor and unraveled enough for an even, red square to fill up the center of the room. Most of the giant roll of the red material was still raveled, as if there were miles worth of the material bundled up. Once the process was over, the body guards stood next to Lady Megumi, resuming their tranquil stillness. It had taken nearly twenty minutes before there was a knock on the support beams of the paper door.


    ¡°Come in.¡± Lady Megumi announced.


    The remaining two bodyguards were first to step into the room, going straight to the same spots they were standing before they left the room. A moment later, Mr. Kawahara slowly and almost fearfully inched into the room. He had looked all around, from each one of the ladies, to the body guards and their weapons, the rest of the room d¨¦cor, and then back at the ladies, moving as slowly as possible to the middle of the red square floor that was laid out without being too obvious that he was stalling. His uneasiness didn¡¯t seem to diminish once he was in the middle of the room, center of unwanted attention.


    Soichiro Kawahara was a man in his mid-30s, with thinning and receding navy-blue hair, and a pencil-thin mustache, his roundish face reminded Motoko of a river otter turned human. Mr. Kawahara was somebody in her community Motoko had mixed feelings about. Growing up as a little girl, he was an older teen who was a wondrous help to his family and neighboring houses. He had helped Motoko¡¯s mother and grandmother with several chores that weren¡¯t his responsibility, simply because he had spare time and a gentle heart. And almost every time he had come over, he brought Motoko a treat of candy or a small toy she could play with. While she had never gotten to know him on a personal level, she had pleasant memories about him.


    However, as she grew older into her teen years, and he was still in his twenties, Motoko couldn¡¯t help but notice him staring at her every now and then. It took a long time for Motoko¡¯s battle-ready mind to grasp the fact that he had been eyeing her body as she changed from a child to a woman, and the glances and stares only grew in number as the years passed. He had never made any type of advances, whether physical or verbal, but the looks were enough to send a creeping chill down her spine. Even in the land of Miizu where the age of consent was considered to be the moment a girl started to bleed, Motoko couldn¡¯t help but feel that he should be more attentive to women his own age. But as it turned out, he was interested in just about anybody who was old enough to bed. He was caught more than a few times peeping into the out springs on the outskirts of town. There was no shame in nudity in Miizu, women could walk the streets topless on the hotter days that involved working outside. But it became something different when a man went actively looking for shapely bodies.


    Motoko didn¡¯t know how this meeting was about to go for him, nor did she know how she felt about either option. He was just as kind to her and others in the village as he was a perverted creep, and that was the internal struggle for Motoko on this matter. Honor and duty first, she could hear her mother¡¯s repeated words over the years. No love, no family, no faith nor history should derive you from your duty and honor as a woman of Miizu. She knew the truth was doubled for her since she was a high ranking and respected warrior.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara, thank you for arriving here today.¡± Lady Megumi said politely, giving her head a small bow to show courtesy. He matched her bow with a slightly lower one, showing his respect, but not showing desperation by bowing too low. It was often seen as guilt if one was to bow too low when uncertain of being summoned by a person of high authority, her mother¡¯s voice rang in her head from another lesson at another point in her life. A Miizunese person should show as much respect for themselves as they do for their community, whether it be peers or superiors.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m honestly, n-not too sure...¡± Mr. Kawahara tried putting on a brave face and a joking smile, but everyone could smell the fear behind his facade. His eyes kept darting from Lady to Lady, trying to get an analyst of the reason for the meeting, and what his fate might be.


    ¡°Well, for starters, can you tell us your name and title?¡±


    ¡°My¡­?¡± he was about to repeat, and thought better of it. He cleared his throat and tried to reposition himself to look more confident. ¡°I am Soichiro, first son of the Kawahara name, and as of four years ago I was given the honor to be the mayor of this beautiful city.¡±


    Pretty words and flattery get you nowhere, Motoko could hear her mother¡¯s disapproving voice in Mr. Kawahara¡¯s attempt of flowery words. Especially for a proper Lady.


    ¡°And please, Mr. Kawahara, could you explain your responsibilities as mayor?¡± Lady Megumi smoothed out her dress as she remained as poise and elegant as a true leader should. There was no anger or malice in her voice, but there was no sense of favoritism or familiarity either. She was a firm-but-fair leader of her community, and any stranger who might have walked in the room would have picked up on that immediately.


    ¡°Well, my¡­ I-I guess, well- what I mean to say is-¡± Mr. Kawahara stammered.


    ¡°Today, if you and your rambling mouth could manage, Mr. Kawahara.¡± Lady Sakura said icily, and a round of stifled laughs could be heard. If it was possible, Mr. Kawahara¡¯s shoulders would have slumped even more, Motoko thought. She couldn¡¯t get past the feeling that perhaps Lady Sakura and her rat face had been behind this possible-execution. While Mr. Kawahara had been pervy from time to time, he at least tried to hide his shameful acts, whereas Lady Sakura seemed to hatefully mean without thought or consideration.


    ¡°Right, well¡­¡± Mr. Kawahara took a deep breath and tried to find his composure again. Seeing this man shake like a leaf made Motoko wonder why he was chosen to be the leader of this city, but after getting a look at Lady Sakura¡¯s overly smug face, Motoko couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she had set him up for the job knowing he might end up with this type of performance review before his five years were over. ¡°My responsibilities as mayor is to make sure every person in this region of Miizu is as protected, well-fed, educated and given honorable jobs as well as possible by working along with you proper Ladies and your industries. It is my job to help fulfill the needs of the village, and to you Ladies, by any means necessary.¡±


    ¡°And do you know the punishment for failing to help your village or your Ladies?¡± Lady Megumi asked. Motoko wondered how it was that she was able to keep her voice steady enough to not throw hints as to what she might be thinking. Even though Motoko could sense things probably weren¡¯t going to end well with Mr. Kawahara, the way Lady Megumi spoke gave equal parts to both hope and despair at the same time.


    ¡°If I am summoned for a performance review, the Ladies may take a turn to question my worth to the community. If she has proven facts of disapproval, and I have no evidence to defend myself, each lady is allowed to make a shallow cut to give me the scars to remember my lessons of failures. And if...¡± Mr. Kawahara couldn¡¯t help but gulp. ¡°...and if more than one of the Ladies have made me bleed, any ladies with any issues of mine may slice, stab and gouge anywhere on my person, as deep or limb-removing as they feel necessary for my crimes.¡± And a man must do so without any resistance, or he automatically forfeits his life, and any man who cries out or weeps while being hacked away at will be dishonored as a coward who couldn¡¯t face death like a true resident of Miizu, was the part of the whole situation Motoko knew was on everyone¡¯s minds but nobody¡¯s lips. A man had to simply accept getting mutilated with quiet disregard.


    ¡°And you knew of these consequences of the position, yet you took it anyways, correct? There have been many men who take their own lives the moment they are given the title of mayor to avoid being bludgeoned by the Ladies of this land. What made you think it was worth the risk?¡±


    ¡°Well, my Lady¡­ I thought¡­ I thought I could bring my family honor. I thought I could do enough to help the community in any way that I could.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Lady Megumi said, as if his answer was only something he thought they wanted to hear. ¡°But what made you decide to take the position? What was in it for you? What benefits were there?¡±


    ¡°Well, a man who serves his five years fully gets to live a life of free food for himself and family, and he gets to move his mother and sisters into a house among the tree branches like the other rich and noble families. A man who lives in the mansions among the branches is said to be favorable and desirable for a woman to court or be invited into her bed. The combination of these things was what made me feel that I could do a fair job and succeed at this job, my Lady.¡±


    ¡°And how do you feel you¡¯ve done with the job so far?¡± Lady Megumi questioned.


    ¡°There are no starving families, and we¡¯ve harvested a great amount of food to last the winter, and we¡¯ve pooled in enough resources to hopefully have a festival, I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    Mr. Kawahara spoke with as much confidence as he could muster considering the situation, but Motoko couldn¡¯t help but notice an amused smile on Lady Sakura¡¯s lips, as if his confidence was a paper-shield and she had an ace in the hole to destroy it. Other Ladies were more stone-faced but delight could be read in their eyes. Motoko checked the rotation order, and noted that Lady Sakura was sixth in line for contributing her evidence against Mr. Kawahara. As long as three of the Ladies before her didn¡¯t have anything against Mr. Kawahara, he had a chance of surviving. Motoko knew that Lady Sakura was out to get him, but she had no idea why. Motoko was the eleventh in line, the second-to-last before Lady Megumi herself. Motoko didn¡¯t have anything to say against him, but she was one out of twelve, and she didn¡¯t know if there were any secret grudges being held against him.


    ¡°Well, Mr. Kawahara, if you¡¯re ready, I would like to get this meeting under way.¡± she waited for him to give a small, shy nod of forced approval, knowing there was no honorable way out of this other than going through with it. She turned to her left to the first Lady to give her testimony. ¡°Go ahead, Lady Asuna.¡±


    The jolly and round woman had nodded, and opened a drawer in the table in front of her, and all the noble Ladies had done the same thing. Each woman took out a ceremonially dressed dagger, each with the same black and silver sheath and red feather attached to the tail end of it. It was a weapon made only for council judgments, passed down from council member to council member for nearly a thousand years. Lady Asuna waltzed up to stand only a few feet in front of Mr. Kawahara, just barely out of arm''s reach before drawing the blade from the sheath, which was customary to the tradition. The person being judged would listen a lot more intently to the things they¡¯ve done wrong if their judge¡¯s weapon was drawn and taunting before it feasted on blood and flesh.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara...¡± she said, in the most serious tone Motoko had ever heard come out of the happy-go-lucky woman. But as quickly as her smile faded, it returned. ¡°As much as your house smells like fried catfish most of the time we walk past,¡± a few chuckles come from the group. ¡°I don¡¯t find any wrong or disservice you¡¯ve done for me or any of my industries.¡± she sheathed the blade, the traditional and official sign that there was no harmful intent, and he had been cleared of his first judgment.


    ¡°Thank you, Lady Asuna,¡± Mr. Kawahara said customarily. It was considered extremely rude to not thank a person for not slicing you open, and a Lady might change her mind if a person didn¡¯t show their courtesies. Lady Asuna gave her usually cheerful smile as she gave a small bow and returned to her seat as Mr. Kawahara nervously awaited his next judge.


    Young Shizuru, the assistant for the missing Lady Yumi, was next to rise, along with the sheathed blade. Unlike how most women were during a time of judgment, Shizuru had been easy to read as far as her intention for Mr. Kawahara¡¯s fate, which was highly nervous. It wasn¡¯t her fault; Motoko couldn¡¯t think of a time that Shizuru might have seen this type of tradition in person, let alone cast judgment upon somebody. She held the blade anxiously, almost holding the sheath shut as she walked up. Motoko wondered how many other women could read Shizuru¡¯s behavior and what their thoughts might be on the situation. She walked up and gave Mr. Kawahara a small bow and an even smaller smile.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara,¡± her voice nearly exploded in volume, showing how nervous she had been. She cleared her voice and tried to compose herself among all the peering and judging eyes. It was moments like these that made or broke assistants from becoming powerful women in their community. ¡°In our current time and place, my lady and I do not find any faults or disservice you¡¯ve done for us or any of our industries.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, la- Young Shizuru.¡± Mr. Kawahara almost slipped and announced Shizuru as a proper Lady, but caught himself. She returned his kindness with the same small bow and small smile before clutching the blade to her chest as she walked back to her seat, almost fearful the blade would spill out and automatically cut somebody. Well, two down, and nine other women to go.


    Without much more said, the third lady, Lady Naru, had risen with her blade and walked over to Mr. Kawahara, her face and demeanor significantly harder to read than Young Shizuru. Almost nearing the age of retirement and being a proper Lady for most of her adult life, the tougher times that Ryoko Village may have seen in her lifetime was etched into the growing wrinkles on her face, as well as the growing gray hairs. If anybody were to be given an award for having the best poker-face, very few would have contended with Lady Naru. Her forest green kimono barely moved as she gracefully walked from her seat to the center of the hall. Motoko wondered if her gracefulness came from years of battles she heard rumored, and if so, what type of monster Lady Naru was with a sword in her hand.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara,¡± she stated, and it still felt like nobody could tell if it was good or bad news. ¡°I have known you for many years, most of your life in fact, and in all that time you have never done anything to directly harm me, my family nor my industries.¡± It seemed like Mr. Kawahara was a bit relieved, but Motoko couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that it was too soon to know for sure. ¡°However,¡± the curtness in her voice brought back the fear into Mr. Kawahara¡¯s posture. ¡°Eight months ago, you were asked to order some important oils and paints for the artistic school that I run on the outskirts of town. When I went to receive the order, not only was it not available to be received, but you had forgotten to order it in general. I had lost three girls who were deeply interested in the class due to lack of product. Your forgetfulness has cost me some of my reputation, and for that, I cannot allow it to go unwarranted.¡±


    Motoko didn¡¯t even see Lady Naru removed the blade from its sheath before she saw the blade slash with a blinding speed, small patches of blood flew onto the matching red floor as Mr. Kawahara muffled his cries of pain and held the spot of his left leg he was sliced, still trying to stand as motionless and calm as he was just a moment ago. He covered the wound with one hand to try and keep the blood from falling onto the carpet. You cannot appear weak, even among the cruelest of judgments, Motoko could hear her mother¡¯s wisdom speak to her. Lady Naru quickly whipped her sword to remove any of the blood that clung hungrily to the blade before sheathing it and returning to her seat without a single word being uttered. Motoko watched as she sat, and still couldn¡¯t tell if the harm she caused Mr. Kawahara was something she generally didn¡¯t care about, or if her poker-face lived up to the reputation she had acquired.


    Lady Aori, the youngest of the Ladies on the council who had her blue hair a shade lighter than Motoko¡¯s and almost always dressed in a cherry-blossom shade of pink even when she wore more casual clothes, was up next. Motoko didn¡¯t know too much about Lady Aori, and half of the reason was due to the fact that she was so new and young to the council. Most of the young people growing up in the village were very good at doing what they were told, but not too much on how to think for themselves, and Motoko got that very impression from Lady Aori. She wanted to make her peers and superiors happy and respect her, almost too eagerly. She would most likely cast her judgment so that it would bode well with the Ladies of the council in the future. But even though Motoko didn¡¯t know what the general thoughts on Mr. Kawahara were for the room, she noticed that he looked almost more nervous of Lady Aori than he did Lady Naru.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara,¡± Lady Aori started, her voice strong and true, as if there was no doubt in the judgments she was about to set. ¡°It has been rumored that you like to peep in on some of the Ladies in our village. You have always done a good job keeping your eyes away from the Ladies of the council, but I was put on the council only nine months ago. Prior to that, I can count and recall a total of five times I have found you peeping on me, from the local hot springs all the way to my bedroom window, I have seen you catching a glimpse of my body. Do you deny it?¡±


    Mr. Kawahara opened his mouth to say something, but something held him back from doing so. Motoko figured he had something to say in his defense, but it probably wasn¡¯t enough to change the mind of Lady Aori or any of the ladies who had heard this tale of shamelessness. Cowards made excuses and people of honor faced the truth nobly, no matter how harsh it might be. Mr. Kawahara closed his mouth and simply shook his head before hanging it low.


    While the gash Lady Naru inflicted was deep enough to bleed a decent amount, it hadn¡¯t been as aggressive as Lady Aori¡¯s deep and forceful stab to his unscathed leg, directly in the upper thigh. She jammed the dagger into his leg, forcing Mr. Kawahara to muffle an even longer and painful cry of suffering. Anybody else in a different room wouldn¡¯t have heard his cries, and that¡¯s what a person being judged had wanted. Weaklings and fools made their pain and suffering noticeable. Motoko watched his face writhe with agony as he clutched to the new wound in his leg, rivers of blood spilling between his fingers, but he was determined to mute his suffering. Lady Aori cleaned her blade off with a handkerchief she had been carrying with her.


    The next lady, Lady Aimi, also had something against Mr. Kawahara, but Motoko lost track of it when she heard the sentence and another slight gash had been made across his chest this time. Luckily, Lady Aimi had been more merciful with her cuts than Lady Aori, and the blood barely trickled down far from the wound before his cotton kimono had soaked it up thirstily. The thing that distracted Motoko was the fact that not only was Lady Sakura up next for sentencing, but that she was the most likely the fourth person to cast judgment on him, meaning that death was more likely than ever now. If two more Ladies after Lady Sakura had decided he had wronged them somehow, it would certainly mean his life. Looking at the lineup of Ladies before her, she wasn¡¯t sure what they had on their minds as far as their verdicts. Even Lady Megumi, the only woman who would come after Motoko, had been a total mystery of how they paid attention to the trial or their reactions to other judges.Stolen story; please report.


    When it came to Lady Sakura¡¯s turn, Mr. Kawahara¡¯s face seemed to turn ghostly white. It may have been from the loss of blood, but Motoko couldn¡¯t help but feel otherwise. She knew that Lady Sakura wasn¡¯t going to pass a light sentence almost as much as he did, though she didn¡¯t know the reasons. He seemed to be equally disturbed as he looked down the line of remaining ladies, as if whatever hope he had of making it out alive had died as Lady Sakura stood to make her way towards him. Lady Sakura¡¯s eyes never left him, and though her face was straight and curt, Motoko could feel a sense of a grin hidden in her eyes.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara,¡± she spoke his name, her voice purring with what sounded like sweet justice. ¡°Not only Lady Aori judged you for peeping on her, for I hold the claim of you doing the same to not just me, but my daughters as well. And if that weren¡¯t enough for me to gouge out your pitiful eyes, your shipments of candies that were delivered to one of my general stores were infested with bugs, which contaminated a good portion of my inventory on that premises. You have cost me money, comfort and reputation. Do you deny any of my claims?¡±


    Again, Mr. Kawahara looked like he wanted to state something, but held his tongue. Unlike Lady Aori, Lady Sakura didn¡¯t give him enough time to thoroughly think of his response. She had given him a measly few seconds to respond, and when nothing was immediately said, she unsheathed her dagger, and plunged it deep into his lower torso. When she ripped the blade out of his body, Motoko noticed that Lady Sakura had sliced her blade jaggedly, cutting into more meat and nerves as she removed the blade, blood soaking every inch of the blade and spilling beyond the hilt. Despite the wounds to his legs, this was the first time Mr. Kawahara didn¡¯t have the strength to stand any longer. He dropped to his knees, all of his energy spent on keeping as silent as he could.


    Two more Ladies had cast their resolutions positively, not harming Mr. Kawahara anymore, but even though they didn¡¯t harm him, Mr. Kawahara seemed almost lifeless, his thanks and words empty of any emotion. They were as empty as his eyes were beginning to be. Two ladies before Motoko¡¯s turn, Lady Sango had sentenced more pain for Mr. Kawahara: not finding anybody outside of the city who might be able to trade for fresh seafood goods as he had promised her months ago. Lady Sango still had three months of product waiting to be moved and about to go bad, and there hadn¡¯t seemed to be anything Mr. Kawahara was doing about it. Lady Sango had made a vertical cut among his chest, making a cross shape cut with Lady Aori¡¯s first cut to the chest.


    The lady before Motoko had not found anything wrong with Mr. Kawahara, or if she had, she had decided it wasn¡¯t worth bringing up. Mr. Kawahara¡¯s breathing was raspy and heavy, one of his eyes closed from the pain he was suffering through. Motoko couldn¡¯t tell if the others were aware of Mr. Kawahara¡¯s condition, but from all the bodies Motoko had seen over the years of battling both men and daemons, she knew when a man¡¯s life was nearing its end. Motoko felt eyes shift towards her as it was her turn for a sentence.


    Motoko stood up slowly, and made her way over at the same type of pace. Her mother had left her no instruction on Mr. Kawahara, and there hadn¡¯t been any mention of ill-will towards him either. Motoko was here as her mother¡¯s stead, and she needed to act accordingly. Mr. Kawahara most likely wasn¡¯t going to make it from this point on, whether Motoko and Lady Megumi caused more suffering or not. Motoko saw that Mr. Kawahara wasn¡¯t even paying attention to who was coming towards him. His mind drifting somewhere else entirely now. Most likely the afterlife by now, Motoko thought sullenly. Her hand grip tightened around the blade, trying to steady her nerves. The little girl who received sweets from Mr. Kawahara that laid deep inside Motoko had felt pity for the man. The teenage girl who had felt defiled by his eyes felt nothing for him. Duty and Honor before all¡­ Her mother¡¯s voice preached. She knew what she had to do.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara,¡± Motoko spoke and he barely lifted his head in her direction. ¡°I, General Motoko Kawaguchi, daughter and assistant to Lady Nobu have come to judge you in this performance review.¡± She could feel the eyes of the other Ladies bore into her, searching for the conclusion Motoko had come to in her mind. Whether they wanted Mr. Kawahara dead, alive, or thought indifferently, Motoko knew they all had an interest in what she had to say. ¡°While you have been a friendly neighbor to me and an influential person in our community and while my mother has left no instruction to pass negative judgment on you,¡± she took a deep breath, finding the strength to continue her words. ¡°I, too, have grown weary of your perverted gazes not only to me and the ladies of this room, but of other ladies in our community, such as my younger sisters. And as the sixth person to pass judgment on you, I forfeit your life and sentence you to die.¡±


    Mr. Kawahara didn¡¯t seem to hear her, or perhaps he had already known his fate when Lady Sakura had made her voice and concerns known. Whether he had accepted his fate or was too far out of his mind with the blood loss, he made no reaction to her sentencing. Motoko took another deep breath. Within a flash, Motoko was already cleaning her blade and sheathing it once more. It wasn¡¯t until she started walking away that the other Ladies saw a thin red line start to spread across his throat, and she was halfway toward her seat when the blood started to flow from the cut. Every passing second, the blood started to ooze more rapidly. Mr. Kawahara, with the empty eyes of a lifeless soul, gripped his throat, but the blood poured between his fingers and dripped onto the same colored parchment. Mr. Kawahara fell face first into the floor and gave a few short shutters before the whole room heard his last shaky breath leave his body. There was a stillness in the whole room, almost as if to respect the passing of the man that laid slain due to their verdicts.


    When a moment had passed, and a pool of blood started to form around the entirety of Mr. Kawahara¡¯s corpse, Lady Megumi nodded her head to two of her bodyguards before eyeing Mr. Kawahara¡¯s fresh corpse. The two walked over and one of them had started to roll the parchment over the body, layering it and rolling it over itself while the other bodyguard fed more parchment from the large roll they brought in. When Mr. Kawahara¡¯s body was wrapped up enough to no longer show any bloodstains, the two bodyguards picked up the body from each end while other body guards opened the sliding doors to let them pass.


    ¡°I want you to make sure you cremate his body, as is customary for our leaders, and give the ashes and remains to his family for them to spread.¡± Lady Megumi instructed her women in battle.


    ¡°Yes, My Lady.¡± the two who were carrying the body stated in unison.


    ¡°And be sure to let Lady Katsumi, Mr. Kawahara¡¯s mother, she has been given clearance to move her and her daughters into the open house on the third branch of the Blessed Oak.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?!¡± Lady Sakura roared in disbelief. The outburst startled everyone in the room, and the two body guards bowed respectfully to do their bidding, almost as if to avoid whatever drama was about to ensue. ¡°You can¡¯t mean it, Lady Megumi. To have the family of such a¡­ a...¡± Lady Sakura was looking for a word that was both insulting but not overboard, but Lady Megumi lifted her hand to politely interrupt.


    ¡°Mr. Kawahara may have been the things many of you have judged him for today. And he may have failed a couple of you and your businesses with how he decided to run things. But this was the first time we had to talk to him for his lack of leadership in four years. He was a short seven months of walking out of that office with his honor and life. I see no reason to make his family suffer for the petty things that had claimed his life.¡±


    Lady Megumi¡¯s voice was ice. While it wasn¡¯t proper for a Lady to expose her emotions during a trial, there was no shame in discussing how people felt about the trial after the fact. Motoko could already tell Lady Megumi wasn¡¯t happy with the decision for Mr. Kawahara¡¯s life to have ended, and Motoko couldn¡¯t help but feel a pit of shame in her stomach. She wanted to do whatever she could do to make her Lady happy, to assist her in the best way she could, and yet her mother¡¯s words of ¡°duty and honor first¡± had mesmerized her into slitting the throat of a man Lady Megumi wanted to see walk out of the room.


    ¡°My Lady, surely you didn¡¯t want this pervert roaming around us for years longer?¡± Lady Sakura asked, spitting out the p-word like it was venom.


    ¡°I have nothing else to say on the matter. Anybody else who might have something to say about Mr. Kawahara, the trial, or any of my instructions for his family, then please speak now among the council, or save it for the gossip halls, for I don¡¯t want to hear a word of this once we leave this room.¡±


    The Ladies eyed one another, as if to double check to see if they had anything else to say. A few moments passed before Lady Megumi resumed. ¡°If there is nobody who wishes to speak further on the matter, then I announce this meeting over. Please see that all proper arrangements be made for the Kawahara family,¡± Lady Megumi¡¯s eyes seemed to glare and stare at Lady Sakura during these instructions, eyeing for any more outbursts. ¡°And we will meet again in a couple weeks to plan the affairs of the festivals. We will save the search for a new mayor for after we have had time to unwind and celebrate. You Ladies have a good day.¡±


    The room filled with muttering and scuffling as the Ladies all gathered their things and started to make their way through the door. Lady Sakura took her time, her face scowling and Motoko figured there were more than plenty of unpleasant thoughts lurking in her mind now. It wasn¡¯t just Mr. Kawahara that she wanted to put down, but his entire family, or at least based on her reaction to the whole meeting. Motoko had no idea what the issue between her and the Kawahara family might have been, but had a feeling that the Kawahara family was more innocent than her in whatever dispute they were having.


    ¡°Uh, not you Motoko.¡± Lady Megumi said curtly as Motoko had stood and headed toward the door herself. It wasn¡¯t only Motoko who froze, but almost half the room who hadn¡¯t left yet as well. ¡°I need to have a word with you. Alone.¡± Lady Megumi looked at the other girls as she said the last word, forcing the Ladies to leave the room in a hurried manner.


    Motoko could feel her heart starting to beat heavier and heavier as the footsteps of the others receded and vanished. Was it because Motoko had taken Mr. Kawahara¡¯s life even though Motoko¡¯s mother had no instruction to do so? Motoko realized that it may have been insubordination for doing so, but Motoko also knew that her mother would understand if she had the time to explain herself. Motoko had her doubts that Lady Megumi would do the same. As the last of the Ladies walked out and closed the sliding door, there was an air of silence hanging about for a moment before Lady Megumi began to rise from her table and make way to the door herself.


    ¡°Walk with me.¡± she instructed, not looking in Motoko¡¯s direction. The two stepped out of the room and into a hallway that led outside, furnished almost identically to how the conference room had looked.  As they made it to the front lobby area, Motoko and Lady Megumi politely nodded at the two receptionists that sat behind a floor-table, and the two guards who held spears and stood at each end of the entrance. The receptionists smiled and bowed in return, and the guards remained stationary other than a small salute, their eyes gazing forward the entire time.


    The two left the building and walked down the large porch that surrounded the three-story-tall, bright red building with white trimming against onyx-colored tiles that shielded the roof. Motoko felt sunlight make its way through the sea of branches of the humongous trees that covered the land. Some of the tree trunks had been nearly a quarter-mile wide, the trees themselves standing almost a few thousand feet each. The branches were thick and strong enough to be renovated and constructed to make houses, mansions and neighborhoods, originally to stay away from the Daemon infested grounds of Miizu.


    Strings of zip-lines crossed in different directions, taking different routes for those who wanted to descend from a higher level to the lower ones. The residents of the town usually carried an easily crafted metal cup-looking device meant for clasping onto the zip-lines, easy enough for children attending school to be expected to use the zip-lines without help or guidance. It may have been a hundred feet or more of a descent from tree branches to tree branches, but in the land of Miizu, fear was a weakness that needed to be overcome. And those who plunged and fell to their deaths were considered, ¡°Being weeded out by the gods for their weakness.¡± There were man-operated elevators constructed efficiently and large enough to hold a couple of fully loaded wagons and their horses inside to take people and their loads from the lower levels to the higher ones.


    While over the last few hundred years, they have managed to slay Daemons at a good enough pace to not be fearful of living and building homes and shops on the ground, it was always the ones with authority, money or power that would live among the tree branches. The leaves that grew on the branches were massive and grew plentiful, making a large percent of Miizu to be a well-shaded, cooler atmosphere. It was said that the demigoddess Yukina was one who loved to garden, and planted all of the forests, jungles, and grassy planes that were spread over the planet, but it was the nation of Miizu she had loved most. The large trees that were specific to their nation was a testament of that. It was because of that very story that most houses in Miizu had a garden, well cared for by all the individuals in the house.


    Motoko and Lady Megumi strolled along one of the main dirt roads that stemmed away from City Hall. Children and other residents would call out greetings to Lady Megumi, and she would wave and politely nod to show that she acknowledged them, but her lack of words would inform people she was too busy to talk about anything but the most serious of business. Motoko could hear the hammering of a half a dozen different blacksmiths that set up shop in the same end-street, most of them related and competing to be the best in their family name. She heard voices of those calling out for prices of fresh fruits and vegetables that weren¡¯t common in the Ryoko Village area. People rode along the dirt path in wagons that were drawn by horseback, or rode the horses themselves if they weren¡¯t the leisurely type. While it wasn¡¯t a metropolis, Ryoko Village definitely had its sense of hustle and bustle.


    But in the few minutes the two women walked together in silence, Motoko noticed they were walking towards areas that seemed to be less populated. Motoko knew better than to speak first, especially to the leading Lady of the city, but she was curious as to where she was taking her. If Lady Megumi was genuinely offended by the fact that Motoko had taken Mr. Kawahara¡¯s life, all she had to do was ask Motoko to end her life in the conference hall and be done with it. She didn¡¯t need to drag her out in the middle of remote parts of town to do so. Whatever it was that Lady Megumi wanted to speak about, Motoko tried to seem as stoic as her mother had as she had done her best to calm her nerves. She had killed dozens of Daemons and several times as many humans in battle, yet disappointing her mother or Lady was a bigger fear than any loss of blood, limb or life.


    ¡°So, do you mind telling me what that was about?¡± Lady Megumi asked when they turned down a street that Motoko had no memories of visiting in her lifetime. Lady Megumi strolled in front as they walked, but she didn¡¯t look back at Motoko when she talked.


    ¡°May I inquire what my Lady means?¡± Motoko asked carefully.


    ¡°About Mr. Kawahara.¡± was all Lady Megumi stated.


    ¡°C... could you clarify more, my Lady? I¡¯m not exactly sure what you¡¯re-¡±


    ¡°Come now, Motoko.¡± Lady Megumi¡¯s voice grew a shade darker, clearly getting irritated that Motoko wasn¡¯t immediately coming to the same conclusion as her. ¡°Your mother and I have been best friends for the last fifteen years. I know what she has planned, and I know how she feels about everybody in this city, especially those in power. So, I know she didn¡¯t have any desire to have Mr. Kawahara killed, and I doubt she had asked you to make that decision yourself. Or am I mistaken?¡±


    ¡°No, My Lady.¡± Motoko could feel her heart skip a beat. It took everything in Motoko to not hang her head down in shame.  ¡°What you say is true.¡±


    ¡°So, I¡¯m going to ask you again. Why did you feel it was acceptable for you to take Mr. Kawahara¡¯s life?¡±


    Motoko still took a moment to find her words. She didn¡¯t want to lie to her lady, couldn¡¯t in fact... and she didn¡¯t want to mince her words, but she herself didn¡¯t fully understand what propelled her to end his life that would make any sense. And as seconds ticked by, she knew she only had so long to answer before Lady Megumi might assume she was lying or hiding something. She simply said the first thing that felt true and simple of the fact.


    ¡°He was suffering.¡± she spoke softly, the words making her feel even weaker than when they were simply afterthoughts of her actions. ¡°Duty and Honor¡± was supposed to be the theme of their culture, and Motoko usually strove to excel in whatever fields of that theme presented themselves in life. To end a life for pity¡¯s sake was giving into your emotions, and acting on emotions was the antithesis of honor. Shame flooded inside her, and it was all she could do to not look at Lady Megumi, fearful of her disapproving gaze.


    ¡°Yes, most people suffer when they¡¯ve had holes put through them.¡± Lady Megumi¡¯s voice didn¡¯t grow any harsher, but it was none friendlier either. The matter-of-fact tone in her voice told Motoko to try and further herself. Motoko finally took a deep breath and looked Lady Megumi in the eyes. If she was going to be judged and scolded or punished for her actions, she might as well own up to them fully and stand tall.


    ¡°I had known Mr. Kawahara for a long time, and for the most part, he was usually nice to me. He gave me candy when I was a young. And while there were a couple of ladies in there who seemed to have valid complaints, too many of them were too trivial for the punishment he deserved. Had I not killed him, it would have been up to you to kill him. And if you chose not to strike him down, he was going to bleed out before the hour was over anyways. So, I did what I thought was best for all parties involved. Lady Sakura and her mewling followers would have the death it seemed they sought after, your hands were kept clean from unnecessary blood, and me and my house appeared efficient for the call of duty." She was proud of her statement, other than the acid in her voice when she mentioned Lady Sakura. Some might overhear that type of gossip and if it fell on the wrong ears, it could start a journey that ended the same way Mr. Kawahara did. All too many men, women and Ladies alike were victims of gossip, and Motoko had always done her best to avoid being a part of it either way.


    Lady Megumi eyed Motoko up and down for a moment, reading her for honesty. When she seemed to come to a conclusion, she stayed motionless for a moment before a small smile appeared on her face, followed by a very slow clap.


    ¡°Bravo, bravo...¡± Lady Megumi stated with a growing smirk. ¡°You really are turning into a proper Lady, now aren¡¯t you?¡± Lady Megumi¡¯s tone had relaxed, and the tension in the air seemed to disappear immediately as Lady Megumi threw an arm over Motoko¡¯s shoulders in a friendly, casual manner. ¡°See, I told your mom you¡¯ve got a good head on your shoulders. She thinks you¡¯re too battle-focused and don¡¯t know how to appeal to people of the court and council. I keep trying to tell her that the apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree, but you know how mothers can be. She must still see you as her baby, in some ways.¡±


    The sudden change in behavior had thrown Motoko off, and her face twisted in confusion had been more than apparent to Lady Megumi.


    ¡°Wait, so¡­ you¡¯re not upset?¡± Motoko asked, double checking.


    ¡°Upset? You said it yourself, you kept my hands clean from having to choose whether or not to end Soichiro¡¯s life.¡±


    ¡°Soichiro?¡± Motoko was taken aback again. ¡°You and Mr. Kawahara were on a first name basis?¡± In Miizu, it was usually customary to call a man by his last name, and same with a young lady who didn¡¯t have any power or money in her family name. Ladies who were on the rise to power, or were going to inherit their power or wealth through their mother, were called by their first name with the title of ¡°Young¡± beforehand. A lady who was influential in her community by any means was referred to as a Lady, and they used their first names to show their individuality among powerful houses that may hold several daughters. The only time a man was called by his first name was extreme friendliness (or even romantically), or if you were trying to insult him publicly.


    ¡°Well, we did have a personal meeting a few months ago, and we had drunk plenty during our course of business, and, well¡­ you know, one thing leads to another...¡± Lady Megumi had a lecherous grin on her face that said all too much.


    ¡°You added Mr. Kawahara to your walking marriage list?¡± Motoko couldn¡¯t believe it even as the words were coming out of her lips. Lady Megumi simply replied with a shrug and a laugh.


    The Walking Marriage was a cultural system that was commonplace in Miizu. In the homes of the Miizunese, there were no husbands and wives. A woman could choose any man and any number of men to sleep with, and there were no obligations that the relationship had to continue whatsoever. It could be casual, it could be passionate and held a lifetime; it all depended on the woman herself. If a woman were to get pregnant, it would be the woman¡¯s family who raised the child. Her sisters and mother would guide and teach all the necessary ways of being a strong, militant, and precision-hungry Miizunese. The brothers and uncles were the father-figures who had passed any masculine knowledge to the boys born in the house. The idea of a monogamous, committed relationship was seen as something almost other-worldly.


    ¡°He was a kind man,¡± Lady Megumi sighed. Motoko could hear good memories of him in her tone as she spoke. ¡°Gentle, and he genuinely cared about others. I know he got a little too interested in some of the ladies and their bodies, but men out there in other nations are almost always worse than him.¡±


    ¡°So, I hear...¡± Motoko nodded, but asked what was really on her mind about Mr. Kawahara. ¡°If you didn¡¯t hate Mr. Kawahara, why are you glad that I took his life?¡±


    ¡°Well, Motoko,¡± her tone had changed, much sadder and her eyebrows furrowed in a hint of internal conflict. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware that Lady Sakura had been the one to call for the performance review. Meaning that she was the one who had wanted to have Soichiro- I mean, Mr. Kawahara- killed or at least harmed.¡±


    ¡°But for what reason?¡± Motoko inquired. Lady Megumi was about to answer, but checked her surrounding before she did, making sure there were no ears to pick up on whatever it was she had to say.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing rumors...¡± she paused and looked around some more. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing for years that Lady Sakura had been wanting to be the leading Lady of Ryoko Village well before I was offered the position. It was something she wanted on her resume of life before she was forced into retirement. And seeing as she¡¯s going to retire early next year for her 45h birthday, whether she likes it or not, I think she¡¯s growing restless in forcing her way into my position. And I think she¡¯s starting to get a following of younger, more naive girls, buying them over with treats and favors. And you know the only way to remove a new Leading Lady from her position of power?¡±


    ¡°The same type of performance review that Mr. Kawahara had received by the rest of the council.¡± Motoko answered almost automatically. It was information every person in Miizu knew since grade school, along with basic histories.


    ¡°Right. And if Lady Sakura is staging a coup, did you see how the numbers turned out for Mr. Kawahara? There were five Ladies who had cast a negative vote for Mr. Kawahara, yours the sixth, but you had no malice intent towards him nor me. You simply were doing your duty. But I can¡¯t be sure of any of the other Ladies who had been a part of our discussion today, not even the ones who didn¡¯t harm Mr. Kawahara.¡±


    ¡°This still doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯re happy I¡¯m the person who killed Mr. Kawahara and not you.¡± Motoko stated after processing the information coming to her now.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you see? Mr. Kawahara¡¯s performance review was not only a blemish on the name of a family who supports me, but a trap to question my honor as a leader. Would I have killed Mr. Kawahara myself? Would I think of a crime to punish him for on the fly when I don¡¯t have one prepared in reality, just as you did? And if so, it would only take one Lady to know if I were making up reasons for punishments, allowing her to tell the other Ladies that I make judgments with no real proof, making me a leader of bias and weak thought process. If I killed him to make a message to other ladies, then I come off a brute. If I leave him alive, I may be considered either too weak to stomach killing off somebody who supports me but needs judgments. Or the polar opposite if I kill him, they could think of me too cruel to end the life of a man whose damnation wasn¡¯t set in stone yet. You see, I only had two options, and yet there were so many different opinions that could have come from those actions that would have negatively impacted me. But you decided to end his life before I had to come up with a solution for this. And for that, I thank you.¡±


    Motoko had no idea the council was secretively so divided, that they didn¡¯t all have the same common goal as to be honorable and push their society ahead in whatever means necessary. It was the Miizunese way, and yet it seemed that besides Daemons and the occasional war threat from the Xho or Ji-Woo areas, they had even more threats than she could have thought.


    ¡°Lady Sakura is cold and calculative,¡± Lady Megumi continued glumly, though Motoko wasn¡¯t sure if it was because of the possibility of betrayal from Lady Sakura, or because Lady Megumi was facing a force she couldn¡¯t fight alone as well as not knowing who she could trust. ¡°She¡¯ll never come straight for me, not in the ways of the council, and definitely not in the ways of dueling me for my position.¡± the thought put a sad smile on her face. It was true; Lady Megumi was highly considered for her spot as Leading Lady due to her combative abilities and also for her leadership through chaos, both things the soft-handed Lady Sakura lacked.


    ¡°If not through the council or a duel, how will she-¡± Motoko started.


    ¡°Influence.¡± was the only word Lady Megumi needed to say for Motoko to get it, but she pressed on explaining anyway. ¡°All she has to do is watch and wait for me to do something somebody in our community doesn¡¯t like, and the seeds of doubt and distrust of my service will begin to grow. I don¡¯t think every lady who harmed Mr. Kawahara today was under Lady Sakura¡¯s influence. Hell, I know Lady Naru and her missing paints were something she complained almost daily about for a month straight; her attack checks out, to me. But I know for a fact that Lady Yumi didn¡¯t request harm to be done to him, and Young Shizuru wouldn¡¯t have harmed him for peeping unless there was something bigger in store for her if she had.¡±


    ¡°Well, what are you going to do?¡± Motoko asked, not seeing a viable option to end the situation without somebody losing either their head or their respect. Most people would have chosen to lose their head if it were between the two.


    ¡°That¡¯s just it,¡± Lady Megumi sighed and looked Motoko in the eyes. ¡°I have no idea. I can¡¯t plan to retaliate, because I need resources and information, but I don¡¯t know who I can trust besides you and your mother. She¡¯s been my best friend for nearly all of your life, and I¡¯ve watched you grow up, you and your sisters. I know how much your mom has drilled ¡®duty and honor¡¯ into that skull of yours, so I know you two are on my side. But...¡± she sighed again, deeper this time, breaking eyesight from Motoko as she watched the massive leaves wave in the wind high above them. ¡°There¡¯s only two of you. Your two sisters are too young to know how to withhold information from less-than-deserving ears, and I don¡¯t know about anybody else in this village. Soichiro and his family were the only other ones who had been kind to me without looking for anything in return as long as I¡¯ve been rising in my public power, but now they¡¯ve taken a loss. How many lives will end or be ruined in order to obtain my title?¡±


    ¡°You could always challenge Lady Sakura into a duel or judgment for conspiracy.¡± Motoko offered a possible solution, but she hadn¡¯t fully looked at the big picture to see if there were any holes with her ideas.


    ¡°On what grounds? With what proof? I have nothing solid, and if I go up to the rest of the council without hard evidence and supporters to back me up, then the rest of the city is going to think that I¡¯m just out here accusing people at random, like all bad tyrants have started.¡±


    ¡°Well, perhaps you could-¡± a crash was heard at the end of the alleyway the two were walking down before Motoko could finish, startling the both of them. When they looked to see what made the noise, it was just a young black cat knocking over a small pile of trash on the side of a building. Motoko could sense that they both were wary of potential eavesdroppers.


    ¡°Look, Motoko, we can talk about things later, but I really had to thank you again for all that you did today. I don¡¯t know how many friends support me right now, but I can count on you, right?¡±


    ¡°Of course, my Lady.¡± Motoko said, almost taken aback that she had to ask.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have my back, no matter what kind of chaos Lady Sakura or any other Lady might try to conjure against me, so long as I am your Leading Lady?¡±


    ¡°I swear it on my family¡¯s honor, my Lady.¡± Motoko took to the ground with a kneeling bow. She could feel Lady Megumi¡¯s hands on her shoulders to bring her up, making direct eye contact with her as she did.


    ¡°Good, because we¡¯re both going to need each other, now more than ever. I don¡¯t know what I would do without you or your mom. But we¡¯re going to set things straight.¡± she gave a solid pat on her shoulder for good measure. ¡°You¡¯re one of the only people I can count on.¡± was the last thing she said before turning down one of the ends of the alleyway they were in.


    Motoko watched as Lady Megumi made her way around the corner before walking in the opposite direction. She was sure Lady Megumi wouldn¡¯t want her walking out in the same direction in case there were spies lurking about. She couldn¡¯t believe that the entire council was starting to grow so corrupt and shady. In all of her years in service of the military or the council, she had never heard of anything so sinister happen between such Ladies of power. Perhaps you¡¯re too young, blind, and naive to see otherwise, she pondered, but quickly dismissed the thought. She wanted to believe that the council had been as structured and disciplined as she had always seen. But Lady Megumi didn¡¯t seem too shocked by Lady Sakura¡¯s alleged conspiracy against her, which made Motoko feel that this wasn¡¯t her first time dealing with these types of situations, whether it was aimed at her or not.


    Motoko was about to turn the corner when she heard another crashing sound at the end of the alleyway behind her. She turned to see the same black cat digging through trash and knocking over bottles. Even though she had slain several Daemons in her day, she was still jumpy at the sounds of a cat due to the new suspicions of the people around her. The thought gave her mixed feelings of irony and mild shame. She was tougher than this. She was-


    In an instant, Motoko had drawn a dagger that was well-hidden and strapped to her left leg underneath her kimono, and brought it to her face, deflecting a quick and heavy blow as she heard the two blades sing their steely song. Her attacker, much quicker than she anticipated, loomed behind her before she could catch a glimpse, but she swung her dagger in where she felt the presence. She felt her blade connect and penetrate something solid, but it was a hunk of garbage from the alleyway. Before she could pull her blade from the trash, she felt the icy cold tip of a blade at her throat, her body nowhere near a position to retaliate. The trash was simply a distraction, and she fell for it. She couldn¡¯t get the best look at her assailant, but from what she could tell, they wore a very basic gray kimono and some type of bandage wrapping to cover their face, and a big straw hat to take the eyes off the face mask. They had long black hair that flowed in the wind like silk, but any other features were hidden away.


    ¡°You¡¯re a lot quicker than my peers had informed me.¡± she heard her attacker speak, the voice of a fellow woman, but none that was familiar.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you caught me off guard, otherwise you would truly see the speed I hold.¡± Motoko said icily. Despite whatever situation she was about to get herself into, she refused to show an ounce of fear.


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that whatsoever¡­ and yet, here we are.¡± the masked woman shifted her blade to press as much against Motoko¡¯s skin without cutting the flesh.


    ¡°Here we are...¡± Motoko repeated coolly, looking for some type of advantage she could muster. Her weapon was still lodged into trash, which would slow her down and make her swing clumsily if she were to attack. She couldn¡¯t press into the woman behind without potentially having her throat slit. The situation was total in this masked woman¡¯s hands, and a part of Motoko was ready to accept her lethal fate.


    ¡°Do you know why I¡¯m here?¡± the woman asked, her voice already sounding like she knew the answer.


    ¡°I¡¯m assuming this has something to do with Lady Sakura?¡± Motoko stated, the anger in her voice building towards Lady Sakura. She had never been friends with the woman, and she had come off as stern and oftentimes condescending, but until this meeting she had no ill feelings towards her. But having sent an assassin only moments after a council meeting was crossing more than enough lines for Motoko to hate.


    ¡°Who?¡± The woman asked, sounding confused. Motoko furrowed her eyebrows in confusion herself.


    ¡°Lady Sakura¡­?¡± Motoko repeated. ¡°The Lady who runs-¡±


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not from around here, so I have no idea who the hell you¡¯re talking about.¡± the woman stated, and at long last removed the blade from her throat. She took a step back and sheathed her own blade when she could trust that Motoko wasn¡¯t going to turn around and start swinging again. Motoko almost assumed the woman was lying, but there was something in her voice that sounded sincere.


    ¡°If you¡¯re not from around here,¡± Motoko said as she rubbed her neck, checking for any small cuts or blood. ¡°Then why are you attacking me, and what are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°The attack was simply my curiosity in the rumors I¡¯ve heard about your skill. I know I took you by total surprise, but your reactions were more than the words I¡¯ve heard. You¡¯re quite skilled.¡± the woman gave a small chuckle, but Motoko couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of confidence that the woman thought she could take Motoko down in a duel if necessary. The feeling stung, but Motoko couldn¡¯t argue that it may have been true; she did have Motoko completely helpless while being held at knife-point. ¡°As for what I¡¯m doing here, I¡¯m here to deliver you.¡±


    ¡°Deliver me?¡± Motoko repeated, not at all understanding.


    ¡°Oh, boy,¡± the masked woman sighed hastily. ¡°I know they¡¯re supposed to keep you Ceremony people from knowing when you¡¯re supposed to come for the ceremony, but I didn¡¯t think they would keep you in the dark about what the ceremony actually was.¡±


    ¡°You mean the Ceremony of the Moon?¡± Motoko asked, puzzled.


    ¡°Do you know of any other ceremony?¡± the woman¡¯s voice was drizzled in sarcasm.


    ¡°So¡­ I¡¯m being escorted by you? As one of the people arranged to get married?¡± Motoko couldn¡¯t picture herself leaving her home village, let alone her nation, especially not so suddenly. A creeping fear of being thrown into a total world of unknowing started to grow in the pit of her stomach.


    ¡°You know, the people of Miizu are really quick with their swords¡­ not so much with their minds.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ but I can¡¯t just up and leave, I have duties here to-¡±


    ¡°Okay, look, I get that you people-¡± the phrase you people annoyed Motoko greatly coming from a foreigner. ¡°are very big on honor and duty and doing what¡¯s best expected of you from your leaders, right? Well, answer me this: what bigger honor is there than possibly reuniting the world and destroying all the Daemons once and for all?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but-¡±


    ¡°You know, for somebody who claims to be all about doing her duty at the drop of a hat, no questions asked, you sure do talk back a lot.¡± the woman¡¯s voice, as irritated as it sounded, wasn¡¯t malicious at all. ¡°I¡¯m just doing my job and trying to get you to come and get married at this ceremony so I can make my money and go home. It¡¯s a month-long journey on foot, and I¡¯d like to get going as soon as we can.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ why me? Why not somebody more important?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, and to be honest, I don¡¯t really care.¡± the boredom in the woman¡¯s voice was starting to get replaced with annoyance.


    ¡°And what if I refuse?¡±


    ¡°How should I know? Central Government sent my agency a job listing, and here I am doing that job, no questions asked. Just like how you should be behaving. But since it¡¯s Central Government we¡¯re talking about, they¡¯re probably just going to send a team of mercenaries to burn down your village and kill your family so you have no reason to refuse. Or they might just kill you too. Either way, I¡¯m pretty sure your village will be turned into a giant bonfire for the Daemons that roam around these forests.¡±


    Motoko was silent for a moment, thinking over all the information that was suddenly thrown at her. She could feel the woman shift her body directly from her annoyance of being in the same spot for too long. Her entire body language said that she didn¡¯t want to spend another second being in a foreign land, but Motoko didn¡¯t want her racing off to tell her authorities that Motoko wasn¡¯t complying. And the woman did have a point: what was more honorable than saving the world. Duty and Honor, her mother¡¯s voice rang in her head again. It didn¡¯t matter how Motoko felt about the situation. She was summoned, which meant by her own moral code, she was obligated to go.


    ¡°Can I at least bring a travel bag?¡± Motoko had more questions, but she was getting the sneaking suspicion that more questions would be of hindrance rather than help.


    ¡°You have thirty minutes to gather whatever useless trinkets you want to bring with you and meet me on the Southern Gate of the city. Tell anybody you see that you got a trail on a small Daemon and you need to check it out or whatever, just make sure nobody knows where you¡¯re going and that nobody follows you¡­ and don¡¯t act suspicious.¡±


    Motoko nodded before turning the corner and hurrying down the street as quickly as she could without seeming like she was in a rush. Last thing she needed was somebody who might want to talk or ask why she was moving so hastily. Attention was the last thing she needed as she tried to think of what she might need in order to survive a month-long trip.


    ¡°Your Marriage is the biggest Honor and Duty you¡¯ll ever have in your entire life.¡± a voice called out to her, almost as if it were shouting from a great distance, but heard as if it were right in her ear. She whipped her head around to see if there had been someone sneaky enough to erase their presence and get close to her, but nobody was around her at all. The voice sounded like a young man, but of no one she knew. Was she just imagining things or was she going crazy? It didn¡¯t matter either way. She had a long journey to prepare for, with very little time to do it.


    A very long journey, indeed.

 2.)Ryn and Caine

    Chapter 2


    ¡°You can¡¯t trust your own father.¡±


    A voice spoke to 24-year-old Caine Bryer as he looked outside of the few small windows that permitted light inside his father¡¯s laboratory, staring at the five moons that hung in the sky. The largest moon in the sky covered a good portion of it in its silver glow, only to fade barely-visible during daylight and the hues of the colors shine brightly at night.The smaller four moons hung around the bigger ones like marbles next to a watermelon, each of them with the unique faded colors of magenta, mint green, baby blue and metallic gray. The big moon, it was known, was a representation of the goddess Sonova and the smaller moons of her demigod children.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Caine eyed his father suspiciously, beginning to unburden the question buzzing in his head for weeks as his father was close enough to take the icy stethoscope to Caine¡¯s chest. He winced as the steely cold touched his chest, but resumed his question. ¡°Why do I have to get married?¡±


    His father took his time looking from the stethoscope, and then his notepad in the other hand, before his eyes crawled to Caine¡¯s. His father¡¯s silver eyes matched the beard and goatee that hugged his aged face, wrinkles deepening almost every month, or it seemed lately. His father¡¯s eyes shifted slowly and almost bored-looking before he raised a brow, the rest of his face calculatingly stark.


    ¡°Who says anything about you getting married?¡± his father¡¯s eyes went back to the notepad before he spoke, more interested in the sciences that he spent most of his life involved in rather than whatever it was that Caine ever had to say. But in this case, Caine wasn¡¯t sure if his dad was putting on a poker-face or if he generally didn¡¯t seem to care beyond his work, as per usual.


    ¡°Hmmm, well, let¡¯s see...¡± Caine started facetiously. ¡°Our 4 moons are about to be full at the same time again, so the Ceremony of the Moon is going to start sometime in the next coming months. That means 16 people are going to be arranged to be married to possibly help regenerate the world.¡±


    ¡°And what makes you think this has anything to do with you?¡± his father asked, scribbling on his notepad and looking through various thermostats, beakers, and potion bottles that lined up neatly on a rack of shelves leaning onto one of the walls, from floor to ceiling. It was one of the dozens of racks in his father¡¯s laboratory that were organized and filled with the necessities for the scientific works and medicines his father worked with. Certain shelves were filled with jarred animals or plants, floating in their aquatic domes peacefully, waiting for the day that they¡¯ll be used for something of importance. This lab was one of many that spread throughout the city. The lights were always low-lit, if they were even on at all, to protect some of his father¡¯s materials from light, but giant pods that had harnessed bigger things -such as the boulder-sized bear corpse from the Ghald nation being preserved, among other things of the same size ¨C had enough light illuminating the pod to help navigate through the darkened room.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re the head figure for the department of Science and Medicine of our whole nation, and I¡¯m your son. I know everybody says that those who are chosen for the Ceremony of the Moon are usually random, and it¡¯s all about the bloodline, and that the gods seem to have the say in the matter to make the decision. But, when I¡¯ve looked back at the last few groups who participated in the ceremony, almost every group has had two or more people of importance involved in their life or lineage.¡± he waited for his father to reply, but he simply kept looking through bottles, pods, and vials for whatever it was he was working on. ¡°Like the Prince of Paiyi and the daughter of Miizu¡¯s top general were in the group last time. And the time before that they had the leading surgeon of Medicine from another town in our nation of Ryn as well as the Archbishop¡¯s chosen protege from Ghald. And the time before that-¡±


    ¡°And, again, I ask, what does this have to do with you?¡± His father said curtly, almost annoyed that this 24 year old ¡°child¡± was taking up his time and attention, his eyes still on the chart rather than making eye contact with his son as they spoke on something Caine considered rather serious.


    ¡°Well, for one thing, we never see each other.¡± Caine said matter-of-factly, hoping the cold and calculated tone in his voice would at least make his father see that he wasn¡¯t trying to be emotional about their distance in their relationship ever since he was growing up as a child, all the way into adulthood. ¡°You rarely come home, and you hardly talk to me whenever you do. You never actually make the time to see or talk to me, you never invite me out anywhere, you hardly seem to know I exist. But now, you called me to your laboratory out of the blue and start giving me a physical and looking for all these materials like you¡¯re making a magic potion¡­ and you still haven¡¯t told me what for.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s time for your annual checkup and physical.¡± his father shrugged and went back to searching for ingredients on the many-stocked shelves, his back turned toward Caine as he continued his search for the ambiguous item that seemed to captivate his attention.


    ¡°My annual checkup...¡± Caine repeated with disdain, not even trying to hide the resentment. ¡°The one I haven¡¯t gotten in almost seven years? You wanna try telling me something a little more believable if you¡¯re going to lie to me?¡±


    He waited for his father to try and give him an explanation, or perhaps even an excuse, anything to acknowledge that Caine was smarter than an eight-year-old and could tell when something wasn¡¯t quite right. And yet nothing came but the silence. Caine let out a small sigh of frustration as he watched his father pace around the room in a search. What all could he need, and what the hell was he trying to make that was so important to not converse with his son?


    ¡°So...¡± Caine tried bringing up the subject again. ¡°Hypothetically speaking¡­ if I were to be chosen to get married, is it really all that important that I go through with it? I mean¡­ an arranged marriage?¡± he said the words with a wrinkled nose, as if he were talking about vomit and dog shit.


    ¡°I thought you had taken your history lessons in high school.¡± his father said sternly as he continued to look around and jot a few things here and there in his notepad. After all the years of coming into this lab, as rare as that may have been, Caine realized he had never been able to identify most of the things that were laid on the shelves to this day.


    ¡°I have...¡± Caine wasn¡¯t sure where his father was going with this. ¡°I had the highest grades in my graduating class.¡±


    ¡°Then I don¡¯t have to remind you about the history of the goddess Sonova giving birth to her five children; two boys, two girls and an outcast with no name, do I?¡± his father took a moment to actually look at his son to see if he was bright enough to figure out his own question before going back to the shelves.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah...¡± Caine waved him off casually. ¡°The four main kids wanted the Gift of creating life and magic from their Mother and ended up killing her, but not before she gave her Gift to the Unnamed Child. The Unnamed Child used the magic to create a barrier to divide the entire world into four sections, evenly split, and created an island and a sea in the very center of all four nations.¡±


    ¡°And, if you were to get married, your marriage would be used to help bring the four nations back together after you, your wife and the other seven couples who are arranged to get married traveled to the Center Island and brought down the barrier.¡±


    ¡°But how does getting married do all that? That¡¯s the part I don¡¯t understand!¡±


    ¡°And here I thought you said you got the highest grades in your class. Is folklore not a part of your curriculum, or did things change in the school¡¯s educational process since I last checked?¡± his father¡¯s voice was icy and dripping with sarcasm. If there was one thing his father hated more than anything, it was the waste of time and effort and that included answering questions Caine ought to know the answers to.


    ¡°It is!¡± Caine defended. ¡°It''s been said that the only people who can bring down the barrier are people who have the blood of all four nations, and that marriage is the surest way to make sure blood lines are getting mixed well and evenly well-mixed by having children. But it¡¯s the process of choosing who has the right blood that I don¡¯t really get.¡±


    ¡°There are people in the High Councils and various government branches and outfits between the four nations who keep a track on the descendants of people from previous Ceremonies of the Moon and make sure they end up propagating making children with people who lack the same nations¡¯ bloodline. So, we send one male to the country next to us in a clockwise fashion, and a female counterclockwise. This is the way it has been, every 20 years, for hundreds and hundreds of years.¡± There was a pause in his father¡¯s movements, dramatizing his next few words with the imbued harshness. "But I¡¯m sure you knew all this.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ why marriage?¡± Caine groaned. ¡°If I was going to get married, that would mean I would have to marry a woman from Miizu. Can¡¯t I just knock her up and let her raise the kid? I mean, isn¡¯t that what they tend to do in their culture? I¡¯ve read that a lot of men usually help out their mother¡¯s and female siblings- not their romantic partners, even if they have kids. It¡¯s the mom and her family who actually raise and tend to the children. Or am I misinformed?¡± Caine knew the answer to his own question, but if his father was going to make snarky remarks, he wasn¡¯t going to take it lying down.


    ¡°As little as the education teaches you kids about the cultures and socioeconomic tendencies of the other three nations, yes your assessment is correct. However, marriage helps foster a bond between nations and the Children of the Moon, a special bond between those both inside and affected by the marriage. One who is in the Ceremonies of the Moon can abandon their duties, but you are damning the rest of the world to deal with separation from another as well as continuing the life of the Daemons.¡±


    Daemons, Caine wanted to scoff. All of his life he had heard about the horrors of the Daemons, terrifying monsters that drift from the Central Island and wreak havoc on any person, city or village they may stumble across. Each nation had perhaps five or six Daemon mishaps per year, which was a smaller number than those who die from tripping and falling down a flight of stairs if you wanted to get the statistics. Yeah, Caine had heard the tragedies of Daemons wiping out an entire village in a matter of minutes, leaving nothing behind but a blood-bath, destroyed and burned buildings, and the groans, cries and screams of those unfortunate enough to get out of the chaos with their lives. A large number of survivors of Daemon attacks stated they would rather have died along with their friends and families than have to live with the memories of those attacks. But as terrible as they have sounded, Caine had never gotten a glimpse of a Daemon attack, nor seen any pictures or footage of the aftermath of an attack. For all he knew, it could be exaggerated rumors at best.


    Based on all the history and biology books that classes would teach, Daemons were created on the Center Island from the Unnamed Child in order to defend the island. Perhaps the Unnamed Child had created more monsters than needed, or perhaps they had no real control over the monsters they made. Either way, the monsters found themselves traveling through the 20 miles of sea to find any part of the continent and search to feed their hunger of destruction. Caine had a theory: despite the Unnamed Child being a Child of the goddess Sonova, perhaps they created the monsters to kill people on purpose. While the other four Children of Sonova had been promised to watch over and protect the humans that resided in their parts of the world, it seemed almost ungodly for a demigod to crave the destruction of human life. But then again, why else would there be so much suffering, hate, and grief in the world, if not created by the gods themselves?


    ¡°When was the last time you had heard of a Daemon attack?¡± Caine asked his father, half of the question was curious, the other half wanting to prove a point that Daemon attacks were a fairly rare thing as far as day-to-day things happened in Ryn.


    ¡°Last week, up near Chiuha, a city in the north-western part of the Paiyi nation. It was a small Daemon this time, no bigger than a full-grown man, but it was one that doused anything that it touched with fire. Almost a quarter of the entire city was burned down, but luckily only 14 people were killed in this attack, and only a couple hundred injured survived without fatal injuries this time.¡±


    ¡°Only?¡± Caine repeated the fact that his father was talking about the number of people no longer existing in this life, gone into the wind. He spoke of it as if it were nothing more than math. It was a part of his father that Caine understood, but a part he also resented and loathed. It truly showed how dedicated his father¡¯s heart, mind and soul were to science, medicine and math¡­ and to science, medicine and math alone.


    ¡°In comparison to the attack in the Ghald nation seven summers ago, where the death count was in the tens-of-thousands, 50,000 injured and almost an entire city is literally nothing more than a giant crater from the explosion when the Daemon self-destructed. The City of Valenski is nothing more than a terrible memory. All of the people who lived there had moved elsewhere, too afraid the location was too close to the beaches that connected to the sea of the Center Island.¡± His father looked at him, straight in the eyes for once. ¡°The Ceremony of the Moon and all those who end up being a part of it are solely responsible for attempting to infiltrate the Center Island, with the guide and assistance from the government...¡± his father let out an annoyed sigh at the next few words he had to utter. ¡°...and the churches of the other countries. These chosen ones are the only keys to shutting down whatever magical forces the Unnamed Child might have there and stop the Daemons and the Barrier that separates the four nations once and for all.¡±


    The way his father was looking at him made him feel as though he wasn¡¯t just talking about those involved in the ceremony¡­ but that he was directly talking to Caine. This was something that rarely happened. The way his father spoke, the way his father looked directly at him when speaking. His father only did this when he had something of utter importance to say. And with Caine getting the creeping feeling he might be one of the chosen sixteen for the Ceremony of the Moon, his father asking him to come in for a physical, and now this speech¡­ it all pointed towards Caine¡¯s suspicions being correct. The gnawing feeling eating away at his gut, telling him something large was at play, and the fact that his father raised no fool fed into the belief that something was up.


    ¡°I get it, I get it,¡± Caine said, holding his hands up in mock defensiveness. ¡°It¡¯s a super important job, and anybody who is a part of it should feel like they¡¯re doing the world a huge favor, right?¡± Caine¡¯s voice was more sarcastic than he originally meant, but his father¡¯s stoic behavior always rubbed Caine the wrong way, especially in moments like these where Caine felt something big in their lives might happen.


    His father didn¡¯t say anything to Caine¡¯s sarcasm, but rather picked up Caine¡¯s shirt that lay next to him on the doctor¡¯s table and handed it back, indicating to get dressed again.


    ¡°It seems like everything is running smoothly,¡± his father said, talking about the notes of Caine¡¯s physical. ¡°I¡¯m going to give you a special prescription to help fight against bacterial and viral diseases for you, it will be ready for you to pick up at the drugstore in a few hours.¡± His father wrote him a prescription and handed it to him.


    ¡°Prescription? For Bacterial and viral diseases?¡± Caine repeated in blank misunderstanding. ¡°What for?¡±


    ¡°Go to the drugstore and they¡¯ll tell you everything you need to know,¡± his father said, gathering his book bag after placing his notepads and pens inside, and picking up his briefcase. A sure sign that his father was done in the lab and with the appointment with Caine, and was leaving almost without a second thought... as he usually did. No good-bye or ¡°see ya later¡± or anything of the sort, and that¡¯s how it had always been between the two. But today, to Caine¡¯s surprise, as his father stepped out the door, he stopped and turned around, looking at Caine. It took him a moment to speak, which wasn¡¯t like his father, but when he did speak, his face was just as emotionless as usual, but his voice was warm. ¡°Caine¡­ I just want you to know that I do love you, and I¡¯m proud of you, even if I don¡¯t¡­¡± his father sighed, his demeanor seemed to collapse as if a heavy weight had fallen off his shoulders. ¡°...even if I don¡¯t know how to show it all that well...¡±


    ¡°Dad¡­¡± Caine was caught off guard by the small surprise of emotion from his father. Anybody who didn¡¯t know his dad would say the words sounded too stiff to be taken lovingly. But Caine knew his dad, and this was the equivalent of breaking down into tears and proclaiming love if it had been any other person in the world.


    But Caine couldn¡¯t get another word in before his father turned back around, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. And just like that, whatever special moment that was about to take place between father and son had vanished. But it wasn¡¯t anything new for Caine. He knew that his father¡¯s whole life was dedicated to progression for the betterment of the people of Ryn, his nation. And that type of dedication wasn¡¯t free, it came with sacrifices. But Caine wondered from time to time, if his father would be any different if he wasn¡¯t single-handedly one of the most influential minds, would he have been more loving and affectionate? Or was this robotic man of science who is father was deep in his core, despite his occupation? Caine decided thinking about it any more wasn¡¯t worth wasting his time, not any more than he had when he was younger.


    Caine put on his shirt and took one last glance around his father¡¯s lab. It was funny to him how, as a child, he thought this lab was one of the most magical places he could have ever dreamed. All of the vials and canisters and pods filled with gods-know-what. The way his father effortlessly and knowingly created and blended with medicines of both modern and ancient knowledge. The way he had tinkered with robotics and other mechanical technologies like the well-trained mechanic. The way every one that his father worked with would look at him with such admiration and splendor. But now Caine had grown up, and he could see that there isn¡¯t any magic like how children like to see when they¡¯re young. Like his father had shown him over the years, everything is cold, meticulous, and something science could calculate and explain. There was no time for magic.


    Caine left the lab, and walked up a few flights of stairs and went through a few security doors before exiting into the main hallway of one of the government buildings near City Hall of the city of Vern. He had seen his father¡¯s secretary, Cindy, at her desk, talking on her phone headset and typing away at her computer effortlessly. Her eyes turned a shade harsher when they saw Caine for just a brief moment, but she had forced a polite smile before returning to her work, not saying a word. Caine knew that Cindy wasn¡¯t the biggest fan of him; in fact, most of his father¡¯s workers were as distant and polite as Cindy. Caine couldn¡¯t blame them.


    In the last seven years, Caine had gotten interested in small-time programming and computer sciences as a teen, which quickly turned into the urge to learn how to not only create, but to hack as well. Even after the few years of his studies, he was only able to gain access to ill-secure computers, phones, and old and outdated security systems; nothing of importance. It was his teachers, schoolmates, but mostly his father¡¯s employees, who had been the subjects of his hacks, whether they were successful or whether it ended up badly enough for half a year¡¯s worth of folders and data to end up missing. That was the last time Caine had decided to try to hack people from the government, and not just because of the almost-lawsuit he and his father barely avoided. He was trying to have fun, not ruin and wreck the work him father and colleagues¡¯ work and reputations.


    Caine left the building as the late-afternoon sun shone on his face, shining brightly and playing around a broken sea of clouds. The city was filled with a sidewalk sea full of people, as was normal during all hours of the day. Despite there being plenty of service cars and hover-bikes ready to deliver people to nearby destinations, ¨C as well as teleportation pods if you wanted to travel a few miles instantly,-- a lot of the common people walked to save money. He could smell the hot, greasy smells of cheap food vendors mixed with the rich aromas of the restaurants that littered the street he was currently on. The sounds of honking swirled with the various music that poured out of the hip and trendy clothing stores, one of the stores repeatedly playing a commercial that had Caine in it, promoting some random cologne.


    ¡°Hey, Caine!¡± a friendly stranger greeted as they passed him on the street.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he returned the welcoming gesture, faking the amount of enthusiasm the stranger had shown.


    With how often he spent his time alone, he had forgotten how many people had known who he was. Not only was he the father (son?) of the Head Department of Sciences and Medicine, but he was mostly known for his model work and times he¡¯s played in small commercials for the times he really needed money. He was a good-looking guy, something he was told almost all of his life growing up. With his mid-cut silver hair that met half way to his shoulders, styled bangs that hung over one eye, and his sharp cheek bones and jaw along with his deep, rain-cloud gray eyes, the ladies seemed to swoon over him. When clothing companies needed to sell their product, why not have their clothes shown off by a good-looking man with power and influence behind his name? It was something the people of Ryn could get behind. It took Caine almost his entire life, but he had come to realize that the people of the Ryn nation cared about two things, and two things only: furthering the expansion of education and hedonistic entertainment.


    A part of Caine hated that the education side of their society had cared more about progress and pushing further of what their community had known as far as technology, philosophy, medicine, and other general applications of life, but it may have stemmed from the distance all this knowledge had put between him and his father. If it wasn¡¯t progressive, it would at least be working on something to make life easier and more convenient. If you didn¡¯t have a job in pushing the progressiveness of society, then you were usually someone who worked the menial jobs that needed to be done, but rewarded with low-rent, decent pay, and a world of entertainment and pleasure for you to dive into with the free time you had. Drugs, whether medicinal or recreational, were sold and taxed with certain laws to keep the general public safe, and the public drinking age was 15. Even prostitution was legal and morally just in most cases, even in most monogamous marriages it was socially accepted for a brothel visit from time to time, so long as it didn¡¯t become habitual. The latter half was the reason Caine loved being lucky enough to not only be raised in Ryn¡¯s laxed laws, but that he was lucky enough to live in one of the major five floating cities in Ryn. Big cities always meant better options for women, drugs and foreign booze.


    Caine walked aimlessly through the streets of Vern, taking in his hometown with a sense of nostalgia as he thought about how much time he had spent in this city. He cruised along with a sea of people on the sidewalks as he walked past movie theaters, shopping malls, grocery stores, electronic department stores, whatever it was you could need had been located there. There were only a few family-owned shops in the entire country of Ryn, and it was mostly specialty or niche items. Everything that was common and of everyday use had some sort of department store that sold said items, store windows filled with large and colorful ads for sales they were having. Some of the older and more desperate shops had hired teens to dress in costume or shouted at anyone passing by while handing them some type of ad or coupon.


    When people didn¡¯t walk the sidewalks or ride a hover-bike, people usually took the speedy railway trains that zipped quickly though the town or the buses that hovered just as well as the bikes in the city. The buses looked like standard buses, but the bottom of the bus had a long, electronic strip, a light blue hue glowing from it. Caine didn¡¯t know the mechanics, but he knew the blue strips had been where the levitation had been active. The body of bikes had resembled closely to jet-skis, with the same blue strip down the middle of the bottom of each vehicle. If Caine could remember correctly, it had been almost a hundred years since wheels had been outdated in Ryn.


    Caine continued to walk down the road, soaking in the liveliness that surrounded him, people-watching at the random faces and variously aged people. Something that Caine heard rumored, and he was just now noticing, was that most people in Vern (and from what he¡¯d heard, most of Ryn), had either light, straight hair of jet black, snow white, and various silver hairs. He¡¯d read somewhere that people in other lands had other colors. It was common knowledge that Miizu had the various shades of blue hair, Ghald had the various shades of green, and Paiyi and its shades of reds and purples. He had heard rumors of special types of people from the Central Government that had golden strands of hair known as ¡°blondes¡± but Caine hadn¡¯t heard of anyone actually seeing one that wasn¡¯t a wig.


    He continued down the street, his mind wondering on the crowd, until his eyes spotted a teleport station. There were five rows of ten, metal and plastic, porta-potty looking pods with a small window to look out of, and a handle on the inside. Caine had seen people casually stroll to one of the pods, pull a card out of their wallets, swipe their card on a card-reader with a keypad next to the handle. The person would punch in a code for their destination, and step inside before a bright light shone quickly with a loud zap! After that, the door would open automatically and anybody who needed to teleport could use that pod right away. Most pods had a limitation of traveling only a maximum of 20 miles, but if you needed to go farther, you could usually chain-teleport, or use several stations back to back to get just about anywhere in the nation. Caine remembered how scared he was to try teleporting his first time when he was young. Nowadays, he¡¯ll be on his headphones, talking to someone on his phone, not even thinking twice about the split second of darkness that came with the travel. The best way he could describe it was like holding on to a blink just a hair longer than a second, and a friend gently shaking you quickly, only to be somewhere else entirely when your eyes are opened.


    Caine grinned as he made his way to one of the teleporters, removing his identification card that was needed in order to travel. While he was roaming around without a place to go a moment ago, he had finally selected a destination: the Red Light district. Dad might not have told me what¡¯s going on, Caine thought. But if I am getting married like my gut is telling me, then I deserve to have a little bachelor party, right? He swiped his card, punched in the coordinates, and felt himself shift with ease. He stepped out of the pod, to see his favorite side of town, not only due to the entertainment, but because the Red-Light District was one of the six districts that were laid next to the edge of the city.


    One of the most amazing things about Vern and the people of Ryn was the fact that 5 of the major metropolises in their nation were literally floating cities, usually with a cloaking device to make the cities appear to look like large clouds. While there were plenty of cities on the ground in Ryn with just as much technological advances, most people who lived in the sky rarely had a reason to come down. Caine had visited only a couple of cities below for a photo shoot here and there, but they were only for half a day, and he wasn¡¯t interested enough to go venturing about in the localized towns that didn¡¯t have the hustle and bustle of city life. The peace and quiet was too eerily still, almost creepy. But in the moments before coming back home, he could see the giant cloud structure that resembled Ryn. That was the nice thing about the floating cities: at least they held the same shape, just in case you were ever lost. Caine felt like Vern¡¯s cloud shape looked like a lopsided castle.


    Caine looked at the entrance to the Red-Light District before turning around and heading towards one of the lookout points at the edge of the city, an area made with binoculars you paid with some change in hopes to get a view of the whatever ground they were floating over at the time of day. Some people came here simply for the view during the day time, but at night, he knew this was a place people liked to do heavier drugs, and the whores of the brothels might sell their bodies off the clock, and without the proper paperwork. It was definitely illegal for that type of prostitution, but at least the women were able to set their own prices if they thought they were worth more than the brothels were giving them.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Caine remembered reading in a history book that it wasn¡¯t until about 50 years ago that prostitution was accepted almost as casually as pornography. Hell, porn was for those who weren¡¯t old enough or too broke to pay for a brothel visit. The brothels were well-kept, clean, and vied for positive comments, and competed with each other to outdo one another in terms of customer experiences. Not only had the women who worked the brothels been obligated to get regularly tested and checked by doctors to ensure minimal disease ¨C and nasty rumors spreading, but the johns also had to come with results from a doctor saying they were disease-free as well before entering the brothel. There were dozens of brothels all in the Red-Light district, which laid on the western side of town, each one holding a different theme than the others. Some had night-club themes, some had outdoorsy and rugged themed lodging and the same type of women to go with it. Caine knew all of this thanks to the experience of being a regular member of almost half of the brothels in town.


    Caine took out a small glass pipe and a small container of Lush, a calming and relaxing drug that also acted as an aphrodisiac, and began to pack himself a small bowl. It wasn¡¯t the strongest drug, nor his favorite to use, but drugs of that degree required that he was in the safety of his home. Once ready, he flicked his lighter to light it as he prepped himself against the railing that was placed several feet from the actual edge of the floating city. While the edge was feet away, the view beyond the cliff was easily seen. The specks and patches of neighborhoods and downtown sections of cities were sprawled out on the green blanket that covered the earth as far as his eyes could see. He could see enough airplanes and other flying vehicles to be able to tell where the flight paths had been, big specks of random colors flying between Vern and the ground below. He took a huge drag and let the smoke sit in his lungs for a few seconds before releasing the smoke, coughing as he exhaled. Ryn had been a fairly flat and forested nation in comparison to the other three, ¨C or so the rumors had been said. There had been very few people to travel to any of the other countries, and even fewer outsiders were allowed to travel to Ryn. The barrier that divided the four nations had only been half of the reason so few people had traveled. While it was true only a small number of people could physically be allowed to pass through the small gates that Ryn technology had been able to offer only in the last 80-something years, it was also pain and hatred and fear of differences, as well as political differences, that held the four nations so far apart.


    Caine had learned in school that thousands of years ago, the four nations were able to pass and travel freely between worlds. And as peaceful and free as that had sounded, it had been reported that a majority of that time, two nations were constantly at war, if not three, or even all of them. There was rarely a time for peace between the four nations. Some believe it was due to the four children of the goddess Sonova picking and choosing favorites and building societies out of those chosen people, all with the rules and influences of the demigods themselves. But no historians had found solid proof of this theory; in fact, the proof and evidence of the demigods interacting with the human race was very small and limited in general. There was enough proof to show the world that Sonova and her children existed, and even their general personality types, but there hadn¡¯t been any new evidence in a few hundred years. Over that amount of time, any hard truths can become myths and legends.


    He wondered what the other nations may have thought of Ryn. He knew not all of the things he had heard about the other nations could possibly be true, especially since hardly anybody left the nation to go find out themselves. And anybody who had gone out into the world never had pictures or footage of other places, partly because there¡¯s no service for phones outside Ryn, but also because some people have said the locals had different opinions about the idea of photographs and filming, but none of them positive or forgiving.


    The Ghald nation was the most advanced behind Ryn, but even that land had been in a time of rustic machine and factory work, steam and coal their main source of energy. A land that was ruled by over-working, industrial people who spent their whole lives slaving away or giving their lives to The Church. While they had early styles of railroads and trains and poor automobiles, they had barely invented electricity not even a couple decades ago. But at least they had all of that, compared to the other two nations.


    The Miizu people were said to be a nation that was run entirely by women, and that men were the expendable and submissive ones. They lived in a land ruled by honor codes, stoic perseverance towards a noble cause, to aiming towards nothing less than excellence. He had heard people would commit suicide rather than have a negative image on their name, or if they were caught doing something mildly disgraceful. They rode around on horses and carriages, had to use candles and torches to guide themselves around the darkness. They were set in very old ways, and Caine found this nation to be the one he was least interested in ever visiting.


    Not too much was known about Paiyi, other than the land itself was diverse. While the coastlines on the boarder of the whole nation had been tropical, and the inland was very forested, the center of the continent was a large, deadly desert. It wasn¡¯t just the heat, lack of food and water and the quicksand that would kill you. There were rumors that the sands carried some of the stealthiest, craftiest, and deadliest of animals in the entire planet. But as far as the people who lived there, it was said most of them were farmers and miners, made to help create enough food not just for the people who resided in their land, but to trade to the outside world whenever able. Caine learned in his middle school religious studies class that the demigod Adriel almost wiped out his three siblings and all the humans outside the nation of Paiyi, but the realization of his horrible actions caused him to withhold his people from ever being a superpower ever again. It was no wonder why they were taken advantage of and never advanced much in technology outside of book writing and basic mathematics. The overly-simple lifestyle for these people had them living in huts made of adobe, and their bigger cities, everything was red with brick in the richer districts, while adobe continued to fill the poorer sections.


    It was hard to believe that not only had the countries been separated for thousands of years, but also that within that time, the four nations had grown so vastly different. Caine prided himself in being lucky enough to live in the nation that had air conditioning and ice cream on insanely hot days. He didn¡¯t know how the other countries must have dealt with weather conditions like that. Or what it must have been like to deal with, what did people call it again? I think it¡¯s¡­ snow, Caine remembered. What it must have been like to deal with snow and the utter cold that never touched the lands of Ryn, or at least none that Caine had spent time in. It was just as outlandish sounding as dragons and witches.


    Caine tossed the ashes from his pipe onto the ground and stamped out any potential embers. Why was he spending so much time thinking when he had a good time waiting for him in the liveliness of the Red-Light District behind him? He watched a small breeze kick the small pile of ash beyond the railing and eventually off the cliff until it left his eyesight. Once it was gone, he cleared his throat and made his way into the wide alley way that had a series of red lanterns lit up on the gates.


    Caine walked around, peering at each one of the whorehouses, and the occasional food or liquor store that was sandwiched every few brothels down. He was tired of the nightclub themed one, where there it was dark and had good dancing music and girls waiting at the bar for you to hit on, dance with, and take into one of the many bedrooms located in the back, past a door that had a cashier and customer service attendant for you to pay for your time, and accessories such as lubrication, alcohol, legal stimulants for those who had a hard time getting it up or for those who paid for marathon sessions. They even had a program for the extremely wealthy who could rent out the entire club for the night to give the illusion of being a highly successful business owner, giving you access to any number of the girls you desired at any time, with unlimited drink and drug service until the rays of the first light of morning. You didn¡¯t even need to use the rented bedrooms, which was usually the rule for standard customers. Caine had seen too many old, rich men have their way with women on the dance floor, not giving a care to who might be watching. And since they had purchased the imaginary title of ¡°owner¡± of the club for the night, nobody could say anything, and anybody who did would have security called on them to have the complainer removed.


    Nah, Caine decided. I¡¯ve spent too many hours and money there. It wasn¡¯t like they didn¡¯t provide excellent service, Caine just needed something a little more¡­ refreshing. He kept walking and saw the All-Natural brothel, the largest brothel in size, appearing to be the size of half a stadium and paused. It promised that the building had six underground floors, each floor a different outdoor scene. One was a forest with a running creek installed, another a warm tropical beach with shallow water to wade in. There was a hot and humid jungle, a scorching and sandy desert, and an uneven and rocky mountain terrain with small caves. The last one was a likeliness of downtown Vern, for those who didn¡¯t necessarily want to be in nature, but wanted the thrill to have their fun outdoors and be seen by the ¡°public¡±, who were paid whores who could join in on your fun if you had the money, or could simply watch for those who were voyeuristic.


    Again, Caine had mentally declined and moved on. Not only did he know the women in there to be more tough, rugged, and rougher than most women in Ryn had acted, he also knew that they didn¡¯t shave...anywhere. While that might have been something other men might find fascinating, Caine was not one of them. If anything, masculine behavior in females was a total turn-off, especially hairiness. Caine always believed it was more lady-like to be slender yet full-figured in all the right places, hairless as a baby seal, and to be submissive and courteous. And most of the population of Vern, if not most of Ryn, had agreed with his sentiments as well.


    There had been brothels that supported a sports-theme, where both the ladies and men were dressed as various sports players and cheerleaders. Another hard pass from Caine. He saw another one that had their whores had dressed and played the stereotypes of the other nations, but the idea of being with somebody who might¡¯ve been overtly religious or industrial (like the people of Ghald), or someone too dedicated to honor and the warrior spirit (like those of Miizu), or just a dirty¡­ peasant (like the primitive people of Paiyi) was more than Caine could stomach right now. He needed something that was both familiar, yet something he hadn¡¯t experienced before, or at least in a long time. No, no, no, no, no... he kept thinking as he kept walking down the street and turned a corner to make way down to another row of pleasure houses and love hotels.


    ¡°Don¡¯t run away from your wife, asshole!¡± a voice shouted, echoing, almost as if it were right behind him, loud and clear as day. Caine swiveled around quickly to see who it was talking, but there hadn¡¯t been anybody near him, and everyone else on the road seemed preoccupied with choosing a place to rest their head for a night of ecstasy, stumbling in gleeful drunkenness while being guided by a friend or call-girl, or just plain uninterested in Caine or anything near him. It also didn¡¯t seem like anybody shouted, and nobody else was looking around as if they heard the voice either.


    Goddammit, am I going crazy? Caine had to ask himself. He peered around one last time to make sure nobody else heard the shouts he heard. This wasn¡¯t the first time this had happened to him, in fact, it had been the third time and it all started at the end of last weekend. The first time he was sitting in his room, listening to music. The voice was much quieter than the shout he had just heard, so quiet he barely even registered hearing it. He remembered the same youthful male voice saying, ¡°Your marriage isn¡¯t a bad thing.¡± It was like a gentle whisper that floated past his ear. He took off his headphones and searched his empty room for a computer or television he had left on by accident; something that would have made sense for a random voice to come through his room. But there was nothing. He shrugged it off and went back to his music, not thinking anything of it. But then three days later, during the tail-end of one of his photo-shoots for some magazine he didn¡¯t care for but paid well, he heard the voice in a louder tone, saying, ¡°Your marriage is too important to give up.¡± Again, he looked around, looking for the cause of the voice. He even asked one of the interns who were setting up lights if they heard anything. They did their best to not look at Caine as if he might have been crazy or possibly messing with them, but it still showed. Caine waved it off and said he was just kidding and turned around to make as much space between him and the intern as he could while still being in the same room.


    Now he heard the same voice for the third time. The first time he heard the voice, he thought almost nothing of it. The second time, it made him realize that the Ceremony of the Moon was approaching, a time where there was supposed to be 16 arranged marriages at the same time. Caine wasn¡¯t sure if that was the reason he had been hearing these voices, but he looked up information about the past Ceremony of the Moons, and noticed that almost one-third of every person who had entered these ceremonies for the last few hundred years had been someone, or related to someone, of political, diplomatic, educational or militant importance. He was the son of the Head of Sciences and Medicines, somebody who could be classified as important, but what else was it that made the chosen 16 people so¡­ chosen?


    Caine forced himself to snap out of it, realizing he was standing in the middle of the narrow roadway like an idiot. The voice had thrown off his concentration enough for him to not really care what type of whore he bought that night. He decided to head into Service!, a brothel that had men and women play the roles of people who were a service to the community. Police (as little as they existed in Ryn, the land of pleasure), firefighters, nurses and doctors, teachers, babysitters, food-market cashiers, whatever you would come across in a day-to-day life. When he walked in, it looked like the waiting area of a restaurant, a cashier behind a table with a few chairs for people to wait, and two big black doors which were guarded by two, bulky and intimidating bouncers. The bouncers kept their eyes forward, stone-like until they were called into action, while the cashier glanced up at the sound of the door opening.


    ¡°Welcome! And how are you doing this- oh, Mr. Bryer!¡± the cashier¡¯s voice was teeming with familiarity. ¡°How are you doing this evening?¡± she eyed him up and down, not being modest or shy when her eyes fell onto his crotch, which made her grin when her eyes met his again.


    ¡°Uh¡­ good, and you?¡± Caine answered without much thought. He scanned her face deeply as he could without coming off as creepy. Her soft round face and large doe-like eyes were more than appealing for Caine¡¯s taste, and as he looked at the rest of her, he saw that her body had met all the requirements he could have ever asked for. Her breasts, while modestly covered, were booming beyond her tight stomach, which spilled out into thick and curvy thighs. The odd thing about her was the neon-pink hair, which didn¡¯t throw Caine off until he realized that it wasn¡¯t dyed and it wasn¡¯t a wig. He had never seen her before, and pretty sure he hadn¡¯t come to this brothel before for her to know his name with such familiarity. But, he knew there had been a handful of times he had celebrated with peers, gotten too drunk and made his way to the Red-Light District without much memory of what happened that night.


    ¡°I¡¯m good now that you¡¯re here.¡± the pink-haired vixen purred with a flirtatious wink. She hadn¡¯t been wearing a name tag like most of the cashiers at the brothels do, but perhaps that was one of the things that made this brothel unique. Perhaps anonymity was part of the fun they were trying to start to introduce here. ¡°So, what can I do you for?¡±


    Caine smiled at her and her loveliness as he took a look at the checklist and pamphlets the voluptuous flirt slid to him over the counter. Every brothel had a checklist of the things you preferred in what you were looking for that night, as well as things you wanted to avoid. A certain type of man or woman you were interested? You could use vague and general descriptions you could check off to best match what you might be looking for. Sexual acts and positions people craved, and a place to write it down if your choice didn¡¯t exist in the group of check-able items. He looked over the digital screen that hung in the air, and it looked almost the same as every other brothel he visited. He looked back at the cashier with a mischievous grin.


    ¡°Well, now that I think about it¡­ I was wondering how much it would cost to get someone like, oh I dunno¡­ you for the evening?¡± he said coolly.


    ¡°Oh, honey, you know the rules...¡± she sucked on her teeth for a moment as if she were about to say something painful. She feigned a grimace before it turned into a playful smile. ¡°It¡¯ll cost you double the amount of the most expensive person here.¡±


    ¡°Well, then...¡± Caine said, flirtatiously playing along with her tone. ¡°If you really did know who I was...¡± he pulled a credit card from his wallet and slid it over to her on the table. ¡°You know that money is no issue.¡±


    ¡°And is your Clean Card still in effect?¡± she asked. The Clean Card was a paper from the doctor saying the patient had recently been checked and cleared for diseases. It had to be reissued after it had been stamped with the date on it at a brothel, making it void the day after the stamp was issued. Someone could visit several brothels in one night, but if you didn¡¯t visit your doctor and get a new Clean Card by the next day, the only place that would accept you were the shady, sketchy and gross whorehouses people tend to avoid unless they were desperate, poor, or heavily dosed on the wrong kind of drugs.


    ¡°I¡¯m as clean as my card, baby.¡± he said slyly, pulling out the stamp-free card with his name, photo and basic information on it and handed it to her.


    ¡°Perfect.¡± she grinned as she scanned both his credit and clean cards. She handed both back to him and stood up as he put them back into this wallet. She gave him a key and turned to leave, saying, ¡°Go ahead to room 14 and I¡¯ll be there momentarily, handsome.¡± she blew a kiss his way, which he playfully pretended pierced his heart along with her good looks.


    ¡°Don¡¯t keep me waiting too long.¡± he raised his eyebrows as they both smiled at each other. She left through a door behind the desk, and the two bouncers opened a door each, letting him enter into the dark abyss that was the brothel hallway.


    As He walked down the hallway, loud dance music was thumping so hard that he could feel the bass in his chest. He figured the music was so loud to distract you from hearing what was going on in the other rooms. He knew the rooms were sound-proofed as best as they could be, but he also knew some people like to get extremely physical or loud, and not everybody wanted to be a part of that noise. He caught himself taking steps to the beat as he scanned the room numbers. 6...7¡­8...10...13¡­ He finally got the door and slid in the key smoothly into the keyhole, imagining that he would be doing the same to the pink haired lovely he was about to meet up with in just a few moments.


    He entered the room and closed the door behind him before feeling blindly for the light switch. When the lights shone, he saw a large heart-shaped bed in the left corner of a fairly large room. Large enough to fit a small Jacuzzi-spa for up to four people in the other corner. There had been a bathroom attached in another room with a large bathtub, and a separate shower. Caine was about to wonder why the bath and shower were separated until he realized that different things can be done in a bath or shower that couldn¡¯t be done in the other, and some people might want the option. The bedroom had five cabinets, a large screen TV and a sound system to hook up any type of music player.


    Caine looked around aimlessly, waiting on time to pass for his lady of the night to arrive. He had first checked the bed sheets and blankets for any visible stains, but he could feel and smell that they were recently washed and cleaned. He ran the water in the tub for a moment to see how long it took the water to warm up before turning it off and made way back to the room. He found the remote on the table stand next to the bed and turned on the TV, only to be met with loud moaning and the slick, wet slapping sound of pornography turned up much louder than Caine imagined. He fumbled in surprise with the remote before he was able to turn it off as quickly as he could, forgetting he was in a sound-proofed room. He went to check out what was in one of the cabinets, and saw a line of sex toys of all types filling up one of the cabinets, accessories such as ball-gags and whips and handcuffs filled another. He opened a third cabinet to see various latex-suits line up next to each other. They had everything between a full-body latex suit that even covered the face to a suit that only covered the crotch and nipple area in an X-shaped fashion. Caine closed the door to cabinet, getting the sense that each cabinet held kinkier and kinkier items, and he didn¡¯t see himself going beyond the latex phase.


    ¡°Sorry I took so long.¡± he heard a seductive voice behind him. He turned around to see his pink-haired beauty closing the door gently behind her, surprised that he didn¡¯t hear a sound of her opening the door and walking in. She had changed into nothing more than a bikini top that propped her bust even more than her work shirt and jean short-shorts that hugged her full and alluring backside. Usually Caine like his women in high-heels when they performed for him, but the barefoot look had done the cutie before him a great service. Caine had a feeling he wasn¡¯t going to forget this night anytime soon.


    ¡°It¡¯s all good,¡± he smiled at her, not shying away from staring at her best assets. ¡°The way you look, you could have taken all night and it would be worth it.¡±


    ¡°Shh¡­¡± she hushed him with a smile, bringing a finger to his lips as she walked effortlessly to him. Her bouncing breasts pressed up against him when she was close enough. She pressed into Caine hard enough to make him walk backwards with her until she pushed him gently back to sit on the bed. She stood in front of him as he sat, breasts directly in his face, begging to be freed from their clothed prison. She took one of his hands and slid it around her waist, placing it so he had a handful of her ass. ¡°If you keep saying corny things, I¡¯m gonna have to charge you extra.¡± she joked while guiding his hand to rub over her entire butt.


    ¡°Something tells me you¡¯d be worth it.¡± Caine grinned while appreciating everything he was feeling and seeing. Pink Hair slid onto her knees in between his legs, spreading his legs before undoing his pants, but didn¡¯t take anything off of him. She saw him eyeing her breasts, looked down at that before giving them a gentle sway back and forth, showing just how full they were. She laughed when she saw how mesmerized Caine had been, and slid her bra straps off her shoulders, exposing the small, pink nipples Caine had starting to grow hungry for. She started to rub the outside of his crotch with the other hand at the same time. Caine felt the blood rush to his loins, his manhood stiffening, and he wasn¡¯t sure if it was her looks or her touch that he loved more.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re really the Caine Bryer, right? ¡°she purred, her hand gently gliding over his hardness, sending shivers down his spine. Caine watched as her other hand unsnapped the button of her shorts, and heard a zipper slide down.


    ¡°As far as my birth certificate says.¡± Caine joked lazily, his mind too preoccupied with everything else this woman was doing to him.


    ¡°Good, because I¡¯ve wanted to meet you ever since I saw you on the cover and in that fashion magazine three months ago. I thought you looked like a sex god.¡± He felt her fingers wrap around his manhood hungrily at the mention of a sex god. Caine could feel his toes start to curl in anticipation.


    ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± was all he could muster to say with a throaty sigh.


    ¡°Yeah, I mean¡­¡± she slid her free hand into her pants, her hand clearly in her own loins. He saw her hand stir for a moment before she brought it out and he could see her fingers glisten with wetness. ¡°Look at what the thought of you does to me.¡±


    ¡°Well, if that¡¯s what only a thought does, you can¡¯t imagine what I¡¯m going to do with you in reality.¡± he growled playfully.


    ¡°Mm, baby, you¡¯re making me so...¡± she didn¡¯t finish her sentence as her hands traveled both into his pants and her own pants, one hand each. Caine felt the first skin-on-skin contact as her warm hands found him. He leaned his back and let out a sigh of relief. He took a few deep breaths with his eyes close as she stirred in his pants like the professional she was. Everything was going amazing until Caine had heard an all-too familiar metallic clicking sound.


    At the exact moment Caine opened his eyes and looked down at his seductress, he felt her hand squeeze around his manhood and something dull, hard and heavy pressed against his balls. When he saw what was happening, he saw that his whore had a small handgun that she had slipped out from underneath the bed, pressed against his balls. Idiotically, Caine¡¯s first thoughts were that this was some sort of random role-play scenario, but her face said otherwise.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move or make a sound or I will blow your balls and brains all over these walls.¡± she muttered darkly.


    ¡°Wait, what-¡±


    ¡°What the hell did I just say?¡± she said, pressing her gun into his crotch to send a more physical type of message. Caine felt his manhood shrink almost immediately as he sat up straight, not trying to move or do anything that might set her off to pull the trigger.


    ¡°You¡¯re Caine Bryer, son of Adam Bryer, leader of Science and Medicines?¡± she was whispering now, and Caine felt it was wise to follow her lead and do the same.


    ¡°Well, Head of Sciences and Medicines,¡± he corrected without thought, but realized it was the wrong time for corrections when he saw her face. ¡°But yeah, I¡¯m him.¡±


    ¡°And you know about the Ceremonies of the Moon and how it¡¯s coming up shortly?¡±


    ¡°Am I supposed to be one of the 16 people who are getting married?¡± he asked, already knowing the answer.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to fill you in with too much,¡± she said, sounding still semi-annoyed. ¡°But what I¡¯m not sure they told you is how quietly, secretly, and unknowingly you must travel to get to the Ceremony Grounds. The Central government goes through a lot of painstaking methods to get information on you to be able to send a messenger like me in a scenario that doesn¡¯t look out of place to your day-to-day life. Your friends and family can¡¯t know where you¡¯re going or why or when. Nobody can know of your movements.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡± Caine asked.


    ¡°Have you heard of the Phantoms, branch of the Central Government that deals with assassinations and other dirty work the government wants no ties to? They¡¯ve found and neutrilized dozens of assassins in the previous years to kill those meant to get married before they reached the Ceremony ground. Word travels fast and effectively in the right networks. If the government could find out enough about you to have me fondle you at gun point, imagine what a real threat could have done if they got to you first.¡± Caine already knew he didn¡¯t want to think about it. Just the fact that she had the gun pressed against him was a turn off, he didn¡¯t need the mental image of his brain splattered against the wall.


    ¡°So, what happens now?¡± Caine asked.


    ¡°What happens is: you gather a small bag of clothes. Don¡¯t over pack, and don¡¯t bring anything you don¡¯t need to stay warm. You shouldn¡¯t look like you¡¯re packing or leaving anything. We need to meet at the teleport station outside the Red-Light District at exactly ten minutes past midnight. Exactly ten minutes after 12 o¡¯clock.¡± she repeated slowly and harshly, as if he had a hearing problem or learning disability. ¡°If you¡¯re even a minute late, I¡¯ll be gone, and you¡¯ll probably be killed off by some backwoods assassin sometime next week, and nobody will care, because there are other candidates that can fill your shoes. If you show up even a minute too early, people might see you standing around and that can tip off spies that might be in the area. Once we¡¯re on the go, we¡¯re not stopping for anything you understand that? The life you had and knew before is over now, get it? You¡¯re now an instrument to help save the world, and if you were to make anything else in your life more important than that, then you deserve to get hunted down, because how selfish would you have to be?¡±


    Caine sat there for a moment, letting all this soak in. So, he was one of those to get married. Was the voice he had been hearing over the last few days been some divine voice trying to guide him? While history had shown that the Goddess Sonova and her demigod children did exist, it had been nearly ten thousand years since anybody had heard from the demigods, and over three hundred years since anybody had records of any type of god-like voices speaking at the ceremony like they used to. Other countries might have belief systems that their gods are working in mysterious ways, but the scientific people of Ryn didn¡¯t believe even the demigoddess Martell, the one who had chosen the people of Ryn when the goddess Sonova created mankind, was capable of doing anything in present day reality if all the gods had been missing for so long.


    Caine also came to realization that his father did know about him and the Ceremony, or at the very least had his suspicions. The random check-up he had, and the way his father said he was proud of him for the first time in his life, as if he was looking for some type of closure. He was semi-government, Caine figured. He was sure his dad had heard whispers and mutters about his son, if they didn¡¯t tell him flat out what was happening. And if what the pink haired beauty was saying was true, then his father couldn¡¯t let Caine know what was happening no matter how much he might have wanted. Not just for national security, but for his own son¡¯s life being at risk at one of the Phantoms.


    Caine also didn¡¯t know about going on a trek to get married to a foreign stranger. First off, he didn¡¯t have a steady girlfriend for the exact reason that he liked to mess around with multiple girls, and he doubted that a wife was going to be okay with that. What if she was bad in bed? Was he supposed to just suffer bad sex for the rest of his life? And leaving Ryn where he had his big and comfy house, his big and comfy bed, and his big and comfy life. None of it really seemed worth it to him, but the world and the government was demanding it.


    Caine looked at a clock. They were supposed to meet ten minutes passed midnight, which meant they had a little more than three hours. Even if it took an hour for Caine to find everything he needed for the trip (when it would realistically take about ten minutes), it would only take ten minutes to walk from his house to the right teleport station. He still had more than two hours to kill.


    ¡°Hey, so¡­¡± he started. ¡°It¡¯s not gonna take me too long to gather my things, and we have a few hours left to kill¡­ and you did charge me extra for your time...¡± he hinted.


    ¡°I am not really a whore,¡± she spat, clearly insulted at what he was suggesting. Caine gave her a look as he nodded towards her exposed breasts and the pants that were almost half way off. To Caine¡¯s surprise she couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the contradiction between her words and her appearance. She checked the time herself, and Caine could see thoughts running through her head. ¡°I¡¯m not really, a whore,¡± she repeated. ¡°But it would look awfully strange to a spy if you came to a brothel and left only a few minutes after being here before leaving, if they truly knew your brothel track record and time spent around here...¡± the sense of flirtation had returned to the pink-haired seductress¡¯ face. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t want anybody to get suspicious, do we?¡±


    ¡°No, we don¡¯t.¡± Caine said playing along.


    ¡°Besides,¡± she said, slowly sliding off her pants and exposing her hairless, sleek and inviting entrance. ¡°You¡¯re getting married. You deserve some type of bachelor party, don¡¯t you?¡± she teased as she walked up to him, her nakedness filling both his eyes and her scent filled his nose. He loved the scent of her, and he could feel his hardness returning.


    ¡°You know, I was thinking the same thing earlier...¡± he agreed.


    As she got on her knees and helped remove his pants, he couldn¡¯t help but think about the voice he had been hearing over the last few days, and the time it had told him, ¡°Your marriage isn¡¯t a bad thing.¡± As he felt the warmth of her mouth enclose over and engulf himself, he couldn¡¯t help but think, Nope, this marriage isn¡¯t a bad thing at all¡­

 3.)Ghald and Daan

    Chapter 3


    Daan Vanzyn heard the same five bells of the old church toll and echo like he had throughout his short eight years he spent in the Ghaldian capital of Krepki and his classmates made their way to the final classes of the day. The redness of the brick that stacked around and made up the place of worship he walked through stood out against the sea of bland colors of tan, black, white and steel gray that the other buildings in the city had. There were five individual bell towers that stood a few stories tall along the outer walls of the church premises. The bell towers were the easiest thing to spot from a distance in the Ghald city of Krepki, and by far the most important. Churches were considered more needed than food markets or government buildings in Ghald, and Krepki had the oldest and most respected church; one of the few that hadn¡¯t been toppled or portions destroyed due to war throughout the millenniums it had stood through.


    The hallways and courtyards were filled with mostly students dressed in their forest-green school jackets trimmed with checkered green-and-white patterns and black slacks or skirts depending on your gender, and a handful of priests and nuns of either scurrying to their own destination or carefully eyeing the students who may be breaking rules between their classes. Daan felt like a drop in an ocean as he clumsily tried to make his way to class, bumping into people who didn¡¯t see him for his shortened height. He was far from being a dwarf, but he was still the smallest boy in his class, and almost half of the girls exceeded his height as well. And while physical bullying was a punishable offense, it didn¡¯t stop from others treating him differently at times, especially the other guys. They always seemed to treat him as if he were¡­ lesser than them.


    Daan continued to make his way to his final class of the day. He had seen Nadia, the cute lime-green haired girl who sat next to him in History, the class he was making his way to currently. She stood at her locker, trying to swap and put away her books as Daan tried his best not to stare. Her long and unscathed legs had made her uniform¡¯s skirt to seem a bit shorter than what it really was, and her bust was enough to make her shirt seem tighter and a whole lot noticeable for the boys who might have wandering eyes. Even though she hadn¡¯t been talking or interacting with anybody, she was smiling, most likely humming a tune that the noise of the world would drown out. She usually hummed when she was happily day-dreaming, enough to the point that teachers would have to ask her to stop in the middle of class every so often. Her smile sparked a fire in Daan¡¯s heart, making him feel like he could melt into a puddle if he stared at it for too long. It was definitely his favorite physical quality about her. She was definitely one of the few things that made Krepki feel tolerable.


    As he started to pass by her, she looked up and caught Daan¡¯s eyes, and her smile only grew with familiarity. It looked like she was about to give him an afternoon¡¯s greeting if he had remained eye contact, but he broke his stare the moment she looked over, and he nervously kept his eyes away from her when he passed. As much as he thanked the gods for having the ability to see such a gorgeous view of a person every day, it was very much a double-edge sword. As he¡¯d learned over the course of being in Morning Glory, the male¡¯s part of the school of religious academics, any sexual feelings outside of a blessed marriage was considered sacrilege, and all things sacrilege were glutton for punishment. The gods are as cruel as they are kind, and only you decide how their judgment befalls on you. Advice he had learned to follow to the best of his abilities. The last thing he needed to do was fall into temptation.


    Daan¡¯s avoiding eyes had made him look outside the walls of the church grounds, and out into the rest of Krepki. The sky was a dark gray, whether from constant smog and coal fumes combining in the sky or deeply overcast, it was unsure to the public. Almost all days were dark and overcast with some type of clouds, whether natural or at the expense of the pollution the factories had made. And the metallic and bland colors of the surrounding buildings had made Krepki look like a hallow and nearly depressing place to be for an outsider. But most of Daan¡¯s peers, this was the only world they had ever known. It had been nearly a decade since Daan experienced what it was like for the sun to fully shine with enjoyment of blue skies and white clouds that didn¡¯t blanket over the entire sky as far as the eye could see, to feel the wide-open spaces of the countryside he grew up in his original orphanage.


    He kept making his way towards his class, feeling mildly guilty for ignoring Nadia. He didn¡¯t want her to think that he wasn¡¯t interested in her, because that was the very opposite of the truth. But at the same time, he definitely didn¡¯t want her to think he was interested in her, because until they had been blessed by the church to enter an engagement, anything more than holding hands was viewed as extremely provocative and also asking for punishment. And it really came down to who was casting your judgment to know how severely you might be disciplined. Some of the priests and nuns were much more lenient than others, but it wasn¡¯t always easy to tell. Some of the kindest priests and nuns seen by the public were the most savage in sending people to be reprimanded in the privacy of the closed church doors. But even though Daan feared the punishment of what the Church was known to do, his biggest fear was that slipping up with Nadia could mean the plans he had been working toward all these years would be destroyed.


    What was worse was that Daan had a girl who had become infatuated with him over the course of the last year, Yara. He and Yara sat next to each other a couple of semesters ago, and they were continually working on projects together hours into the night until the library, classrooms, or any other public learning facility before they had departed from each other to go to their dorms. Every time they had a study session that ended in the evening, Yara would ask if he wanted company as he walked to his dormitory, and not thinking much of it, Daan usually replied that she didn¡¯t need to needlessly walk him home when she lived just about the opposite direction. After a few times of that, Yara began asking if he would walk her home, and as a proper gentleman, he obliged. Each time they arrived to her dormitory, there was an awkward silence before Daan stated something about how he should head home and not take up her time anymore, and most the time she had shown a forced and crooked smile as she agreed and let him head home. But the awkward pause they shared gave Daan the sneaking suspicion that Yara was starting to grow feelings.


    It¡¯s not that Yara wasn¡¯t pretty; it was the very opposite in fact. While Daan had favored Nadia¡¯s looks, every other guy in his classes seemed to talk about how much they¡¯d like to ¡°punish¡± Yara in the bedroom and other religious innuendos. Her breasts were fuller than anybody else in the young adult group of girls, and she almost always ¡°forgot¡± to button the top button of her uniform undershirt, exposing just a peek of her cleavage for the boys to drool over. While Nadia had a warm and innocent smile, Yara had a seductive one that drew more than just curiosity. And yet, while she seemed to be flirty with just about every boy, she had rejected anybody and everybody who had proposed a more serious relationship that could lead towards marriage. She usually said the boys in the school were too hard, callous and dumb to win her over.


    But just last week, Yara had asked Daan to walk her home for old-time¡¯s sake, even though they hadn¡¯t shared a class in about a year. Daan didn¡¯t have anything to do and couldn¡¯t think of a reason not to go at the time, so he felt inclined to accept her invitation. The walk home, she had been chattier than he had ever heard her, filling him in with every detail of how she felt about every class, teacher and student she had been involved with the last year, Daan half-listening. It was at one point that Daan¡¯s lack of interest must have shown too much, because she had stopped talking and drastically changed subjects.


    ¡°Do you like anyone?¡± she asked, studying his face.


    ¡°What¡­?¡± the question had thrown Daan completely off, forcing him to snap back to her with undivided attention.


    ¡°I asked if you liked anyone.¡± There had been a pause for Daan to reply, but when she had seen that he was still stunned by the random timing of the question, she resumed her thoughts. ¡°I feel like every guy around our ages has asked me out in some way or another, and none of them seem- this might seem, like...conceited, but whatever- they never seemed worthy of me. I mean, look at me,¡± she cupped her breasts in hands and jiggled them, making it hard for Daan to look away. ¡°The gods gave me such a ravenous body, and all the boys think that pretending to be nice and good is the way into a girl¡¯s heart¡­ or panties, I¡¯m honestly not sure which boys want anymore.¡±


    ¡°Panties.¡± Daan blurted out. The way he spoke might have sounded cold or cruel, and he looked at Yara to try and explain that boys were known to be little animals at times and not the fact that she was nothing more than a person to be objectified because of her body, but she was laughing before he could get a word out.


    ¡°See, Daan, this is why I like you. You don¡¯t try and sugar-coat anything just so you can try and have a shot at me. You treat me like an actual person.¡±


    ¡°Well, if other guys had spent half the time studying that they do ogling at you and other girls in our class, they could learn that it¡¯s more important to focus on what the gods have to teach us rather than the bodies of the women they¡¯ve created.¡± he said sternly, showing his annoyance while just thinking about the other guys in his class, both for their lack of academic interests and also for the subtle cruelty a majority of them have passed towards Daan over the years.


    ¡°Yeah, but Daan...¡± her voice grew softer as she took a step closer to him. ¡°It¡¯s one of the reasons that I really like you.¡± she took his hand into hers, and they could both feel his heart start to pound harder. There was hardly a time when he had touched a female in a familiar way, especially as softly and gently as he had been right now. He could feel the tension of the moment growing, and he was about to interject and try to turn the situation away from the lust he was feeling starting to dawn on both of them. But before he could get a word in edgewise, as if she could sense he was about to reject her advances, she dived in for a full-lipped kiss. The kiss was both unexpected for Daan, but also intoxicating. The scent of her smelled like a sea of roses and peppermint, her lips much softer than Daan would have ever imagined. She had brought Daan¡¯s hand to her right breast and guided him to give a small squeeze. Her soft mound was both firm and squishy at the same time, something he didn¡¯t expect. He seemed to almost have lost all sense of himself until he felt her hand press against his hardening manhood.


    Feeling the slight touch of his marriage-parts was the thing that snapped him back to reality. He gripped her wrist and brought her hand away from him and snapped his groping hand free as he took a quick step back.


    ¡°We can¡¯t do this,¡± he said, panting and trying to fight all urges to go against the will of the gods. He could see Yara trying to hide the pain of the slap of rejection with a nearly-calm smile.


    ¡°Who has to know?¡± she attempted to be coy.


    ¡°Me. You. The gods. That¡¯s six too many people.¡±


    There was an uncomfortable pause as the two stood there for a moment. Daan could feel Yara trying to think of some loophole, some way to convince him that advancing in their passions would be a good idea, and he was trying to conjure all of the scriptures and lessons he had been taught about remaining pure until marriage day to counter any arguments. But Yara had decided perhaps words wouldn¡¯t be enough, and leaned in for yet another kiss, but Daan managed to gently stop her and back away a step.


    ¡°Yara...¡± he felt bad for denying her like this. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t want to, gods know he would have loved to know what her touch would have felt like if their clothes were to be removed, how she would have looked naked and bare before him, how her moans and cries of pleasure might have sounded. ¡°I have to go...¡± was all he could muster to say, and he turned and quickly left before he had to face the consequences of rejecting such a good-looking young woman.


    It wasn¡¯t that the situation itself was particularly bad for Daan or his morality. He did what he could do to keep the gods¡¯ words, and his best was all they could ever ask for. Normally he would have gone on about his day without thinking about it too much, or at least keep it a secret that didn¡¯t need anybody else knowing as long as Yara had respected his space and didn¡¯t try to attempt the same type of thing again. But on his walk home from Yara¡¯s advances, he had heard a voice, almost too close for it to be said from a distance, but when Daan looked around, nobody was close enough to be where the voice sounded like it was coming from.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with feeling human emotions. Just learn to accept that.¡± The voice sounded just like his own voice, but much calmer and knowledgeable sounding. Was it something he had just imagined? That couldn¡¯t be, he insisted. The voice was way too loud and clear for it to be something he simply imagined. He had learned through church sermons that sometimes the gods may speak to people to pass on wisdom and understanding, and it could often sound like your own voice only a significantly wiser. And Daan had thought that it might have been exactly that. Perhaps the gods were talking to him, trying to show him their way. But if that was the case, why were they telling him it was okay to indulge in such sinful behavior? From what the church had been teaching him, the gods wanted nothing but purity from their followers. Why would they say nothing was wrong with feeling human? Then a more creeping thought came to mind: the church had also taught him that Daemons and devils had powers to influence the mind if you don¡¯t guard your mind and heart of secular lifestyles. And if it wasn¡¯t the gods talking to him and telling him to do the very things the church has always been against, then what else could it be but the dark side?


    Daan wasn¡¯t going to let the voice bother him too much if it only happened the one time, but the voice had returned a few more times throughout the rest of the week. ¡°Your wife isn¡¯t the real issue.¡± the voice told him one day as he was brushing his teeth before school. But Daan didn¡¯t have a wife, nor a fiance, nor any female ready to be a prospect of marriage. It was bad enough to possibly be plagued with Daemons and devils trying to take over your mind, but it¡¯s worse when they¡¯re not even harassing the correct person. ¡°You¡¯re being lied to.¡± the voice told him another time during lunch, and it took all his mental strength to not look around for a person who wasn¡¯t there like the crazy person he felt like he was becoming. He knew nobody else heard this voice based on how nobody at his table looked up to see who was talking. He¡¯d seen what the church did to punish deliberate sinners, but what would they do to somebody who was hearing ungodly voices and possibly be fully demon-possessed? He didn¡¯t like to linger on thinking about such things.


    The final straw was when the voice had told him that, ¡°The Archbishop is not the man everybody thinks he is...¡± and in a disgusted tone. While the other messages had seemed weird and cryptic, this one was the first one to make any sense to Daan, and it was the one that had made him the most upset. The Archbishop was the very person who had visited Daan¡¯s original orphanage in the country and saw promise in Daan¡¯s academic life and brought him to the capital of Krepki. He was the man who had given Daan a new hope, a reason to live, and a decent reputation. The Archbishop was the man who had given millions of church dollars to help feed and clothe the poor, who organized some of the best outreach missions to spread the word of the gods and bring more people closer to a better spiritual life, the man who had taken in and transformed so many broken lives. If the voice was insinuating that the Archbishop was anything other than the holy figure Daan and the rest of world had seen him as, it was clear that the voice was nothing Daan needed to have kept around and he sought help immediately.


    It was in a shanty confession booth that he tried to explain the voices. He wasn¡¯t sure which of the couple of Fathers he was speaking to, but that was half the point of confession in a booth that shielded the priest¡¯s face. He had told the priests that he had been hearing voices, and that while some of their messages didn¡¯t make sense, they didn¡¯t like the Archbishop and said he wasn¡¯t who everyone thought he was. The priests asked when the voices had started and Daan told him. The priest then asked if Daan was involved in any unholy practices that may have allowed dark spirits to enter his mind or soul. Too ashamed to deny anything, and told the priest of the promiscuous kissing he had shared with Yara. The priest asked Daan to tell him who the girl who started this kissing had been, and Daan felt the need to give him the information. After a pause, the priest had told Daan to go home and pray hard and to ignore any more voices that didn''t make Daan feel like his relationship with the gods were building. They thanked Daan and told him to keep the path of righteousness before dismissing him. Daan felt a lot better walking out of the confession booth¡­


    ...Until about a week later, the present day, because Daan was noticing that he hadn¡¯t seen Yara at all since his confession. There was a two-day period between them making out and his confession session, and during those two days whenever they passed in the hallways, Yara simply stuck her nose in the air, ignoring him while being blatantly obvious doing so. Daan felt a little bad, but the fact he had these voices in his head kept him from trying to talk to her. But the day after the confession she didn¡¯t show up to any of the classes they shared. Nor the next day. Or the next. Daan could hear some of her friends talking about how they hadn¡¯t seen her at all. Some of the guys joked about how they missed the biggest set of tits in the whole school showing up for class.


    The fact she was missing wasn¡¯t a secret by any means, and Daan couldn¡¯t help but feel responsible somehow. The church had extreme interrogation tactics to break your spirit and make you confess your darkest sins. They weren¡¯t shy when it came to violence, especially with public executions that seemed to go on at least once a week. As much as Daan loved the fellowship, community, and sense of togetherness that the Church had offered, it was the punishments that might have given him a bit of pause at times.


    If you ever asked Daan his opinion on the church, he would tell the world of the wonders the Church had done for him as a person. He was thankful the Church found him and took him under their wing from his first six terrible years at the orphanage he was raised in. He was happy to be given an opportunity to learn and grow in an environment where people seemed to care for him and his well-being. He had been given a home, a bed, warm food, and a sense of purpose as well as a brighter future than any orphanage had offered any child. The Church had been his life, his reason for living in the sense of both past and future. But it was the torture and public executions that had ended up shattering Daan¡¯s perception of the church. During his young life in the country orphanage, they were taught lessons of the Svya, but it had always focused on the love and forgiving nature of the gods and how to behave in such a manner. But seeing the swift cruelty of what the church could do made Daan question if this was really the will of the gods, or if, perhaps, mankind had somehow inserted their own human-willed agenda into what was originally holy intent.


    Daan continued to walk down the hall, avoiding Nadia¡¯s gaze as well as he could before he could slip into a hallway that housed his next class. If Yara had disappeared and was possibly sentenced to the brutal ways of how the Church liked to make examples of people, the last thing he wanted to do was get Nadia anywhere near that type of torture by falling for his hormones. If Daan felt in his heart that Yara didn¡¯t deserve to be hauled off somewhere to be interrogated about her sinful nature, Nadia deserved even less.


    Daan continued to move towards his class, feeling a bit nervous in the fact that Nadia sat right next to Daan in their next class. Usually, he would revel in the fact that he got to secretly indulge in his feelings for his crush in a way that didn¡¯t feel forced or awkward. He was able to converse with her without making it obvious that he had any type of feelings for her, which was usually a win-win. But if Yara had disappeared on Daan¡¯s behalf like he imagined, he didn¡¯t want anything else to happen to anybody he knew, especially not Nadia.


    While talking about schoolwork had made him feel like he had a shield to hide his feelings behind, he felt himself starting to overthink the situation. He knew if she were to talk to him, he would most likely babble and stumble on his words, and his stuttering would only cause him to react more stupidly and make him feel even less confident. And if she didn¡¯t think he was a complete idiot by that point, Daan was known to blurt whatever might be on his mind when he got too nervous or felt the need to fill a silent moment, and knowing himself, he would most likely blurt out his feelings for her. It was either that, or complete and utter silence and ignoring anything she had to say to avoid accidentally making her laugh smile; the silent-treatment would most likely drive her away even more. Either way, Daan wasn¡¯t looking forward to his usual delight in seeing his class beauty.


    Daan had seen perhaps half the class scattered around the classroom, some of them chatting with one another, others taking out books and notebooks for the upcoming lesson. The classroom had a large chalkboard that spanned the entire wall length-wise in the area it was sectioned, long oak tables were met with that three matching oak chairs that could fit the students comfortably, each had been spread out in neat rows of three-by-five. Daan took to his chair on the left side of one of the most-central tables, his table empty of its other two occupants. Daan started to gather his books and simply listen to the chatter that filled the room. Daan looked outside the window and imagined how much more appealing the courtyard of the Church would look if the sun would actually make its way through the clouds.


    ¡°Good morning, ladies of Morning Grace and gentlemen of Morning Glory.¡± a familiar voice spoke, coated in a sugary sweetness that Daan knew all too well was forced. Sister Tanya, one of the older nuns to be teaching at the school, had been a double-edge sword for Daan and his experience with the school. She was a shorter woman, portly and round, but not in a gluttonous manner. Her face etched with wrinkles showing just how many years she had endured, both her laugh-lines and frown-lines were deepened from years of use. A few strands of her gray hair may have slipped free from her wimple every now and then, but it was usually tucked away in such a fashion that Daan wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if he were to find out she was mostly bald underneath. Her most telling feature, or at the one the kids mocked, was her overly-large backside. The students often laughed and said it looked like she was hiding a baby donkey in her black and white habit, saying she had a ¡°donkey butt¡± or a ¡°literal ass¡± under her clothes.


    ¡°Good morning, Sister Tanya.¡± the class responded in scattered unison as the remaining students who weren¡¯t prepared for class began making their way to their seats and coming to an orderly classroom. Nadia sat next to Daan, and he could smell whatever soap it was she washed with this morning wafting through the breeze of her walking past him to find her seat. Their eyes accidentally met, and she greeted him with her casually warm smile, and he did his best to do the same as a courtesy, but turned his head immediately to the front to pretend like he was paying close attention to the class lesson. He didn¡¯t like acting even more distant than they already were as classmates who barely knew each other, but he figured he would like it less if he or she were to be punished for their romances. If Yara had disappeared because of Daan, he knew that the eyes of the Church and its members may keep a close eye on him to make sure he wasn¡¯t the one at fault for the sexual desires that were exchanged that evening.


    ¡°Now,¡± Sister Tanya started as she saw the last of the students find their seats, papers and pens. She picked up a piece of chalk and started to write on the board in big cursive letters: History Review. ¡°Who would like to help us recap on what we have learned about the history of our four nations starting from the beginning?¡±


    A few hands shot into the air to be selected, and when Daan had seen who it was whose hands were raised, he couldn¡¯t help but roll his eyes. In almost every single history lesson, there were the same three students who had raised their hand to be called upon for just about every question. There was Aldrin, the top student of the school, as well as the son of one of the bishops who had a lot of influential control over the business of Krepki and their ties to the church. Then there was Jocelyn, the girl who seemed to have something to prove to the world. She had been the know-it-all that got on everybody¡¯s nerves, as well as the tattletale teacher¡¯s pet, making her somebody almost nobody in their class got along with. Then there was Jonah, who¡¯s only goal it seemed, was to best Jocelyn in anything in the class. Daan didn¡¯t know the full story, but he heard that Jocelyn had ratted Jonah out a few years back over something small, as well as mocking him for getting wrong answers in the more recent past, and it was more than enough to drive Jonah to be better than Jocelyn, or at least publicly shame her in ways that weren¡¯t violent or overly petty.


    Of course, as usual, all three of their hands were the first to shoot up, Jonah¡¯s hand only a second after he had seen Jocelyn start to raise her hand. But like almost every other teacher Daan had ever had, Sister Tanya decided to choose somebody who not only didn¡¯t have their hand raised, but looked like they possibly didn¡¯t know the answer.


    ¡°Arthur, how about you?¡± Sister Tanya called, and the three academic super-stars dropped their hands in defeat.


    ¡°Uh, where did you, uh¡­¡± Arthur, a kid who had day-dreamed a good portion of his academic career, rushed through the pages of his closed history book, looking for the place the class might have left off, but clearly not having any understanding that they haven¡¯t started reading yet. ¡°Where are we starting from?¡±


    ¡°The very beginning,¡± Sister Tanya¡¯s voice oozing with disapproval in the fact that Arthur was almost never ready for partaking in learning during the course of their study time. ¡°From when the Goddess Sonova first chose our planet of Terra as a place to call home. Can you recall what happened?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± he said, his shoulders lifted in the fact that he was being summoned to answer a question he actually knew for once. But to be frank, just about everybody older than five years old had known this story, making his joy seem a bit underwhelming for those who had tired of hearing the same old story for the millionth time. ¡°So, like... the goddess Sonova first decided to give life to our planet, Terra, sometime around 50,000 years ago. She spent almost ten thousand of those years making mountains and the ocean and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Right...Stuff.¡± Sister Tanya repeated, clearly not impressed with his shallow answer nor hiding the mockery in her deadpan tone. ¡°The Holy goddess had spent ten thousand of her years sculpting the mountains and valleys of the world as all of you know it. She hung every tree, flower, and star in the very place it needed to be. And when she was done with it, she was overjoyed to see how beautiful everything was. And what happened next?¡±


    The same three hands shot up first, but once again, Sister Tanya chose somebody who had raised their hand, but less enthusiastic. She called on a shy girl that Daan rarely ever heard talk in class, Alexis.


    ¡°Well, when Sonova saw all the beauty she made, she became saddened at the fact there was nobody to enjoy the rest of the world she had made for her. Goddess Sonova had started to create animals, and as time went on, the more different she made each creature. But even when the world was filled with all types of animals to swim, fly, and appreciate her world, she wasn¡¯t able to communicate with the animals. They had no full understanding or appreciation for what she had made, and so she decided to take a part of herself and give that part of her body a special force of life. That life would become her first child, and the eldest of the gods to come before her, Adriel.¡±


    ¡°Correct, thank you, Miss Alexis. And who can tell me what happened with Sonova and Adriel after he was born?¡±


    The same three hands skyrocketed as quickly as possible, trying to give Sister Tanya no reason to call on anybody else, and yet she did. She selected another young man in the back of the class, Sasha. Daan knew that the three super-star students who kept throwing their hands up were constantly called throughout the semester that even Sister Tanya was getting tired of hearing only those three voices speak up in class, but that didn¡¯t deter them from trying to be picked on all the time anyways.


    ¡°After Adriel was born, he quickly grew and learned from our goddess about what the planet and all its inhabitants were made of and what made them special. But even the entirety of the whole planet couldn¡¯t hold the attention and playful spirit of Adriel, so the goddess decided to make another child, this time female to be made more in her own image. And that is when the goddess Yukina was born.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Sasha.¡± Sister Tanya said before letting him get too far ahead of the story without giving somebody else a chance to answer or be humiliated. Her eyes scanned the room, and Daan knew that meant she wasn¡¯t going to pick on any volunteer, but more likely an unsuspecting day-dreamer. But to Daan¡¯s surprise, everybody in the class seemed alert and ready to answer a question. Granted, it was an easy review, but that¡¯s what made Daan surprised; most of the time easy questions had caused more boredom and daydreaming than the things that were difficult to understand. Reluctantly, Sister Tanya chose Jocelyn from the three intellectual show-offs before they could shove their hands into the sky.


    ¡°Thank you, Sister Tanya,¡± Jocelyn said graciously, which seemed to pester a number of people in the room. Jocelyn had always seemed overly polite and kind when in the midst of an audience, but every single individual in the room knew that Jocelyn could be a cold-hearted bitch when she was in a small group and things didn¡¯t go her way. She could be vindictive and selfishly cunning and destructive of other people¡¯s lives and reputations in a way that led almost no trace back to her. And if her terrible personality traits weren¡¯t enough to make people avoid her, the fake-politeness she masked was the icing on the proverbial shit cake. Even Sister Tanya rolled her eyes as Jocelyn thanked her for being selected to talk.


    ¡°It was said that after Yukina was born, our goddess Sonova had watched Her first-born son show his younger sister the world and bond through the acts of being siblings. The two grew and learned from each other, as well as entertained each other when the goddess or the rest of the world grew too tired of playing. Adriel was said to have been a tender and loving big brother in the first few thousand years, but Yukina had learned from harsh and cold world that it¡¯s a kill-or-be-killed type world and that there is a time and place for kindness, and a time and place to show people who¡¯s in charge. This sort of edge in Yukina¡¯s spirit had started to cause a rift between her sweet and kind older brother Adriel. The two started to constantly fight and bicker about just about everything, so our goddess Sonova had created a set of twins, a boy and a girl, to help take stress off the older two siblings and foster new relationships to help the family as a whole. But the two new gods, the goddess Martell and the god Doran, had very different personalities as well. Doran was a fiery and overly competitive god who wanted to best his siblings in everything to prove his worth, while Martell was quiet, reserved, and cared more about the inner workings of the world. It wasn¡¯t until-¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Jocelyn,¡± Sister Tanya cut her off before Jocelyn had a chance to get into the rhythm of giving the class a sermon on the history of their gods. It was clear Sister Tanya was getting fed up with Jocelyn¡¯s ability to show off her knowledge. ¡°Who else can tell us what happened after all of Sonova¡¯s original children were born?¡±


    A few of the other hands besides the smart kids had raised their hand this time, and Sister Tanya chose somebody as Daan looked out the window to the gray skies, half-listening and half day-dreaming about the shining sun and bright blue endless skies painted with puffy white clouds he used to see more often in the countryside. It wasn¡¯t as if Daan hadn¡¯t heard the tale of the beginning of life began a million times in the years spent in the church, so intense focus on the subject wasn¡¯t needed.


    ¡°Sonova gave birth to a fifth child, yet the four children didn¡¯t want any more members to be made. They were tired of having to share the whole world with three others, and they didn¡¯t want a fifth child taking up space and attention. So, the very day the fifth child was born, the children of Sonova cursed and hexed the child with what little power they had gained in their young age of gods. To keep the fifth child alive, and also to appease her other children, she had hidden the unknown child in the center of the tallest mountain that lay in the center of the world, casting the child into a deep and eternal slumber until the goddess herself woke the child.¡±


    Daan stared along the rooftops of the houses that peaked above the gates and walls of the church grounds. While every house in the nearby area had meaning for Daan- a friend or teacher or shopkeeper lived plenty of those houses and the houses in the surrounding area- he could imagine that a stranger to their city would think everything looked the same. He heard Sister Tanya pass the continuation of the story onto another student.


    ¡°For two thousand years, the children seemed to be growing even more restless as they developed powers and abilities of their own. Some were jealous of the powers of their siblings, even when their own ability was coveted by the others. The bond of the siblings seemed to disappear as time grew, and the children started to irritate each other and eventually animosity grew too fierce for the children for Sonova to pretend not to notice. It seemed like the children were about to go to war and destroy each other, until Sonova decided that her children needed to learn how to take care of something of their own. So, the goddess Sonova created mankind for her godly children to watch over and care for. Each god had their own share of land and a million people to teach and love. But what Sonova didn¡¯t consider was the fact that her children may use her gift the wrong ways.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Andrew.¡± Sister Tanya stated as the student wrapped up his portion of the tale. Sister Tanya¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for another possible victim. Daan stopped day-dreaming, knowing that Sister Tanya could call on him any moment if he weren¡¯t paying attention at all. Sister Tanya seemed almost irritated when it was apparent every student was paying enough attention to not be the nail sticking up to be hammered down. She gave a smirk before she looked at Aldrin, the superstar whiz-kid. ¡°Alright, Aldrin¡­ at what year did the gods and the four nations begin to go to war?¡±


    Daan would have felt bad if the question was asked for anybody besides the three brainiacs in the class, because it was a trick question that had different parts to answer for the whole question. Daan, as bright and invested in the religion as he was, still wasn¡¯t totally sure he had the correct answer for the question.


    ¡°That depends,¡± Aldrin started, showing a small, cocky grin while the rest of his face seemed unfazed by the difficulty behind the question. ¡°The Gods¡¯ War Era was the third era after the Creation Era and the Era of Children, when the gods were first born, which happened 22,000 years after the Creation Era began, or, in other words, 23,000 years ago.¡± Adriel answered flawlessly. As smart as he could be, Daan sometimes found it annoying how cocky he could be. It¡¯s not like you¡¯ve been groomed by the Archbishop and other members of the Church your whole life, Daan thought sarcastically. And it wasn¡¯t that hard of a question.


    ¡°Correct,¡± Sister Tanya stated indifferently. ¡°And if you could indulge us with what happens at the start of the war¡­ or should I say wars?¡±


    ¡°The four children of Sonova were granted humans from their Mother to give love and knowledge to them, hoping it would be a good distraction from the constant fighting and arguing they did so often. And for nearly 5,000 years there was peace, or at the very least, a lack of animosity. But peace between the children never lasted long. Some of the gods had been kind and brought blessings to their humans. Some of them were cruel and punished those who didn¡¯t obey their every word. Some of the gods tried instructing their siblings how to raise their humans, and that would cause certain gods to do the very opposite just to spite the wisdom that was shared. But at one point, all four of the children grew bored of the world and its inhabitants. And that¡¯s when Doran, the god who chose Ghald as his land of chosen people, had decided to start warring his humans with Adriel¡¯s humans of Paiyi.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Aldrin,¡± Sister Tanya could tell that Aldrin was getting almost more amusement out of hearing his own voice than Jocelyn did. ¡°Daan, could you please continue?¡±


    ¡°M-me?¡± Daan croaked. Sister Tanya had stopped Adriel so briefly and chosen Daan so suddenly that it came as a surprise. It was almost as if she was waiting for anybody to let their guard down, and Daan was the first victim she spotted.


    ¡°Yes, if you could let us know what happened after Doran attacked Adriel¡¯s chosen people of Paiyi with our people of Ghald?¡±


    ¡°Um, yeah...¡± Daan cleared his throat and tried to find his words. ¡°The people of Ghald had landed successful attacks all over Paiyi for a year, and Adriel did almost nothing about it, knowing his younger brother was acting out childishly. But after a year of hearing the cries and pleas of his people, and seeing that Doran had no intention of slowing down or stopping his attack, Adriel retaliated. And he retaliated hard. Adriel not only killed or captured all of the Ghaldian people who were on his land, but he massacred and tortured all those who stood on the border of Paiyi and Ghald as a lesson to Doran not to cross any more lines. But Doran was stubborn and wouldn¡¯t listen, and tried to attack Adriel again, but Adriel only slaughtered Doran¡¯s forces and civilian Ghaldians with every attack. Adriel, tired of Doran¡¯s stubbornness, decided to eliminated all of the Ghaldians in an attempted genocide that would put Doran in his place as the lower, younger brother once and for all.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Daan,¡± Sister Tanya dismissed him from talking any further and selected another student in the class to continue the tale.


    ¡°After Adriel had nearly wiped out half of the entire innocent population of Ghald,¡± a student named Garret continued. ¡°The other three gods grew concern of the war that was happening. Lady Yukina had tried speaking to her older brother about backing off a little, but Adriel only reminded her he was the oldest and strongest out of all of them, and she had no business trying to butt in. Adriel had razed a handful of villages from Miizu to the ground as a sign not to try and get involved. But Yukina loved her children, some say more than any of the other gods, and she had joined alongside Doran to help stop Adriel from the power-hungry ways he had fallen into. Martell, the goddess who watched over Ryn, wanted nothing to do with the war for as long as she could help it. So, it was Yukina and Doran, and their people of Ghald and Miizu against their older brother and the land of Paiyi.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Garret.¡± Sister Tanya said, and she turned her back to the class to start writing something on the chalkboard, something she usually did when she was done choosing people to give answers and do the lecturing herself. ¡°So, after Doran and Yukina declared war on Adriel and Paiyi, there was a clashing of war between the three nations for hundreds of years, scholars and church officials alike are not sure of how many years exactly. But even as two gods and nations, they couldn¡¯t bring Adriel to his knees. They waged war for thousands of years more, hatred for Paiyi was strong from the rest of the world, and that hatred only fueled Adriel and Paiyi¡¯s need to punish and destroy. It wasn¡¯t until Martell, the lover of wisdom and knowledge, had decided to join Yukina and Doran in order to end the fighting and bring peace to the land. As the three worked together, it seemed they would finally begin to defeat Adriel on the battlefield consistently.


    ¡°There was a point nearly 10,000 years ago to this day when the trio had a plan to put Adriel down once and for all, and to wipe the nation of Paiyi out for all the destruction and bloodshed that remained on their hands. Adriel¡¯s numbers were dwindling, and everybody knew it. The three nations planned to launch one heavy attack to break down their eldest brother¡¯s forces, and it had seemed fool proof. That was, until Adriel came after Doran with his biggest weakness of all: his pride. Adriel mocked Doran¡¯s masculinity, saying he couldn¡¯t win a fight without the help of his sisters, and that he was the weakest of them all. Doran, the one who had grown to be the second largest army behind his older brother, fell for the trap, and began to strike on his own without the help or counsel of his sisters. And it was everything that Adriel could have asked for.


    ¡°Doran had half a million men, ten times the amount of his brother¡¯s army, and he launched them all in one swift assault. But the areas Adriel and his men were reported to be were empty of bodies, but full of booby-traps. 200,000 men lost their lives in explosions, fire, barrage of arrows, and traps of all kinds before Adriel and his men appeared, surrounding the Ghaldian army who were already taking a beating. Between Adriel¡¯s men and the traps, yet another 100,000 were lost before the last of the traps were activated and Adriel and his men drew their weapons and charged into the battle. By the time Yukina and Martell had heard of the Ghaldian Massacre, there had only been 40,000 Ghaldians left, while the nation of Paiyi hadn¡¯t even lost 2,000 men. The survivors were given the chance to join Adriel or be slain, and most chose life.


    ¡°With Doran¡¯s portion of the trio¡¯s massive army shattered, the sisters knew they couldn¡¯t withstand any attack that Adriel might have thrown at them, and they sent terms to surrender. But Adriel didn¡¯t care about leaving those who opposed him to remain alive, nor did he forgive his siblings for trying to stand up to him. Adriel purposely and sickeningly would annihilate entire villages and cities as slow and cruel as possible, only for his sisters to hear the horrid news and blood-chilling cries. Every messenger sent to Adriel in hopes of a peace treaty was brought back in several bloody boxes. It didn¡¯t matter if the Paiyites had seen a foreign soldier or an innocent child from another land, it was in their nature to destroy anything that didn¡¯t come from Paiyi.


    ¡°After nearly 10,000 years of war, the goddess Sonova could no longer let her children keep behaving in the fashion that they had. Sonova asked each one of her children to set aside their differences and to bring peace to the land and help reconstruct what had been destroyed in their damage. Yukina, Martell and Doran had quickly agreed, as they had been trying to do for millenniums, but Adriel still rejected the idea of seeing his siblings as equals. He told his mother the he was the first born, and he was clearly stronger, more tactical, and a better leader than any of his siblings, and he demanded something that Sonova couldn¡¯t give more than once: her ability to create life.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°While her children were gods and can do miraculous things, no human has ever been able to do, and while they could resurrect a person who had recently passed away, they hadn¡¯t acquired the unique ability to create life like their mother, nor did it seem like they were ever going to grow the strength for the gift on their own. Adriel demanded the power be given to him, as it was wasted on his weaker siblings and their humans, and even wasted on his mother for creating such weak gods and the people who served them. Adriel believed he and his followers were unconquerable, and he threatened to rise against his own mother if she did not provide the Gift of Life he demanded.¡±


    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand is: why did Adriel think his Mother was going to give him the Gift of Life when he was so adamant on destroying his whole family and most of the planet? If the goddess Sonova had enough strength to create a planet and such powerful beings as her children, why didn¡¯t she simply destroy Adriel, or at the very least contain him for eternity?¡± Jocelyn said after her hand shot up in the air, not waiting to be called upon.


    ¡°As we all have experienced the Goddess¡¯ love and mercy, you must remember she created the world to inhabit and give to her children. To punish her children for doing what they want in a world she created for them to do just that would be hypocritical. Without the mercy of Sonova, we are nothing more than the playthings for her children. Praise Sonova.¡±


    ¡°Praise Sonova.¡± The class echoed in scattered unison.


    ¡°And who could tell me what happened after Adriel threatened his mother if she did hand over the Gift? Yes, Jonah?¡± She chose the last of the notable students.


    ¡°Not taking him seriously, and thinking her children would never try to strike against their own Mother, Sonova pleaded that Adriel would stop the constant bloodshed and make peace with his siblings. Then, and only then, would she consider giving the gift to any of her children. She would not give anything until there was peace. And, reasonably enough, she thought that that may have been enough to end the discord among her children. And Adriel had actually agreed on the deal to her face, but it was a bold lie for him to buy the time he needed to take his Mother down by surprise.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Jonah.¡± Sister Tanya dismissed him and continued herself again. ¡°Adriel had pulled all his forces from the borders of his siblings'' lands. But as he pulled out from each nation, he left the leading sibling of that nation the same message: Mother was going to give him the Gift of Life if they ended the wars, but he was going to kill her and take it anyway. Anybody who would say anything or get in the way would be destroyed and the rest of the humans would be tortured and made sure to curse their names before their lives were taken. And if any of them actually helped assist him in the matricide, they would even be given some of the Gift to share. Each sibling swore to help Adriel the best they could, and they wouldn¡¯t say a word to anybody about his future attempt.


    ¡°But each sibling was lying to Adriel, and they conspired against him behind his back. They knew that Adriel had the power to destroy all of them and their mother. Even if She suddenly found the desire to put Adriel in his place, half of them would die before that happened. So, the children fearing for their own lives, decided to allow Adriel to attack his mother and spend his energy on her and attack him immediately after while he was spent. They agreed to share the gift afterward, and to never gain the greed that had overtaken their eldest brother.


    ¡°The day Adriel had launched his attack, it had gone exactly as he had planned. His three siblings met with him at the rocky canyon-gates of his mother¡¯s natural paradise and positioned themselves for attacking. The commotion did not last long. Adriel and his forces attacked, expecting his siblings¡¯ forces to join, but they all stood outside the gates. Too eager to change plans, Adriel headed in alone and slaughtered the few hundred who occupied the area his Mother resided in, right at the foot of the Mountain that used to stand in the center of the world.


    ¡°Nobody but Adriel knows exactly what happened next, but Adriel had chosen to speak to his mother alone before he took her life. The conversation has been recorded to have lasted nearly half an hour before there was a bone-chilling scream that could be heard in all four nations, and a bright light that descended from the sky onto the entire mountain range below, strangely turning the stones of the mountain white, and an explosion that had destroyed the small chapel that stood at the peaks of the mountains.


    ¡°Since nobody knows what happened other than the story Adriel told, this is all we know: Adriel told his siblings later on he had confronted his mother and tortured her demanding the gift, all while she kept telling him she didn¡¯t have it anymore. Thinking she was lying, he beat her nearly to death before she weakly explained that she had removed the Gift from within her, and set it alongside the sleeping fifth child that was hiding in the depths of the world, locked away by a magic barrier that not even Adriel at his greatest strength got past. In his rage, Adriel ended his mother right then and there, but her death had caused the explosion. The damage done to Adriel had weakened him to a state of barely being able to stand¡­ leaving him to soon be surrounded by his vengeful siblings.¡±


    ¡°But his siblings weren¡¯t vengeful.¡± Daan blurted out his thoughts before he realized he was speaking. He felt his face turn beet-red as his entire class and Sister Tanya looked at him in surprise.


    ¡°No, they weren¡¯t, were they?¡± Sister Tanya raised a brow as she spoke, still curious to his sudden outburst. ¡°And if they weren¡¯t vengeful, do you care to tell us what happened next, Daan?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± he said nervously. ¡°Adriel had passed out from exhaustion before his siblings could even begin to attack. Seeing their brother as weak as he had ever been in his existence, they decided to imprison him rather than kill him, to honor the life of their mother and her mercy. When Adriel woke up, he did not speak for nearly a decade, nor did he eat or do anything other than lie in his prison and stare out its lonely window. When he did finally speak, his first words were a plea to tell his people to abandon all the ways of war and advancing technology. They were to live a life of basic needs, and they were going to aid the rest of the world in whatever ways they possibly could in their spartan lifestyle. They were to make twenty-times the amount of farms the country already possessed, and to mine all areas with any large deposits of metal in the earth. And the people of Paiyi have remained living this way all the way to our present day.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, again, Daan,¡± Sister Tanya spoke, her tone indicating that she had hoped that with another chance to talk Daan would stop blurting things out and interrupting. ¡°The other three gods had passed the word to the nation of Paiyi and they immediately began to change their ways. They helped restore the other three nations, but that didn¡¯t mean the other nations and their gods weren¡¯t wary of their eldest brother. But Adriel had truly changed. He had stated to his siblings several thousand years later that the fact their Mother was murdered by his own hands had killed a part of himself, in a sense. Adriel rarely spoke or did much other than guide his people to help the other nations for the remainder of his physical form.¡±


    ¡°How come we call it their ¡®physical form?¡¯¡± a student asked after raising their hand and being selected, pages of their notebook had been filled out during the duration of the talk, and Daan assumed they were preparing for any possibility of a pop quiz coming up later that day.


    ¡°We¡¯re getting to that.¡± Sister Tanya said curtly. ¡°After the God¡¯s War Era, the siblings had agreed to act more like their deceased mother, and be loving authoritative figures, rather than rulers over the humans. They had given humans their freedom to live their own lives and not just be the playthings of the gods, and decided to let humans make their mistakes and learn from them. But the gods foolishly thought that us humans were capable of making decent decisions by ourselves. The other three nations aside from Paiyi were so accustomed to war and battles, that without the laws and discipline of the gods, humans would war and slaughter and rape one another. The gods would moderately intervene, but not enough, in fear that the other siblings may assume they were going back on their word and might try to obtain power over the others like Adriel did.


    ¡°But through war, the people of Ryn began to use science and to develop technology. They began crafting bigger and faster boats, their city structures began to be more advanced and well-defined. But it was their defensive war tools that made the other gods suspicious of Ryn, and they began to assume Martell was secretly plotting against them. Arguments were made, fights began to be more common as time progressed. Eventually arguments and angry words turned into thoughtless action, and Yukina had purposefully attacked several Ryn cities to put her sister in her place. This would cause the gods to bicker and have small periods of war, seek forgiveness, but only to go back to war decades later over the same issues. Certain human cities had such hatred for certain nations that they would attack cities without their gods giving any war-commands, which caused more bickering among siblings, and more war to break out. This would be known as the Human¡¯s War Era, and it would last until 300 years ago, leaving us presently in the Modern Era.¡±


    ¡°So, what exactly caused the end of the last Era?¡± another student from the back asked. ¡°Because despite what we¡¯ve been taught from the holy book of Svya, I¡¯ve heard rumors and from a great number of sources about how the last era ended.¡±


    ¡°And do you think those sources would know better than those that were visited by the gods to write their story, to write the Svya? To have been blessed and given people the power of visions of the past, only to be questioned by secular mortals?¡± Sister Tanya¡¯s voice had been tight, as well as sharp. It was one of the biggest offenses to the Church to change or question the teaching in the Svya.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to-¡±


    ¡°I know your intentions mean well, but it is important that all of you learn to grow wise enough to listen to anything that doesn¡¯t come from the Svya, the church of the Mother and Holy Four, and whatever direct message that comes from the heavens in a loud booming voice of the gods. Humans are fallible, opinions get murky and cluttered with uneducated assumptions and think they know better than the gods because of their science and technology.¡± Sister Tanya¡¯s voice didn¡¯t hide her disdain for modern advances that didn¡¯t have to do with the church. Sister Tanya was also considered one of the lenient enforcers of those types of rules and standards, and Daan feared whoever in the church might have had much harsher views.


    ¡°When was the last time we heard the booming voices of the gods come down from the heavens?¡± Jonah asked a question that was never specifically covered in the classes they had taught, and Daan could feel the curiosity grow in the other students in the class. Eyes of students who seemed bored only moments ago were staring at Sister Tanya for an answer.


    ¡°The last time the gods were written to have spoken from the heavens nearly 300 years ago, just before they disappeared. But they have sent messages through dreams and visions to a handful of prophets that have appeared to us over that time. But before we get too engrossed in the prophets, who can tell me how the Human¡¯s War Era came to an end?¡±


    The class seemed to collectively sigh in disappointment. Whenever questions were asked about the last time anybody had seen the gods, or heard the gods, there always seemed to be an unsure answer, and the answers were different even if they seemed similar. One Priest may say it wasn¡¯t until 297 years ago, and another Priest would tell you it was 299 years ago with the same amount of confidence back when Daan was young and first growing up in the church. But as they¡¯ve gotten to the age of adulthood, the answers came out more cryptic than ever, or they were countered with a question shot back that usually questioned the student¡¯s faith. Nobody was going to say the Church didn¡¯t have all the answers; Daan and his classmates had seen all too well to those who would say such blasphemous things. When nobody volunteered to answer the question, Sister Tanya chose Jocelyn, who had seemed antsy to give more answers and receive more praise. Daan couldn¡¯t help but roll his eyes at her eagerness.


    ¡°After so much war and chaos among the humans, whether the gods commanded their wars or not, the civilization of mankind was dwindling down to near extinction. The gods knew that without helping and supporting humans, they may go back to simply being bored and irritable and may cause war against one another. Not only that, but each god had become caring for the nation they chose to represent. So, when they noticed their humans were almost all gone, they decided they had to do something, but they didn¡¯t have the power themselves to create more life. Without any other options, the gods decided it would be best to try and find the Unnamed Child and the Gift their mother had left with them in the center of the world. Not wanting the last of their people to be wiped out, the gods decided to go inside the middle of the earth and find the gift.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Jocelyn.¡± Sister Tanya said nonchalantly, but Daan could see Jocelyn beam with a smug smile regardless. ¡°Nobody knows what exactly happened, but one of the gods had triggered something in the magic barrier that surrounded the Unnamed Child. With a bright and massive explosion, the entire mountain range that stood there had been completely wiped out, and was replaced with a massive crater that filled with water and left nothing but a tiny island. The magic barrier that was contained in the center of the world had flourished and cut the entire world into four parts, blocking the nations from contacting each other or traveling to one another. It wasn¡¯t until almost a hundred years ago when the nation of Ryn had developed a technology to allow very small amounts of materials, whether living or not, to go through the barrier per day. But by that time all the of the nations had grown even more estranged from one another. Languages developed differently, cultures started to become more diverse, people began to-¡±


    The loud clamoring of the five bells in the towers surrounding the church grounds rang one time in unison, causing Sister Tanya to stop talking and the class to lose focus of the lecture. Depending on how many times the bells rang, it was meant for a different message. One ring meant that it was time for the classes to pause for a moment of prayer. Two rings meant that the priests and nuns were needed for an emergency meeting. Three rings meant the Church may be under attack or on fire or any other type of danger that would mean evacuation. Four rings meant a public execution was going to happen, and an audience was being requested. There were plenty of other bell toll patterns that only the priests and nuns knew their meaning, but those were far less frequently used.


    The first bell toll caused the students to look up from their books and listen for a few seconds, some of the students shifting to get ready for prayer. When the second bell tolled, all eyes fell either on Sister Tanya to see her reaction, or out the window to see how the nuns and priests in the courtyard were responding to the second bell toll. Before Daan could even wonder what type of meeting the staff of the Church might need to attend, the third bell rang. It was the third bell toll that sent chills down Daan¡¯s spine, and he could feel the same tension surround him and his fellow students. The first two rings always meant safety, but once the third bell rang, it usually resulted in somebody possibly dying. Whether it was an attack or because an execution had to be made public, Daan could feel death creeping around and filling the hallways. Even Sister Tanya, who was as hard as a rock when it came to emotions, seemed troubled by the third bell. Part of the tension was released when the fourth bell toll had rung. If anybody was going to die, at least it was a part of an agenda, and not random chaos.


    ¡°Well, ladies and gentlemen,¡± Sister Tanya said softly as the fourth bell toll rang into the empty air with no signs of any further ringing. ¡°Pack up your things and stand in a single file line in alphabetical order like we¡¯ve practiced on safety drills. We will be moving out to the town square to see who the secular deviants are who have summoned the judgments of the gods. Please don¡¯t go ahead of the group, stick together, and do not wander to talk to friends from your other classes before we get there. And when the execution begins, I expect you to be on your best behavior. It¡¯s a privilege to see what happens to the those who tend to live with lives for the wicked.¡±


    Daan started to collect his books and pack them into his backpack, unsure of how he felt about viewing another execution. He hadn¡¯t been to one in a few years, and the last one he attended had him and his classmates in the back row where they could barely see or hear anything that was happening. At the time, Daan didn¡¯t mind; he had no real interest in seeing the bloodshed of people he had possibly seen walking in the streets of his home. But as he grew older, he saw what happened to those who showed even just a shred of remorse or sympathy to those who were charged with religious crimes. They were treated as outcasts, or even worse, they would eventually be persecuted for the smallest and most forgivable of sins. Because of this, Daan had learned to not express such sympathies outside his thoughts. If he were to watch a beheading, he would have to force himself not to flinch at the sound of the ax meeting the chopping block. If they were to burn a person at the stake, he would watch and listen to their tortured and bone-chilling screams of agony with a stone face. Even if he didn¡¯t want to witness any of this, he knew there were people watching, whether staff of the Church, or fellow students who might be eager to tattle just for some brownie-points. He had to be careful.


    It only took a minute or so of standing in his place in line before the line began to move out the class and spill into the hallways. He watched as other classes maintained their form as they tried to navigate as a larger horde. It was much easier to move when they got outside and into the courtyard. Daan felt the sense of excitement from other students in other classes as the school groups left the Church campus and headed towards the town square. He knew the excitement was more for the fact that they were able to leave school early rather than the actual activity that was happening downtown. But Daan had a questionable feeling about heading towards a public execution. Yes, he knew it was wrong to go against the teachings of the gods and their rules were made to help keep a peaceful world. But why were the sentences for punishments so openly cruel? Because the world we live in is harsher than anything the Church can ever hope to deliver he heard the voices of several priests and nuns saying the exact line whenever somebody in his class had asked the question. But it never felt like a fulfilling enough of an answer.


    Daan¡¯s class followed Sister Tanya through the town square, and the streets seemed to fill more and more with each passing street block. At first it was more students and staff members of the main Church of the Mother in Krepki, and then he started to see other uniforms from other church academies that were spilled throughout the town. While all the boys had long sleeved white button up shirts, a jacket to cover the top along with slacks, and the girls had the same white button-up long sleeve and jacket with a skirt and high-knee socks, each school had their own colors. The colors of the main Church, the school Daan attended, had always been a forest green and white, but here he saw colors of black and gold, or red and blue. However, each one of the staff members had been wearing the same black and white outfits as they had in every church.


    After a few more blocks, Daan could start to see workers from the inner city starting to mix in with the crowds of students. Some of them had soot or coal or oil smeared across their worn and tired faces and clothes, and most of them looked tired from the regular 14-hour work day that was mandatory for all residence in Ghald who didn¡¯t attend any of the church programs for work or school. That was the custom in Ghald: serve your life in the Church, or by providing the services to the industrialization of the nation for more than half of your entire day for 6 days a week. When Daan asked why the people who didn¡¯t work in the Church had to work such long hours, it was always explained that it was so that, ¡°people could focus on working hard rather than use their energy in sin.¡± Daan, like most of his classmates, accepted it without much thought. They had always just believed that was the way things were, and like most of the Church congregation, they didn¡¯t ask many questions regarding the ways of life based on their faith. That is all going to change soon, a voice whispered, and he couldn¡¯t tell if he audibly heard it, or if it were just a passing thought that struck a nerve, but he couldn¡¯t afford to look around aimlessly like he had when he thought he heard the voice speak to him the first few times.


    The rivers of people started to pour into the town square, an area that was a large encircled area paved neatly with cobblestone, a large wooden stage made of fine polished oak, yet scarcely any trees, benches, or any objects to take up space. During certain times of the year, farmers would host a small market for a week in this area after certain harvests were completed, which made the large, nearly-empty space perfect for an event. On summer nights, plays and musicals would be performed on the large stage from both traveling professionals and local amateurs. It was a beautiful area during the summer evenings just as the sun began to set and gave off an orange hue to the nearby houses and buildings that surrounded the area, making everything seem so inviting to commune with your neighbors. Those events were the handful of days that even the overworked members outside of the church were allowed to relax and join their neighbors, family and friends.


    But the main reason the town square was built was for the very reason they were traveling there: public executions. Daan had seen more than enough in his life, and as much as he loved the Church, it was his least favorite thing to come from it. He remembered the first execution he witnessed back when he was eight years old. It was a woman who had been caught stealing from the tithe box in the church who was given the choice of hanging or being burned to death, and she chose hanging. The Church had usually given their victims a choice on how they were going to die, especially if they were going to execute numerous people in the same go. Daan realized that they gave the people with lighter offenses the first choice of the more humane deaths, and would leave those who were worse off to experience the true torment of their actions. Hanging, burning by fire, and being shot by a firing squad were by far the most human- and the most common- of deaths that Daan had seen over the years. But he had the feeling the church had more than enough fun finding new and creative ways to punish those who they felt were more deserving of the wrath of the gods.


    Daan and his class filled into the crowd that started amassing at the front of the stage. There were only a handful of rows of people ahead of him, but his group would still be closer to the front than those who would show up later. And as the minutes ticked away and more and more people started to fill the entirety of the town square, the more Daan could see that the entire city, if not the whole nation itself, was split into four categories: those who ran the Church, those being groomed to become the new Church staff, and the common workers, and the elderly or school children. Daan couldn¡¯t think of one other type of person who didn¡¯t fit one of those categories. Sure, there were poets, artists, musicians and all things alike, but they were typically doing their artistic work for the purpose of the church. And while there were occasional whores that had roamed the streets for years, Daan couldn¡¯t think of a single whore he saw from his first year moving to the city still alive and not converted by the church yet. A whore¡¯s fate was one of those two things: salvation or death.


    It had nearly been an hour before the crowd heard four strong tolls from the bell towers of the church once more, and Daan couldn¡¯t be sure if it was simply a reminder for those who may not have heard (something Daan highly doubted, seeing as he¡¯s heard the bells metallic song from just barely beyond the farthest city wall away from the church), or if it was a sign that the executions would begin shortly. In his experience, it seemed to go both ways equally as often. But his pondering ceased when he heard a commotion from the crowd behind him, and when he looked he saw the sea of people splitting through the middle to let a group through. It wasn¡¯t until the people directly behind him started to move to the left that he followed suit, but saw that he was looking down an empty path.


    Daan saw a group of four priests and two nuns in their black and white wimples and cassocks, and an archbishop dressed in white robe, bound with a red vest with gold trimming and a red biretta walking along with a gold staff. The archbishop¡¯s age was at least twenty years older than the oldest priest in their group, with wispy white hair that seemed to be fading to nothing, deep wrinkles that seemed to crack along the ridges of his face, his eyes hard enough to tell that the things he¡¯d seen in his lifetime would leave a wounded soldier feeling morbidly sympathetic. And though the Church had talked plenty of the love and mercy of Sonova and occasionally some of her children, there was no love in this man¡¯s eyes... only judgment.


    Behind the group of Church leaders were a mixture of Academic students and workers, at least a dozen in total, carrying a large golden statue of Doran, the god who had chosen Ghald to be his people. Doran held his sword upside-down with both hands on the hilt as the tip of his blade dug into the earth, his face as firm as the archbishop¡¯s, but not nearly as intimidating. Perhaps his face is so fierce that the sculptor didn¡¯t do it justice, Daan wondered, remembering the tails of how fearful Doran could be known to be. Each one of the people carrying the statue seemed to be having difficulty carrying it such a distance, but not enough to ask for more help. Daan watched quietly as they slowly passed in front him, trying his best not to be in anybody¡¯s way or be any type of distraction.


    When the group finally got onto the stage after trying to maneuver the large and heavy statue, it came down with a heavy thud that Daan could feel the vibrations in his feet. The carriers backed away from the statue, most of them out of breath, some even bent over to catch their breath before getting off the stage. Once the stage was only dressed with the staff of the church and their godly statue, Daan could hear the chatter and commotion slowly cease. Not a word was spoken as the archbishop moved to the front of the statue where a microphone was placed, overlooking the crowd. For a moment, he didn¡¯t say anything; he simply scanned the crowd, slowly panning from left to right, as if soaking in each face to memory. Once it appeared he had seen the whole crowd, he pounded his staff onto stage twice.


    ¡°Children of Doran!¡± His voice echoed from the speakers placed all around the town square, off the nearby buildings and walls, and he let the echoes fade before resuming his speech. ¡°It is an honor and a privilege to be in this beautiful city, the capital of this amazing nation that our gods have blessed so very much! Thank you for joining me underneath the Blessed Mother and her Children.¡±


    ¡°Blessed be the Mother and Children,¡± the crowd repeated in scattered unison.


    ¡°However, as much as we have had much beauty in our lands¡­ there is also much darkness. And as the Svya has taught us¡­¡±


    ¡°¡®Darkness must be purged.¡¯¡± the crowd roared along with the archbishop with the message from the Svya in surprising energy. With how tired and dead everybody appeared to be on the walk to the town square, the archbishop seemed to have rejuvenated their energy. Daan looked around him and saw some eager faces ready for the show that was about to go on, and wondered how anybody could be excited for the ending of somebody¡¯s life. Sure, he understood that there were rules for a reason, and those rules had to be followed. But to have actual joy at one of these executions always baffled Daan.


    ¡°We bring you four sinners who have committed crimes against our nation and our gods, and they are here to learn that no matter what atrocities you try to hide, the truth cannot be hidden for long, and the gods will seek justice one way or another.¡± the archbishop announced, and drew his hands forward, indicating the open path between the crowd that archbishop had just walked through.


    Daan had seen four people in a tattered sack that was turned into a one-piece that was enough to cover from shoulders to knees, chained and shackled from their wrists and ankles. Most of them had looked beaten and bloody from beatings from at least a day prior, and that¡¯s only the wounds that were obvious. Daan could see plenty of more subtle scars and bruises one their arms and legs. He couldn¡¯t tell who they were at a great distance but he started to make out their faces as they got closer. There was a man and a woman in their forties, a young man at least five years older than Daan himself and¡­ Daan couldn¡¯t believe his eyes when he had recognized Yara as the last person being dragged through the hallway of watchers. Yes, she had a tendency of being overly flirtatious, but Daan didn¡¯t think she had committed a crime so great that her own death was considered necessary. All Daan could do was stare as the group passed. At one point, she made eye contact with Daan, which made his heart stop. He expected anger or pain or a plea for help in her eyes, but to his surprise there was very little emotion. It felt as if she half-dead already.


    The four prisoners had been forced onto the stage, the man slightly older than Daan gave a small struggle being forced up the stairs until a couple of the guards guiding them whipped the butt of his spear across his face before smashing into the center of the face, making a sick, wet crunch before a river of blood started to ooze from his nose. The young man muffled his screams of pain in his hands as the guards forced him onto his feet and up the stairs. The guards and the staff of the Church that remained on stage seemed to show no hatred or ill-will towards the prisoners, yet their faces showed even less pity. When the four prisoners were lined up on the front of the stage for all to see, the archbishop set himself up next to one of them, the older woman.


    ¡°Today we have some sinners who may not contend with some of the murderers or rapers we¡¯ve dealt with in the past, but their actions are just as displeasing to the gods. And for that very reason alone, they must perish and face judgment before the gods.¡± The archbishop turned to the woman, who finally seemed to understand there was no getting out of this. She began to cry, but Daan could tell she was trying her very best not to. It was as if she didn¡¯t want to show her fear and weakness, but it flooded out of her. ¡°This woman, Clara Fokin, has not only been found guilty of prostitution, but for the intentional murder of her unborn baby from one of her johns. As the Svya tells us, we are to remain pure and not sully ourselves for our bodies are the temples the gods created for us to take care of. We cannot simply hand our bodies to be filled with carnal desires to anybody who pleases. And our gods have given us life to cherish, regardless of the circumstances of our birth. Every child should have a chance at life, and you¡¯ve taken that life selfishly. What if the child you destroyed was one of the Chosen children meant to help regenerate the world?¡±


    ¡°P-p-please,¡± the woman whimpered. She barely moved other than her nervous shaking, keeping her head and eyes down. ¡°I-I can barely feed myself. I don¡¯t want to put a child through the same life as me, especially if it were to be a girl. Please, your holiness... surely you can-¡±


    ¡°We have four options for you, and seeing as you¡¯ve done the least harmful sin, you can choose the way you wish to do die first.¡± the archbishop¡¯s voice was ice cold, showing that the woman¡¯s pleas were fallen on deaf ears. Daan could tell that the archbishop had heard all of the excuses, all the sob stories and all of the tragedies behind the reason they committed their sins. But to the Church, sin was sin, and the only people who were going to listen to such tales would be the gods in the afterlife; the humans who filled the earth were meant to serve and keep the ways of the gods structured and continually keeping the ways of their traditions. ¡°You can choose to be hung, shot, crushed to death by boulders or be cooked alive as you sit inside this metal statue of our god, Doran, and light a massive fire underneath. The last person to have been scorched by the statue had screamed for nearly an hour before the screams were silent. The choice is yours.¡±


    ¡°Please, your Holiness...¡± tears were streaming down the woman¡¯s face as she fell to the ground and clung to the drapes of his garb. But the archbishop seemed to pay no mind to her. He simply looked over to one of his guards and signaled for him to come over with his hand, and the guard nodded as he walked towards them. The guard threw the woman off the archbishop¡¯s feet and onto her back, pulling out a pistol and firing three shots into the woman¡¯s head before she even had time to fully sit up and see who it was who had thrown her. The first shot made Daan jump with how quickly the gun had gone off without hesitation. He had thought the guard would have had least given her a chance at last words, but perhaps they considered her begging to be the last word. In any case, a bullet to the head seemed much more humane than the other choices.


    The archbishop recomposed himself as a couple of guards dragged the woman¡¯s body away, trying their best to not have the leaking blood ooze onto them. A couple other guards grabbed the young man who was slightly older than Daan, and brought him to the archbishop, who had presented him to the crowd.


    ¡°Our second sinner is Sasha Yoblonsky, a young man who thought it would be a good idea to steal from the tithing box of our church on a number of occasions, but was finally caught this previous day of rest after the church services. To commit crimes of our human nature, like lust, is one thing, but to steal from the church and to hinder the services that money goes towards? Very few things are as heinous as such sin.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯d do it again!¡± the young man shouted, both to the archbishop and to the crowd, causing the crowd to start booing against him. ¡°The Church gets so much money every week, and how many of the orphanages and homeless shelters have they helped fix up? How many-¡± the young man was met with another spear butt smashing his face. He went down to the ground from the blow, and three other guards joined in as the crowd had a mixture of boos for the announcement the young man started, and an applause for the beating he was receiving. The archbishop raised his hand high, and the guards ceased the beating immediately and the crowd¡¯s chants and noise simmered down to nothing, no words were needed to be spoken. There was a moment of absolute silence before the archbishop lowered his hand and said two words:


    ¡°Hang him.¡± he stated nonchalantly and the crowd went back into a cheering uproar. The guards were far from gentle as they picked the young man up by his hair and tattered clothes. They dragged him to a noose that was on one of the ends of the stage and draped the rope over his head and around his neck. They tightened it to a point that the man wanted to object, but he only found a punch in the stomach before they tossed his body off the stage, his hands bound, and his feet too far to reach any ground or platform. Daan was unfortunately close enough to hear the choking and gagging as the man struggled in every way to find air, but it wasn¡¯t coming.


    ¡°Next,¡± the archbishop spoke, moving on even as the young man continued to struggle and suffocate. Most of the crowd seemed too engrossed in what the archbishop had to say next rather than the man dying at the end of the stage, but Daan couldn¡¯t help but give lingering looks before it got to be too painful for him to watch. ¡°We have a young woman, Yara Bex, who was a part of our Morning Grace ladies¡¯ course to become a part of our Church Staff. But it seems sin has entered her heart and not only led her to seduce a number of our men in the Morning Glory school to sexual acts, but she has also started seeping doubt and rumors of our faith being false to the same students. A sinner who knows no better is bad enough, but for a member of our Church to fall away from faith and bring others down with her is a matter that not even the Mother¡¯s mercy would suffice.¡± the archbishop looked at Yara, and it was the first time Daan had gotten a good look at her since she took the stage.


    While the first woman who was killed showed her emotions of fear outright, fear seemed to have done the opposite thing to Yara. Her eyes were widened and her mouth hung slightly open as she took in hyperventilating breaths. The words of the archbishop didn¡¯t seem to change anything, the crowd¡¯s boos and the taunts didn¡¯t seem to faze her either. It wasn¡¯t until the archbishop put a hand on her shoulder that she seemed to snap back to reality.


    ¡°The choice is yours, dear...¡± the archbishop said plainly. ¡°Do you wish to be crushed or cooked alive?¡±


    Her mouth moved, but nobody beyond the archbishop could hear anything she was saying. But the archbishop¡¯s eyes were understanding of whatever it was Yara softly muttered, and the smirk he gave was an indication that it was the more obvious choice being chosen. Daan had noticed that the man who was being hung had finally stopped twitching and only swung softly back and forth in the gentle breeze.


    ¡°This young lady has chosen to be crushed. May her body be purged by the weight of her sins so her soul can rest easy for eternity!¡± the Archbishop announced, and the crowd applauded and cheered as he made a gesture to the guards on stage.


    One of the guards had taken Yara to the back of the center of the stage, just slightly behind the microphone the archbishop was currently using and laid her on the ground. There was no fight in her, no resistance, which made Daan feel all the worse. He couldn¡¯t describe why, but seeing people frantically freak out over meeting their death seemed¡­ natural. With Yara¡¯s empty responses, it seemed like her soul had already left her. Yara wasn¡¯t the first person to have this expression in the midst of their execution, but that didn¡¯t make it any more pleasant for Daan to have to watch. Two other guards walked to Yara¡¯s lying body with a large flat plank of wood that would be sturdy enough to hold a few thousand pounds of boulders flat and evenly, and placed it on top of Yara. Daan could see guards, workers and students come from behind the stage with boulders almost too heavy for each individual person to carry for too long struggle to walk to Yara before carelessly tossing the boulder onto the plank. The first handful of rocks that were tossed onto the plank forced a short cry out of Yara as the boulder¡¯s crushed her lungs, possibly breaking ribs. It wasn¡¯t until the sixth boulder that she gave a blood-curdling scream, making Daan realize that bones in her body must have snapped and broken under all the weight. After four more boulders, she stopped making as much noise, not because it didn¡¯t hurt anymore, but because her lungs were being crushed. A line of people kept coming back and forth from behind the stage, bringing more rocks, but the archbishop continued before Yara was fully dead, just like he did with the man hanging.


    ¡°And for our last sinner, we have a man who- I swear to you, my children- will spend the rest of his days in the nine levels of hell before we cook him alive for all that he had done.¡± the archbishop presented the older man in his forties who, without the clothes of staff of the church, looked like he could have been one of the priests with the clean shaved haircut and the matching salt-and-pepper colored facial hair as trimmed as it had been. ¡°This man had been caught doing one of the most insidious acts imaginable. Here, in our very own place of worship,¡± he gestured towards the church in background of the city. ¡°He was caught, literally red-handed, with the murder of our dearest Sister Emilia. And if that wasn¡¯t horrid enough, it has been found out recently that he had severally raped her before taking her life. And for that, he will pay...¡±


    The archbishop continued talking, and the crowd reacted accordingly, but Daan had felt a tap on his shoulder that made him turn around. Before he could see who it was tapping his shoulder, he felt a finger press against his lips, and the owner of the hand shushing him to be quiet. When he got a look at who it was, it was all he could do to not yell out any type of exclamation in surprise. In front of him, hiding their face with a hood over their head was¡­ Yara? Daan tried to ask what was going on, but she pressed her finger against his mouth more.


    ¡°Keep your mouth shut and follow me. This is super important, and you need to make sure to attract as little attention as possible. I¡¯ll explain everything on the way to your dorm.¡±


    ¡°My dorm?¡± Daan repeated, lost in all that was going on.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t I just tell you to keep your mouth shut?¡± she asked, and before Daan could say anything else, she turned around and started to leave the group.


    Not wanting to get left too far behind, Daan started to follow her through the crowd. He eyeballed the people in the crowd near him as he left, but they were all too engrossed in the execution. Half way through the crowd, Daan had accidentally made eye contact with Sister Tanya, who looked confused about where he was leaving towards at first. But he saw her eyes shift and spot Yara, and instead of being upset, confused or any normal reaction, Sister Tanya smiled and nodded and turned back towards the stage, as if giving her blessing for him to leave. Between seeing the two different Yara¡¯s existing in two places at once, and Sister Tanya¡¯s reaction, he wasn¡¯t sure which one left him feeling more confused. Once the two made it away from the crowd and found themselves in less-crowded streets, the Yara he was traveling with began speaking without looking back at him as she led him across the city.


    ¡°You¡¯re Daan Vanzyn, right? Nobody in charge was dumb enough to point me in the direction of another Daan, right?¡± she asked, and Daan couldn¡¯t help but feel her walking strides were hurried and only growing faster as she spoke.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me.¡± he said, feeling like an idiot for not having much more else to say. Then again, she didn¡¯t exactly seem to want him to be chatting too much.


    ¡°Do you understand why I¡¯m here, Daan?¡± she asked, and it took a moment for Daan to realize it wasn¡¯t a rhetorical question.


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of hard to understand anything going on right now. I mean, I just watched you get crushed nearly to death on stage, but then you¡¯re behind me, but on the stage at the same time? I mean, I really don¡¯t under-¡±


    ¡°First off, I¡¯m not Yara, or whatever her name was,¡± the leading lady had spoken, and she looked back at him for the first time since they got away from the crowd. Her clothes and the correct hue of green and hairstyle was exactly the same as Yara would have looked, but now there was an entirely different face that wasn¡¯t there a few minutes ago. Whereas Yara had wide and hopeful eyes, this new girl¡¯s eyes were more slanted and closer together, her nose not as bulbous and round as Yara¡¯s, and her mouth showed no signs of laughing very much, while Yara had deeply engraved laugh-lines. ¡°Before you go off asking any stupid questions, I¡¯m a shape-shifter. Or rather, an apprentice shape-shifter, I should say. I can change very well to look like any other person, but animals and objects are something I still need to learn.¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡± Daan said slowly, processing what he was being told. ¡°But¡­ I still don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re here for me.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you could use your brain for a moment, you might have realized that the Ceremony of the Moon is coming soon, right?¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah, it¡¯s almost everything the nuns and priests have been talking about for the last couple months. They¡¯re always talking about who they hope the Children to be chosen for Ghald will be.¡±


    ¡°And nobody has told you who it might be?¡± the girl asked, sounding more curious than pretentious for once.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like any of the students would know, and even if they did, there¡¯s so much gossip that nobody is going to believe.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not one of your fellow students, so you can trust me when I say that you¡¯re one of the Chosen Children for the ceremony.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Daan asked, perplexed. ¡°M-M-Me? Why me?¡±


    ¡°You know, most people might feel honored or some type of pride in being Chosen. So maybe you should act a little, I dunno¡­ Chosen-like?¡±


    ¡°But it doesn¡¯t make sense...¡± Daan muttered. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m the highest grade in my class. I¡¯m not more qualified than most people to do this, and I¡¯m a nobody who came from an orphanage. I was a charity case when they accepted me into the Morning Glory, why would they want a nobody like me?¡±


    ¡°Look, it¡¯s not my job to ask questions. I also wonder why they¡¯d choose a snot-nosed brat like yourself to possibly help regenerate the world, but it¡¯s what the higher-ups have been saying, and I¡¯m only doing my job getting you to the ceremony grounds alive and in one piece. Anything other than that is out of my hands and nothing I want to concern myself with.¡±


    ¡°Alright, that makes sense...¡± Daan said, skepticism still in his voice. ¡°But why did you look like Yara when you just now approached me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± she said casually. ¡°Well, when the Church got wind of the fact that you were the one they wanted to choose out of the men to send into the ceremony, they wanted to have you go through some type of test to check the purity of your heart. You know, making sure that you¡¯re going to be a well-suited candidate who¡¯s going to upkeep the laws of the gods and all that.¡±


    ¡°So, wait¡­ when Yara kissed me-¡± Daan started.


    ¡°And grabbed your dick?¡± the girl interrupted coyly, but Daan kept on with his sentence, not without blushing a bit at the mention of the memory.


    ¡°-that was you? That wasn¡¯t ever really Yara at all?¡± Daan asked, and the girl tilted her head back as she let out a hearty laugh.


    ¡°Why? Did you actually think a good-looking girl like that would be into a little boy like you?¡± the girl questioned, and her laughing tone alone was enough to put a dagger in his sensitive heart. ¡°Not in a million years!¡± she laughed harder.


    ¡°Are you usually this cruel¡­¡± Daan paused, realizing he didn¡¯t know this girls name. ¡°Whatever your name is?¡±


    ¡°My name is no concern of yours as long as we¡¯re on this journey, and trust me, kid, I¡¯m usually a lot crueler to those who aren¡¯t the appointed one who could regenerate the world. You should consider yourself lucky I¡¯m being so nice.¡±


    Daan couldn¡¯t help but scoff at her idea of what ¡°nice¡± meant. He saw they were getting close to the church, his dorm on the southern end of the property, and started to think of what he should bring, and how long his journey might have been.


    ¡°How long do you think we¡¯ll be gone for? What should I pack and bring with me?¡±


    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know, kid.¡± the fact that she referred to him as a kid while they looked the same age was something else about her that rubbed him the wrong way. ¡°All they told me is where to start to take you, that they¡¯ll give me more information throughout our journey together, and that you should bring the bare minimum and make sure nobody knows that we¡¯re leaving. I wasn¡¯t told anything else other than your name and a description that forgot to mention you¡¯re kind of a little pussy.¡± Daan was caught off-guard by the blatant insult, but before he could snap back, the girl continued talking. ¡°I think it¡¯s a good idea if maybe you stopped talking to me if you don¡¯t want me to shit-talk on you the whole way, don¡¯t you agree?¡± she stopped at the end of her sentence, which was the same moment they arrived in front of the men¡¯s dormitory. ¡°You should probably gather your things. Quickly.¡± she stressed the last word harshly.


    Daan scoffed again at her rudeness before heading inside. But once he got passed the building doors, he kept thinking about the small adventure he was about to go on and how serious it could be for the entire world. Not only was his Church, his city, or his whole nation depending on him, but also the whole world and possibly the entire future. He couldn¡¯t let anybody down, especially knowing that he didn¡¯t harness any special skills or talents that he thought would be more appropriate for someone of his newfound status.


    But as he packed a few things from his room into a backpack- just a toothbrush, a jacket, T-shirt and shorts that were his school colors and a small blanket- he couldn¡¯t get rid of the feeling that something was coming in the near future. Something bigger than he or anybody he had known could have expected. But what did he know? He was just a student who had just recently turned an adult a few months prior, an orphan who had barely known his own past, let alone his lineage. What knowledge did he possess that would make him so sure of what the future would hold?


    But on the way out of the building and back towards his shape-shifting guide, he heard the same familiar voice that had been sending him small messages for weeks now. But this time, Daan couldn¡¯t help but shiver from the chills crawling down his spine when he heard a voice of his own whisper softly, yet so well-heard: ¡°From here on out, neither you nor Ghald will ever be the same.¡±

 4.) Paiyi and Miranda

    Chapter 4


    Miranda Cortez should have listened to her grandmother. The very thought came to mind as she hid in a thicket of bushes and small trees, trying to hide herself and calm her huffing and puffing from the running she had done before she hopped into the shrubbery. She tried to slowly and quietly wipe away the sweat on her face with the collar of her tank-top before trying to wipe the sweat off her arms onto her shorts as she cuddled herself into a small ball on the dirt floor. She tried pulling her bright, burgundy-red hair into a ponytail as well as she could with hair shorter than her shoulders to prevent loose hairs from falling and leading a trail to her. Some daemons were much more prone to sniffing people out by their body odor or hair, and since she only caught a glimpse of whatever type of giant beast it was before she stepped on a twig and alerted its attention, she didn¡¯t want to risk getting caught.


    Once she got as much of the sweat off of her as she could, she tried taking slower, deeper breaths to slow down her heart rate. There were daemons who were able to hear the heartbeat of their prey, and she would rather have been safe than sorry. She didn¡¯t know if the beast had even been remotely interested in finding out where she might have gone to¡­ but between hearing of the large demon the size of a housing hut that could fit twenty people that chose to ignore an entire small group of farmers, and a smaller daemon that size of a taller man that slit the throats of more than a dozen people before it was hunted down, she didn¡¯t think it wise to take miscalculated guesses. Wouldn¡¯t the fact that you walked beyond our property without my permission be a miscalculated mistake? She could hear her grandmother¡¯s voice scolding her already, if she made it back in one piece that is.


    It took a moment for Miranda¡¯s breathing to slow down and for her to feel her perspiration subside, but she knew better than to move. According to the records her grandmother had left on one of the dozens of bookshelves she had, as well as the knowledge of the locals, some daemons were dumb enough to act on animalistic impulses without thought or reason. But at the same time, there were daemons who could be severe strategists, taking out entire groups of skilled hunters or warriors not through only strength, but with deception and craftiness that left people feeling uneasy. That was probably the scariest thing about daemons, Miranda concluded. The fact that no matter how many daemons you may face in your life, very few of them were similar in their characteristics, so it was hard to gauge what you might be in store for.


    It was a whole five heart-wrenching minutes of silence aside from the small breeze, causing leaves and branches to give a dance of unrest, and Miranda had the inclination to move and look around, but something inside her told her that was foolish thinking. Yes, a savage daemon would have been ripping trees out of place to look for her by now, but the more calculated type may have been a patient monster waiting for her to give her location away. It wasn¡¯t as if she had heard the vile creature move at all, which would be hard to miss seeing as the monster was nearly as big as half of the large house she and her grandmother lived in. From what she could see in the flash of vision she caught of the beast before turning around and running away, it seemed it had four large and well-muscled arms that were used to help walk on its fists like a gorilla, but its skin looked more reptile-like. Either way, the monster was far too big to simply walk away unnoticed. Miranda knew she would feel the shocking tremors of its footsteps in the ground by its massive weight, but she heard and felt nothing the whole time.


    Another five minutes passed before she grew suspicious of the silence going on around her. Fear that the daemon may have had some sort of light-footed ability she wasn¡¯t aware of made her start to mildly panic. What if this creature of death had made its way closer to her without her realizing? What if it was finding a way to track her down, and the fact that she was sitting in one place was only helping the monster find her? Miranda, as soon as she saw fit, slowly made way to her knees, only to stop immediately once she shuffled leaves next to her loudly. She opened her ears more, and tried to hear if anything else in the tropical forest had shifted or moved, but there was only the same consistent silence. She moved slower, doing all she could to remain silent, until her head was poking out of the bushes. She looked over in the area where the monster had been residing, and she no longer saw anything. She looked around, and saw nothing other than trees and the deepening forest to the left of her, and the forest begin to thin out and make way to the beach shores to her right. The daemon, and all signs of it ever existing, seemed to have vanished.


    Until she had felt a big drop of water on her hand. At first, she thought it may have been a drop of the usual afternoon rain, but she noticed the droplet was much bigger than a regular rain drops. And when two more of the same size dropped on the same place, Miranda¡¯s heart froze as she looked upward to see the daemon¡¯s chameleon-looking head, drool dripping from its mouth and eyes locked onto her, and its body a shimmering outline that was otherwise invisible. When she locked eyes with it, it began to hiss softly and she saw it prepare its body to move in for the kill.


    But before anything- before she could scream or run, before the monster could hop down and attack her- there was a heavy thud from up above her, and when she looked up once more, she had seen a large javelin sticking out of the daemon¡¯s shoulder as it let out a loud roar. After the roar of the monster, she could hear the triumphant tribal war-cry of the local village of Pente her and her grandmother lived right outside of. A dozen men dressed in only boiled leather armor and sandals came charging from the beach end of the jungle and towards Miranda, who was frozen by the action until one of them called her name and yelled at her to start running. It took a second javelin to the beast and it¡¯s cry of pain to snap Miranda out of it and get to her feet.


    The distance between her and the men from the tribe had only been a short thirty feet or so, but the run from danger into safety seemed to be eternal. Her back was fully turned on the now-rampaging and upset daemon who already had eyes on her to eat, but she dared not look back at the chance of slowing herself down. She sprinted as fast as she could, eyes kept on the tribe, watching as two or three of them had their eyes locked on the daemon and arms positioned to launch more javelins if needed. She didn¡¯t look anywhere else until she ran and dove into the arms of one of the men, relief filling her as the man¡¯s arms roped around her in safety, pulling her back towards the rear-end of the group.


    The daemon dropped from the trees, fully exposing its body, and let out a roar that could have been heard for miles. But the tribe responded in kind with two more javelins into the monster¡¯s torso and a choir of their own roars and battle-cries. The daemon, appearing not sure whether to fight or flee, pounded a couple of its fists on the ground and gave another roar, attempting to appear ferocious. Two more javelins were tossed, but missed, and the tribe growled back in the same type of ferocity. The daemon eyed the number of people around and seemed to slowly dismiss the possibility of fighting and turned around to slowly escape at first and then falling into a full sprint into the forest when it knew the tribe wasn¡¯t going to follow. The group of men cheered and howled at the monster¡¯s weak surrender and congratulated each other on a bloodless battle with a daemon.


    ¡°Miranda,¡± Oscar, the man who lead the village¡¯s warrior and scout division, and the man who caught her as she ran to the group, looked at her with concern, eyeing her body to see if there were any injuries. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Oscar,¡± she said, winded. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins and her heart was beating like a hammer. ¡°Thank you, guys. I definitely don¡¯t know what I would have done if you didn¡¯t show up.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing here all by yourself?¡± another one of the huntsmen questioned. ¡°Does your grandmother know that you were out here?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh...¡± was all Miranda could manage to say slowly and not sure how to respond without getting scolded, but the men already knew the answer she hid so poorly. The entire group of men sighed in either frustration or disappointment.


    ¡°Really, Miranda? You know your grandmother is the smartest woman in all the villages near us for the next fifty miles, maybe all of Paiyi, but you never seem to listen to her. Why do you go in search for danger so often?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t look for danger,¡± she objected. ¡°I simply want to go out and see the world for myself. All I ever get to see is the inside of my house, and only once a month do me and grandma head to the village to see if you guys need any help with repairs or medicine or anything. Do you think I want to be cooped up in a house for most of my life?¡±


    ¡°Better to be cooped up and alive then curious and dead.¡± another one of the huntsmen lectured.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Oscar agreed. ¡°I believe you know the words, ¡®Curiosity killed the cat?¡¯¡± he asked rhetorically.


    ¡°Yes, I know the words,¡± Miranda said before breaking out into a grin. ¡°But what everybody seems to forget is that there¡¯s a second part of the saying. ¡®Curiosity killed the cat, but getting the answers brought it back.¡¯ So...¡± Miranda gave a shrug and a sheepish smile that would extinguish the shame she felt from the huntsmen for not listening to her grandmother. Most of the men simply sighed at her thick-headed ways of never listening to anyone before saying they should all return back to home. The men agreed to head back to the village while Oscar offered to walk Miranda back to her home, as long as they walked along the beach. Even though there had been daemons found on the beaches and in the shallow waters before, it seemed a majority of them had come from the jungles and forests all over Paiyi, and their numbers grew vastly the more secluded the areas of the forests had been.


    Miranda had given her goodbyes to the rest of the squad of hunters, and they all requested they send their regards to her grandmother. After they started to part ways, Miranda couldn¡¯t help but sigh and give a sheepish look at Oscar.


    ¡°You guys probably think it¡¯s pretty stupid that I went into the forest, huh?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®stupid¡¯...¡± Oscar said with a small smile on his face as he looked for a less insulting description. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not the wisest of decisions you¡¯ve ever made, but you¡¯re Eve¡¯s granddaughter, which means you have somewhat of a decent head on your shoulders. You know more about daemons more than any other woman I¡¯ve met, besides your grandmother. You¡¯re probably also the person who¡¯s seen more of them in person and lived to tell about it. We¡¯ve been saving your skin from daemons for years, yet that doesn¡¯t seem to stop you. There¡¯s a type of bravery in searching for answers that you and your grandmother share, and I respect that.¡±


    The compliment made Miranda blush a little. She had known how much all of the villagers revered her grandmother, and being compared to her by them was possibly one of the highest compliments they could ever give. But in all of her experiences with the people of the village and Miranda and her grandmother, she had to say it was a double-edge sword. On one hand, her and her grandmother were seen as types of saviors who provided plenty of services and materials that helped the village as much as they could. Her grandmother was originally a well-respected doctor and scientist in Ryn several decades ago, so she had the knowledge to give the people of Paiyi work around whatever their anti-technology and ascetical mentality as a nation had been. Ever since Adriel had nearly wiped the rest of the world out with the people of Paiyi thousands of years ago, they had made sure to keep their lives humble and simple, only becoming farmers, miners, hunters and gatherers to make and gather materials to house themselves, and all excess things they didn¡¯t use were delivered to other nations to help them build their own cities. Miranda¡¯s grandmother had been wise enough to not detour them from their philosophy, but was able to offer guidance in bettering their lives with the tools they allowed themselves to have.


    But because she was the granddaughter of Eve, the great scientific mind who was born and raised in Ryn, the villagers had been friendly, yet Miranda could tell there was a distance between her and them. They were always kind and giving, always smiling and waving and inviting them to whatever local feasts they would put on, almost making them feel like they were a part of their group. But in the last ten years, ever since she was twelve and developing into a woman, it seemed like whenever she started to have a crush on any of the boys in the village, they would avoid her. At first, she thought it was all in her head, that she was imagining and exaggerating things much like young teens do. And then after six or seven boys doing the same thing back-to-back, she started to think that perhaps she was unattractive, and that was a feeling that held as truth for years.


    But as she grew older, and her body started to fill out in all the right areas, and she started to find a fashion that both suited her sense of style, as well as compliment her curves, she started noticing the boys would catch secondary glances her way, but pretend they weren¡¯t looking whenever Miranda looked back in their general direction. The older she got, the more and more Miranda had started to believe she was not only attractive, but beautiful even.


    She started to compare her looks to others around her or what people had spoken about when the mentioned ¡°beauty¡±. She had heard some of the drunken village gossip over campfires or a feast, men being men and talking about women in the village and their bodies in loud whispers they thought were quiet enough to not be heard. She had read romance novels and the description of the maidens that wooed men in the stories, and she had seen old fashion magazines her grandmother brought back from Ryn, and Miranda was noticing that these women didn¡¯t have much more than her, and were considered to be the idols of beauty.


    She didn¡¯t understand what it was. She knew her breasts were full and perky enough, but not overly ample or disproportionate to her body size. Her backside was taut and tight, yet still had a firm roundness that she had thought seemed inviting when she studied herself in the mirror. Her hair wasn¡¯t nearly as long as most of the women in the village, which was a cultural sense of attraction, but she had heard and seen plenty of men talk and ogle over woman who had shorter hair like her, and some of them even had the same shade of color. She had been nice and friendly, but not naively and gullible to fall for some of the jokes and tales the men liked to spread, and she always stood her ground if somebody had been mean or aimed to insult her for whatever reason. All in all, she thought she was a pretty good candidate for seduction, and yet nobody seemed to show interest in her outside of a platonic fashion, or at least nobody wouldn¡¯t try to show it.


    Miranda peeked at Oscar while he was looking off into the ocean, lost in thought. He was ten years her elder, but he was built broad and fit, his shoulders looking like large melons. The leather armor that covered him seemed to hug his body tightly, and not because the armor was small on a normal sized man. She peeked at the outline of his manhood, and as far as she could tell, it hung and swung as he moved more than most of the men she had paid attention to in the village. He had long, bright-red hair that was tied into a long ponytail to keep it out from his face, a long scar running over his left eye, and several more scars dressed his body from head to toe. Oscar was the type of hero that she read about in those romance novellas that saved the maiden and made love to her. And although Oscar wasn¡¯t her favorite person to have long and meaningful talks with, the thought of him picking her up and throwing her in a bed of flowers and having his way with her was a fantasy that she was trying to stop herself from getting lost in.


    As much as Miranda loved to learn, as many books and charts and graphs she had studied and consumed, as knowledgeable as she may have been, it seemed that both love and sex were two things she knew she couldn¡¯t fully understand, and that made her want it all the more. Through all the romance books and philosophy, she had read on what love could be, there wasn¡¯t a single opinion she could latch onto that made full sense to her. Some writers wrote as if love were to be a series of sexual escapades with a person you already enjoyed spending your time with. Some writers made it seem as if sex was only the icing on the cake, and having deep meaning talks and connecting on a special level had been what love was about. But she had made plenty of friends with whom she had a special connection with and had conversations that went from the beginning of an evening feast all the way until dawn broke. Yet, she didn¡¯t think it was the same feeling as the books she read. Perhaps there was something about this whole ¡°sex¡± thing that tied it all together? But it wasn¡¯t like the men in the villages near her would give her a chance to find out for herself. She felt like she had to tie somebody down and force themselves into her for her to-


    ¡°You¡¯re awfully quiet over there.¡± Oscar said after a couple minutes of them walking. ¡°What are you thinking about.¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± she blurted out, blushing and trying to cover up the perverted thoughts that were running through her mind. She meant to look at him, but her eyes seemed to stumble, because she ended up looking directly at his manhood, which forced her to look away from him, her face as red as a beet. He looked at her in mild confusion, but he didn¡¯t press further on the matter, something she was thankful for.


    The two walked along the beach until the local lighthouse was within view a dozen miles along the coast, a landmark that helped the locals know they were close to home. The people of Paiyi had learned that it was wise to set up villages between the beaches and forests. Go too far onto the beach and your village risked being taken over by storms, tides, and water-based daemons, which was the heaviest fear. But if you went too far into the forest, it was easy to get lost and even easier to be tracked and taken down by one of the many daemons that lived and hid away in the forest. Villages wanted to be in enough shrubbery to help cover their village from eyes that were far away, and close enough to the beach to escape and fight foes in an area where there was nowhere to hide. Every village she ever visited with her grandmother while she dropped off medicine had been placed in the same distance away from the shores and the depths of the forest.


    Miranda and Oscar walked away from the warm, white sands of the beach and onto the grass that lead them into a thicket of tree branches, leaves, and bushes. After making their way through all the plants, they finally found a web of subtle trails hiding in the tall grass, taking a true native to the area to know which path lead where. They found the familiar one that lead towards both her home and the villages and took it once they searched behind them and made sure they weren¡¯t being tracked or followed. Miranda had thought of all the times she had gotten lost by following the wrong trail, thinking it would take her back home. One time she ended up in a village several miles away from the nearest village she could recognize. Another time it led her to the mouth of a rocky cave that seemed to dive downward into the ground, frigid cold air flowing from the depths. The dark and the cold were enough to give her the sense that going in alone was more than a bad idea.


    It took nearly ten minutes before Miranda recognized the outskirts of the Pente, the village Oscar and the other huntsmen were from. But the outskirts of the village were all she was going to see; her own home had been a sharp turn away from the village and uphill one of the smaller hills that morphed into mountains half a day¡¯s travel on horseback. The hill she looked on had been tucked away behind a family of trees so that those who may have been looking for their house wouldn¡¯t find it until they were practically on her property. But the view of her home had overlooked not only Pente, but two other nearby villages as well as a face-front view of the crystal blue waters of the ocean. She was blessed with having the view of the sunrise to her left in the early mornings, and the sunset to her right when the rest of the village had started to head inside after finishing their daily chores and work.


    It wasn¡¯t until Oscar and Miranda passed away from Pente and started making way up the hill she lived on that made her realize how far away she had traveled from home by accident. She had only meant to go for a small ten-minute walk, maybe look around and soak in the nature that was around her, and head back. But, as much to her grandmother¡¯s dismay, Miranda¡¯s curiosity got the best of her, which is almost always did. There was something that was incredibly irritating that itched at the back of her mind whenever she grew curious about something and didn¡¯t look into it. And that annoying itch wouldn¡¯t go away for days, even weeks sometimes, before she finally gave in and went to search for answers. Curiosities that ranged from, ¡°How many grapes can I fit into my mouth at once¡± type of questions, to, ¡°What is the weirdest looking daemon that roams around our villages?¡± And even though some of the curiosities that inquired to her were more than dangerous, she felt that lacking an answer was just as harmful, but more in the way of the mind and spirit than the body. Her grandmother who was used to being a scientist searching for facts over opinions, she couldn¡¯t argue with the inexplicable need to look into something and get answers.


    The two climbed the hill, but Oscar stopped the moment they reached the top and reached the series of trees that surrounded the actually building. Miranda walked a little closer to her house before she realized he had stopped walking. She turned around, and saw him standing as if there were an invisible barrier separating them.


    ¡°Are you guys really that scared of my house?¡± she teased, giving him a wry grin.


    ¡°You know it¡¯s not fear that keeps us away from your house. Your grandmother is allowed to use the tools and machines from her country in any fashion she wants as long as she doesn¡¯t interfere with our rules of the land banishing use of advanced technology or sciences beyond what is useful. And we are more than welcome to aid you guys and welcome you into our village with open arms, so long as you are respectful of our rules, which you have been.¡± Oscar cracked a smile. ¡°See, unlike you, I can let go of certain curiosities where I know it¡¯s best to leave things be.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh, how boring your life must be.¡± Miranda teased again as Oscar turned to walk back down the hill, but he turned his head over his shoulder before he was out of view.


    ¡°So boring, it almost makes staying alive seem like it¡¯s worth it.¡± he winked and disappeared beyond leaves and bushes that filled the pathway to her home.


    Miranda smiled at Oscar¡¯s last comment before turning around and taking in the view of her home. During this time of day when the sun begins to set and give the world a soft, orange hue. The small trees and tall hordes of bamboo that surrounded her house danced in the soft breeze, and the small garden that was peeking out from around her adobe-made home. The red clay material that covered her house made it look like a larger version of the huts that people lived in in the villages, but she knew that the actual build and mold of the house was a lot more modern and ventilated better. There had been an actual sturdy roof underneath all of the hay and other straw-like material that had covered the top. And while most of the houses in the village housed three or four people, and the largest of them holding up to ten people, her home was at least twice the size of the largest hut in any of the near-by villages, and that wasn¡¯t counting the underground basement that her grandmother turned into a laboratory, the lab itself was as big and wide as the house, only it was three stories underground. As much as Miranda could guess what the villagers had imagined their home to look like, she knew they had no idea about the basement level of the house. She sometimes wondered what they would think about the idea of having rooms underground that were still safe, even without windows.


    She headed inside of the house after punching in a code into an alarm system next to the front door. ¡°1-3-5-7-9¡± was not only easier to remember with it being all of the prime numbers, but it also made the shape of an ¡°Z¡± on the keypad. She heard the alarm pad peep, and the door unlocked as she let herself in and closed the door behind her. She scanned the large lobby that turned into a living room that connected to a kitchen and a hallway that lead to five other bedrooms, most of the interior was polished oak and pine. All of the floors, ceiling, walls and furniture that been a series of different shades of brown, tan, and gray. Although the bedrooms and laboratory had been furnished differently with different cloths, dyed materials and occasional metals, it seemed the areas where guest may come and be welcomed had been furnished with the most natural of substances to appease the Paiyian law. Something Miranda always thought was weird since they almost never had visitors. Miranda could count the number of people who had stepped through the front door on both of her hands with a few fingers to spare in the time she spent living here.


    ¡°Grandma, I¡¯m home!¡± she called out, not exactly sure where her grandmother may have been. She waited for a response, and continued listening to the silence before she spoke again. ¡°Grandma?¡± she called out again, this time moving to see where she might have been. She had checked the kitchen, which had been dressed with white-colored wooden cabinets and charcoal granite counter tops, a large stove and oven, and an even larger stainless-steel refrigerator, but no grandma. She had peered in all five of the bedrooms, including her own because her grandma could be a bit nosy and try to learn about the things in life Miranda may have kept secret in fear of it being too personal or embarrassing. But this time, she didn¡¯t find her in any of the rooms, and even the bathroom wasn¡¯t occupied. That could only mean one other place she could be: her lab.


    Miranda walked toward one of the bookshelves that sat in the center of the living room wall, in between windows that let the sun in during sunset. She picked up a large green book that was supposed to be an entire encyclopedia on the biology and various families of mushrooms, but when Miranda skipped to the middle of the book, there was a square hole engraved in the pages, and another keypad. Miranda punched in the numbers ¡°4-5-6-2-8-0¡±, numbers she knew her grandmother had chosen on purpose, but she didn¡¯t know the story behind them. Her grandma was a woman shrouded in mystery, and all of Miranda¡¯s life, it seemed like she never thought to try to act differently.


    Once the numbers were pushed in, she closed the book and put it back in place quickly; if she didn¡¯t, the door wouldn¡¯t unlock or open. Her grandmother thought having just digits as a password was too easy, and figured she needed to through in some kind of hitch in the plans of anybody who may have tried breaking into the lab. It was something her grandmother always seemed to be worry about, but based off the reactions of the villager and Miranda¡¯s home, and how much they avoided it like a plague, she couldn¡¯t imagine who in the world would try to break into their home, let alone the lab.


    The bookshelf pushed itself back into the wall a couple of feet before sliding upward into the ceiling, revealing a thick, iron, bullet-proof door, two feet thick of pure steel. That was something else Miranda didn¡¯t understand about the lab: if anybody from Paiyi was going to try and break into the lab by force, Miranda didn¡¯t see why it was necessary to have such a large and obnoxious door when all of the greatest and strongest warriors in the land used spears, clubs, bows and arrows, dull swords, and plenty of useless weapons against a door so large and secure. It was almost as if her grandmother was anticipating somebody from beyond Paiyi to break in or something. Miranda waited for the door to unlock itself and slowly swing open as part of the process to get in.


    When she walked inside, there was a small hallway filled with darkness and a small light at the end of it. She walked confidently through the dark, remembering the years as a young girl being scared and alone in the middle of the night and having to find her grandmother working in her lab. She used to be so frightened of the unknown that laid in the dark, and there were a few times her grandmother found her cowering in the fetal position against the wall, in between the main door and the true entrance to the lab. It wasn¡¯t even thirty feet long and a straight shot from point A to B, a fact that made Miranda laugh at her younger self for being so frightened over such a small feat. And she always had the same sense of small relief whenever she did make it into the light at the end of the tunnel, even now.


    She looked down at what she could of the lab. Giant tubes and pipes had covered the ceiling and upper walls, Miranda unsure if they were used to bring in clean, breathable air or to send out potential toxins her grandmother would make every so often for her studies. There was a three-story descent from the top entrance to the ground floor of the lab, each story was built with metal scaffolding that felt like a fire escape which lead to a door, and each door lead to an identical looking hallway that held three or four different rooms. One room was filled with plants and spices from all over the world. One room held giant pods filled with some type of preservation liquid that was used for holding and preserving animals, and even a couple of small daemons after they were killed off. Some of the rooms were currently empty, but she was sure her grandmother would find a way to fill them up sooner rather than later.


    Her grandmother was a constantly busy woman. So much so, that Miranda often wondered what it was that her grandmother might have been working toward. Every worker had a goal, and her grandmother¡¯s goal was never mentioned or talked about, but she worked endless hours and rarely took a day off. Miranda for the longest time assumed her grandmother simply loved educating herself and learning. But she eventually learned that her grandmother wouldn¡¯t do anything unless there was a very big reward at the end of it.


    When she looked down from the top part of the metal stairs, she could see her grandmother working on the ground floor, her eye and ear protectors were currently on. Miranda wondered if it was for whatever work she was currently doing, or if the ear protectors were to cancel any sound Miranda might bring in with her if she were to visit. If there was one thing her grandmother hated more than anything- more than murder of innocent children and people, more than mass rapes found in war, more than uneducated and greedy idiots ruling over governments- it was being in the middle of an equation or important thought process in her head and being disturbed or distracted and forgetting what she was thinking of. More than a few times had Miranda been the one to accidentally catch her grandmother¡¯s attention before she had written down any notes, and that she started smashing empty beakers and screaming at the top of her lungs in frustration from losing important information. Miranda and her grandmother learned it was best if Miranda was seen first, and her grandmother would remove her headphones to talk when she was at a good mental space to take a break and resume work later.


    Miranda climbed down the small mountain of stairs and made her way in front of her grandmother when she got to the ground floor. Her grandmother¡¯s eyes shifted upward when she sensed Miranda coming into her frame of view, but quickly went back down to a notepad she was scribbling in when she saw that it was Miranda standing in front of her, holding out a one finger for a moment to indicate that Miranda only had to wait a little while before it was fine to talk. Her grandmother had been a short woman, far shorter than any grown person she had ever seen who wasn¡¯t a dwarf, but she didn¡¯t lack the typical physical symmetry that dwarfs seemed to share in common. She looked like a regular woman, only she stood right below Miranda¡¯s chest. She had long silver hair that she almost always tied into a tight bun that sat on top of her head, and she wore her favorite red lab coat. It wasn¡¯t until Miranda saw an older photo of her grandmother when she was only a few years older than herself that Miranda learned she had used to be as tall as Miranda, but also always had silver hair, not just from old age. When she asked why her grandmother had shrunk in size by such an extravagant amount, her grandmother would simply shrug and say nothing more than, ¡°Freak accident.¡±


    Miranda watched as her grandmother wrote down notes, looked into a microscope and jotted down more things in her notepad. She repeated the process a handful of times before she slowly took off her headphones with a hefty sigh and rolled her neck and shoulders to relieve tension from standing and bending over so long. When she finished stretching out the sore spots of her neck, she looked at Miranda wryly.


    ¡°You¡¯re still alive, I see.¡± her grandmother said, dryly half-joking.


    ¡°So kind of you to be worried.¡± Miranda playfully shot back.


    ¡°Well, when I went upstairs to find an empty house, I thought maybe you went to go bother some of the villagers like I¡¯ve told you not to do without asking me first. But when Oscar¡¯s sister, Isabel, had to come and knock on my door- and you know how much they hate getting close to the house- she said she saw you go into the forest and nobody had seen you for a while¡­ something I¡¯ve stressed even harder for you not to do because of daemons and poisonous plants all over. So, I asked her to ask her brother to look for you, and from what I can smell...¡± her grandmother stepped closer and took a big whiff of Miranda. ¡°It seems like you got drooled on by one of those reptilian-based daemons that scour the jungles around here.¡±


    ¡°You can tell all that just from a smell?¡± Miranda didn¡¯t hide her surprise, and took a sniff at herself. ¡°How can you smell anything? I don¡¯t smell anything but dirt and the sea water.¡±


    ¡°A trained nose, my dear.¡± was all she said with a shrug. And as if there was nothing more to discuss her grandmother started to head towards the stairs, heading back to the surface level of the house. ¡°And with this trained nose, I know that you need to shower.¡± Miranda ignored the last part of her grandmother¡¯s statement.


    ¡°You know, as somebody who made the rules that were put in place to save my life, you don¡¯t seem all that worried that I was close enough to get drooled on by one of those monsters.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because everything worked out in the end, didn¡¯t it? Why would I expend my energy worrying about whether or not you¡¯re alive when I can wait for the end results? Besides, I¡¯ve told you for years and years, don¡¯t go out in the forest alone, you know what kind of monsters are out there. So, if you did get killed by those awful beasts, it would be your own fault for not listening to me, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a very grandmotherly way of looking at things...¡± Miranda said sarcastically. ¡°I love you too.¡±


    ¡°You know I have too much on my plate to worry about anything other than what I can actually focus on in the moment. If somebody says you went missing, I¡¯ll worry in a day or two if you can¡¯t be found, because you¡¯ve been out for more than a day by yourself before. Foolishly, I might add... but you always manage to take care of yourself, or have some of the villager do it for you like today.¡±


    ¡°So, that¡¯s it then?¡± Miranda questioned. ¡°No further ridicule or scolding from you?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s time I¡¯s realized that you¡¯re a fully-grown woman at the age of 22, and perhaps I should treat you like it. Hell, I graduated top of my class of college at your age.¡±


    ¡°So, does that mean you think I¡¯m old enough to know exactly what happened to my parents?¡± Miranda chose her words and tone carefully.


    Her grandmother froze at the question, and hesitated before looking at Miranda with cold and hard eyes. The harshness in her grandmother¡¯s gaze had nothing to do with Miranda and everything to do with the memories tied to whatever accident had taken the lives of Miranda¡¯s parents and left her in her grandmother¡¯s care. Growing up, her grandmother had always scolded her for asking, or at the very least, mentioned it was a terrible accident while ranting and raving about how that¡¯s an inappropriate topic to discuss with a child. It seemed to be one of the only things that could draw her usually care-free and stoic grandmother into a fit of rage which she usually apologized immediately afterwards.


    ¡°I suppose you are finally old enough to know what happened¡­¡± her grandmother let out a heavy sigh after a lot of consideration. Miranda almost couldn¡¯t believe the words she was hearing. The last time she had brought up this conversation wasn¡¯t even six months ago, and her grandmother seemed to be even more upset and fussier about the conversation than ever before. To see her be so calm and poised at the mention of her parent¡¯s death was crazy enough by itself, but for her to professionally tell her she was finally old enough to hear the news was other-worldly. ¡°You are old enough, but today is not the day that you hear of this tale.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Miranda shrieked in such a high pitch her grandmother raised an eye brow that questioned whether all the noise was necessary to what was said. ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me for years and years that I don¡¯t get to find out why my parents were killed, and you-¡±


    ¡°Killed? Who told you your parents were killed?¡± her grandmother¡¯s voice had an edge to it, cold and icy, which for some reason filled Miranda with more fear for her than when she was raging and smashing things. ¡°I¡¯ve only told you they were in an accident.¡±


    ¡°But, Grandma, you¡¯ve told me about some of the goriest and bloodiest things you¡¯ve seen daemons do to humans, and told these stories to me ever since I was a little girl. To show me the dangers of these daemons, remember? What else am I supposed to think when you¡¯re so carefree telling me of these demonic nightmares but explode at the mere mention of how my parents have died?¡±


    For the first time in Miranda¡¯s life, her grandmother looked at a loss for words. It was clear in her eyes that some of what Miranda was saying was true, and she couldn¡¯t lie to her granddaughter about it. But she wasn¡¯t about to just tell the entire story right now either.


    ¡°Listen, I understand that you think finding out about your parents is important, but you don¡¯t understand the timeline you¡¯re involved in yet.¡±


    ¡°¡®Timeline I¡¯m involved in¡¯? What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that WHOEVER IS IN MY HOUSE CAN COME OUT NOW!¡± her grandmother shouted as if trying to shout to somebody who may have been somewhere in her huge lab. There had been a moment of silence where he grandmother had scanned around to see if anybody else was coming out like she commanded, her ears perked for the sounds of anyone walking. ¡°Please stop wasting all our times and come out now! I¡¯ve been expecting you all afternoon, but my ditz of a granddaughter went out for a small brush with death! She¡¯s here now and we can commence the ceremony!¡±


    ¡°¡®Commence the ceremony?¡¯ What the hell does that mean?¡± Miranda didn¡¯t like the fact that her grandmother was shouting at nobodies, and her phrasing while speaking to the empty air that couldn¡¯t help but remind Miranda of demonic cults and the fact that talked to spirits and demons nobody could see.


    Her grandmother didn¡¯t respond, but only kept waiting for somebody else to respond to her announcement. When a moment passed and nobody seemed to be there, her grandmother simply sighed, shook her head, and started heading towards the top of the stairs towards the door that lead back to the regular potion of the house. Miranda followed her, repeating the same questions her grandmother seemed to ignore. On the way back towards the surface level of the house from the lab floor, her grandmother double checked every possible room, door and lock between her home and her lab, as if she were expecting somebody to try to break in. When the two of them made it to the living room and the secret lab door hiding behind the bookcase was closed and sealed, Miranda looked at her grandmother who looked around the house in the same way she looked around her lab.


    ¡°Grandma, what are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°Shh.¡± she quickly silenced Miranda and continued to look around the house slowly, using her ears just as much as she used her eyes. She scanned corners and in closets that neither Miranda or her grandmother ever used very often. After the fifth or sixth spot of the house, Miranda thought her grandmother was playing a very odd game of hide-and-seek, but she didn¡¯t know anybody who would feel comfortable coming into the house like this. After a couple more spots, including Miranda¡¯s room, her grandmother gave a frustrated sigh and told Miranda to follow her.


    The two stepped outside into the garden, and her grandmother made sure to lock the door behind them and check the other doors to make sure they were secure. Once the last door was checked and locked, her grandmother simply looked out at the ocean-view of their home, staring into the horizon just as the sun started to kiss the waters at the edge of the world.


    ¡°Grandma, what are you doing?¡± Miranda couldn¡¯t help but give a nervous laugh at her grandmother¡¯s odd and random behavior. Part of Miranda was starting to wonder if she was getting too old and starting to go senile, something she never had to consider before.


    ¡°If I could get five minutes without you asking me the same questions, maybe you¡¯ll get your answers.¡± her grandmother snapped gently. Miranda decided to shut her mouth and be a silent observer.


    Her grandmother seemed to just stare out at the ocean waters for a few moments before moving to another side of the house, and stood still and stared out into the horizon once more. She said nothing and did almost just as little other than occasionally looking around. If Miranda didn¡¯t know any better, it seemed like her grandmother simply wanted to come out and enjoy nature. But Miranda knew her grandmother, and she knew the fierce look of determination in her eyes when she saw it, and she knew it wasn¡¯t for no reason. A few moments later, and grandmother walked to another part of their property, and began to look around again.


    ¡°There. In the trees. This is where your love-life begins...¡± a voice whispered softly into Miranda¡¯s ear, and when she turned around to see where the voice belonged to, there was nobody there. A part of her thought that maybe she was going crazy herself, until she looked into one of the trees that stood just on the edge of their garden. She wouldn¡¯t have seen it herself if she didn¡¯t have that voice telling her to look in the trees, but there was a person hiding behind a thicket of leaves.


    ¡°Ummm, grandma¡­? Were you expecting visitors today or something?¡± Miranda asked nervously, and her grandmother¡¯s attention snapped right to her when she spoke.


    ¡°Why, where do you see someone?¡± her grandmother asked urgently.


    ¡°There¡­ in the tree, do you see-¡±


    Without hesitation, Miranda¡¯s grandmother threw a small steel-looking ball at the tree. The moment the ball contacted the tree, a large burst of electricity exploded around the tree, zapping and frying anything that wasn¡¯t a sturdy tree branch. Most of the leaves skipped the stages of burning and turned straight into ashes. Miranda stared at the ashy mess that used to be a beautiful tree just seconds before, but her grandmother quickly turned around, pulling a small handgun from one of her lab coat pockets, and pointed it at a man with deep maroon hair and one white streak of hair that hung in front of his face longer than the rest of his bangs. While his hair face seemed to be somewhat close to those who lived on Paiyi, the fancy suit and shoes he wore didn¡¯t match anything that had ever existed in Paiyi at all. When grandmother had pointed the gun only inches away from the man¡¯s face, he simply smirked casually, as if the gun showed no threat at all.


    ¡°So, you must be the great Lady Eve, I¡¯ve heard so much about.¡± the man spoke with a heavy air of coolness, his hands retreating casually into his pockets. He looked at the charred tree and back at the little old lady. ¡°You¡¯re quite the firecracker, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re the one responsible for getting my granddaughter to the ceremony, are you?¡± her grandmother didn¡¯t move the gun at all, which only made the man grin after a while. ¡°You people in the central government sure are getting sloppy with your espionage work.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re thinking of the Phantoms branch division of the central government, I¡¯m simply an office worker working as a messenger for now. Trust me, if I were a Phantom, your granddaughter wouldn¡¯t have made it inside without me taking her to the ceremony without so much a goodbye.¡±


    ¡°So, you just so happen to have knowledge of combat tactic and move around like a ninja and it¡¯s not part of your job?¡± grandmother shook her head with a small smile as she finally lowered her weapon.


    ¡°What can I say?¡± the man gave a playful shrug. ¡°I¡¯m somewhat of an overachiever. Plus, you never know what¡¯s lurking around the woods of Paiyi these days, am I right?¡± the man¡¯s eyes finally turned towards Miranda as he gave a flirtatious wink. Miranda¡¯s heart skipped a beat and she felt herself blush. This was the first time anybody had ever openly looked at her like that. As much as she enjoyed the attention, she didn¡¯t know how she felt about how this man¡¯s eyes seemed to scan her entire body, undressing her with his eyes, all while in front of her grandmother.


    ¡°Wha¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± Miranda was finally able to ask. ¡°What ceremony? What are you guys talking about?¡±


    ¡°Do you know anything about the Ceremony of the Moon?¡± he asked her.


    ¡°Yeah, I mean, I think everybody knows about the-¡±


    ¡°Then that will save a lot of time on explaining. All that you need to know is that you¡¯re one of the chosen, we have one month to get to the center island of the world, and we have to leave now before anybody catches wind that you¡¯re gone. Got that?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Am I able to grab a couple of things first?¡± she asked without hesitation, which caught the man and her grandmother off guard. They both nodded simultaneously, and Miranda dashed inside to find a small backpack and clothes to quickly fill it with. Yet despite what the man and her grandmother might have thought, she wasn¡¯t very excited about being a part of the Ceremony, not really. Nor was she excited to be leaving on a random journey to see the world. It wasn¡¯t even the attractive man who was giving her the first amount of sexualized attention she had ever received. The thing was one sentence by the same voice that seemed to fill her head, saying, ¡°This is the journey you will find true love, don¡¯t be scared of this marriage.¡±

 5.)Central Government and the Phantoms

    Chapter 5


    Claire Altaluna had cleared the small patch of grassy earth on top of the tree and bush infested cliff-side before she laid down on her stomach, propped up on her elbow as she slithered her arms around her sniper rifle and looked through the sniper scope. She made sure she was comfortable enough to make the quickest and slightest change in posture and direction of her gun before fully committing to lying down. She inspected her weapon for the fourth time now, making sure everything was put back together perfectly after her most recent cleaning. She didn¡¯t want a repeat of her third mission when her weapon jammed and she barely succeeded the mission with a great struggle off improvised stealth and, at some points, pure aggression.


    She smoothed her tan-colored camouflage cloak with a head piece that covered everything but her shimmering baby blue eyes. She had managed to bundle her honey-golden blond hair into the head piece, something she was grateful for. In all her life, she had only met perhaps five or six other individuals that had her colored hair and anybody else who had met her for the first time seemed to have their eyes on her head, some people better at hiding their glances than others. She adjusted her scope to focus at the distance she had assumed she would be taking fire, if everything had gone according to plan.


    When she looked through her scope again, she had to scan the surrounding land before her eyes fell on the group responsible for her mission in the first place. A group of men in the same tan-colored cloaks and hoods, which were most likely worn to protect themselves from the soul-sucking heat of the sun in the Paiyian desert they had come from not even two days ago. The surrounding area was a mix of desert rocks and occasional sand pits that came from the north clashing against the deep green jungles that lied several miles south, so it wasn¡¯t too out of place for the men to be wearing such cloaks.


    She watched as the group voicelessly spoke and gestured to each other, and should couldn¡¯t tell from the lack of facial expressions if they were angry or annoyed with another, or if they generally spoke with such large hand gestures. It was eight men, traveling with camels and one wagon that hovered rather than carried on wheels. Rynian wagons coming from the center of a Paiyian desert? Claire thought. I¡¯m guessing nobody told them that that¡¯s extremely suspicious. Don¡¯t they know the Paiyian code of restricted technology?


    She aimed her scope at the heads of every individual, watching them more than preparing to take fire, but she felt confident that she could securely take a one-shot-kill at any moment¡¯s notice. But unless things went south and called for improvised action, she was going to wait for the signal. By the time she scanned the all the men in the group a third time, she was playfully seeing how fast she could switch from one man¡¯s head to another while looking through her scope, pretending to take fire at a rapid pace on the unsuspecting group below.


    ¡°You know, if you keep waving your gun around like that, people may take notice to you.¡± she heard a voice warn her from the ear piece that sat in her ear. She felt a small wave of embarrassment wash over her as she stopped mid-swing. She sometimes forgot how sharp her partner¡¯s eyes could be.


    ¡°But Sage, I¡¯m booored.¡± she drew the last word out with the rest of her breath in exaggerated complaint. She could hear him scoff through the headset and could already picture him shaking his head.


    ¡°In the last two years that we¡¯ve worked together, when have you not been bored?¡± Sage Darkwood asked her.


    ¡°When we¡¯re doing something that¡¯s actually important. Or at least a little bit of action. I mean, we¡¯re Phantoms; we¡¯ve been trained to do more than take a few head shots at some unsuspecting nobodies at the end of a dessert in bumfuck nowhere.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean the missions where we get shot, kidnapped, or tortured?¡± Sage asked darkly, his voice not sounding fond of the past events he had in mind. ¡°Or the ones where we¡¯ve had to murder innocent witnesses to the chaos we¡¯ve brought to their towns with our business? Or the ones where we actually do everything by the book and still get yelled at by our higher ups?¡±


    ¡°I dunno¡­ any of them?¡± the way she casually responded made Sage wonder if she was joking like a sane person would, or if she had meant it.


    Claire took her eye out of her scope and peered in the surrounding area. Miles out on the horizon laid the beginning of the end of the desert and the group of men were heading directly toward their direction, nothing but sandy dunes and the shimmering waves of heat seen in the air. They were approaching the land that shifted from sandy hills to a growing forest. Somewhere in the midst of smaller trees and bushes, she knew that Sage was hiding with his long bow, ready to take anybody out at a given notice like her. She couldn¡¯t make out exactly where he was, but she figured he was in one of three specific spots from what she could tell and how long they had been partners. They were able to read each other most of the time, and Claire was appreciative to have a partner should could connect with on a such a level.


    They had been partners ever since the beginning of their senior year in the Phantom Academy, and they couldn¡¯t stand each other when they had first worked together. Claire was a straight-A overachiever who wanted to prove her worth. Since nearly all Phantoms are typically orphans, Claire had always missed having some type of parental figure in her life, but the praise she had received from teachers and higher-ups in her school career were the closest thing she ever received to motherly or fatherly praise. And until they had graduated, all she had ever wanted was to be praised and give her best to any mission, any duty, any person of power who could help her feel worthy.


    Sage, on the other hand, was a hard worker¡­ but only on his terms. Sage was usually more brilliant than most students in any of his classes, especially tactics and strategy classes. He would ace every single test, but he failed to ever turn in even a single assignment. Whenever he was asked why he never did any of his homework or classwork, he claimed to never involve himself in anything that wasn¡¯t a worthy challenge or will better his life, like payment or better social status with his peers. And it seemed that nothing would ever change that¡­


    Until the two were partnered up in a class that was mandatory to graduate, where one of the few rules in the class were that you weren¡¯t allowed to trade partners. The whole class was based on low-class missions that could help students gain experience for when they were to go out in the world and be official Phantoms, taking on the secret jobs of the Central Government. Jobs in school would range from guarding somebody from a distance as they traveled from point A to point B, to taking on a weaker daemon with a large group and a couple of teachers. It was necessary to learn if they were going to go out into the world with important assassination jobs that could turn the tide of every single country and its economy, or to possibly sacrifice themselves fighting a daemon that¡¯s unusually large or has some type of special ability willing to destroy everything in its path. Laying down your life for causes where nobody would ever know your sacrifice or pain was the exact purpose of a Phantom; to have no loyalties or tithes to anything or anyone other than the greater good of mankind. The perfect task force to for those who wanted to make the world a better place¡­ or at least that¡¯s what it was known to be on paper.


    After a month of rubbing each other the wrong way, Claire and Sage were sent on a survival mission in the woods. The exercise was to drop each pair of warriors in the middle of a known daemon-infested forest with nothing more than a dagger per person. They had to manage to stay alive and inside the forest for 72 hours before the school came back to find others. Sage¡¯s annoyance seemed to deplete the moment Claire had killed a highly venomous snake their first night, and that was after she had proven herself useful when she fashioned a fire and a tepee made of sticks and large banana leaves. Claire seemed to ease off of Sage when Sage dove after Claire who had fallen into a rapid-flowing river when a muddy hill gave way under her feet and slide her into the cold waters. Sage dove in without hesitation and managed to grab her and snag onto a log that was dammed up by a group of rocks, and the two worked together to pull each other out. And that was only the beginning of their friendship.


    Over the course of the last two years, Claire had noticed she was a lot more relaxed when it came to being recognized by her higher-ups thanks to Sage¡¯s easy-going attitude towards missions. He was rubbing off on her in minor ways, and she noticed that her superiors actually seemed to be more impressed without her being overly-eager about every single mission. And Sage was starting to respect the concept of a hierarchy and that he had to learn how to take orders without a sarcastic remark. When the two were originally paired, the student with the highest and the lowest overall grades in their class, they thought the school was making a mistake. But as they look back on their adventures and how other people had worked together, they couldn¡¯t be happier with the selection. They knew each other¡¯s strengths and weaknesses and made sure to strengthen each other to become better as individuals as well as a unit.


    ¡°So...¡± Claire talked into her headset, still taking careful aim at the group of men on the valley floor, trying to fill the emptiness of boredom that welled inside her. ¡°If you had to fight a person from any country, what order would you want to fight them?¡±


    ¡°You and these weird-ass questions you like to ask...¡± she could feel Sage shake his head through his tone. ¡°What are we talking about, like... just regular people?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Claire asked, and the image in her head made her laugh. ¡°No, not normal civilians.¡±


    ¡°You sure? You¡¯re not expecting me to go down to Ryn and fight some hooker? Or beat up a baker in some Paiyian village?¡±


    ¡°Ha-ha,¡± she laughed, semi-sarcastically. ¡°No, I mean like, real warriors¡­ people who weren¡¯t meant to fight. Who do you think you¡¯d have a hard time with?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Sage gave it a few moments to think thoroughly. ¡°If we¡¯re talking about the best of the best of warriors, I¡¯d have to say¡­ From hardest to easiest¡­ Miizunese, Ghaldian, Paiyian, and then Rynian. In that order.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± it was hard for Claire to keep her voice to a regular volume with such a shocking answer. ¡°You¡¯d rather fight a Paiyian than a Rynian? The people of Paiyi don¡¯t have anything better than spears, swords and arrows. You really think that outweighs guns and nukes?¡±


    ¡°Okay, well, what person in Ryn do you know that has an atomic weapon? Like personally? Nobody alone owns a nuke, I can guarantee that. And secondly, have you actually paid attention to the people when we¡¯ve visited Ryn? They¡¯re nothing more than a group of hedonists, and I¡¯m pretty sure they would surrender to anybody who promised to indulge their weekend with drugs and women.¡±


    ¡°Yeah but still, I¡¯m more scared of a gun than a javelin. I¡¯m just saying...¡±


    ¡°And I hear you,¡± Sage said in a tone that he always used before driving home a good point. ¡°But if you were to swap weapons, who would you be more afraid of: A Rynian with a spear, or a Paiyian with gun?¡±


    Claire tried to find a valid argument or point she could make to counter his ideas, not because she didn¡¯t agree with him, but the two were constantly playing devil¡¯s advocate with one another, always asking questions to see if the other had really thought through before choosing believe something or follow an ideology. But as hard as she tried to think of something, the only thing she could think of was the hysterical image of a soft, nonathletic soldier of Ryn trying to charge at her with a spear. The weakest person in the Academy could take out such a person with a blindfold. It was literally one of their exercises their sophomore year to fight a person without any weapon training while wearing a blindfold and being bare handed. A lot of fingers were lost that day, Claire could remember.


    ¡°Fine, asshole.¡± she said, defeated at thinking of anything to remark with. ¡°Paiyian people are scarier than Rynian people in terms of fight...¡± she trailed off before another thought popped into her head. ¡°Okay, what same type of list, but what nation would you rather fuck? Go.¡±


    Sage shifted uncomfortably, remaining silent for a while. He wiped his brow of sweat from the warmth of the sun and the amount of clothing they had to wear on this mission. He tried to make sure his black and white striped hair didn¡¯t expose itself from his headpiece identical to Claire¡¯s. He knew that Claire was aware how much talking about sex and romance was something Sage didn¡¯t rightly know how to express. Phantoms as a whole were constantly discouraged from seeking long term commitment to anybody because their lives were dedicated to serving the betterment of the world, and they could be asked to sacrifice themselves at any given moment. It wouldn¡¯t be fair to leave a spouse or family behind without so much a second thought. But even beyond those reasons, he never really quite understood his relation with girls.


    It wasn¡¯t to say he didn¡¯t have any experience with them. He had slept with a small handful of different girls, and sex always felt good on a physical level. But he didn¡¯t understand the appeal to things like post-coital cuddling or pillow talks. And most the time he had ever found himself bedding a woman, it was almost always when he was drunk at a bar after a successful mission and a tipsy woman would flirt heavily on him for hours. After a few more drinks, he would decide that a physical release could be the icing on the cake he needed, and have the woman lead him to her house or a nearby motel. He was told by a lot of local women around the world that they found him attractive, and his cool, mysterious silence and brooding nature seemed to draw women in even more, especially in Ghald for some reason. So, it wasn¡¯t hard to find somebody willing whenever the mood did find him, and that mood rarely ever came.


    ¡°Uh, hello? Did somebody get too embarrassed to talk about sex again?¡± Claire teased over the headset. The fact that she was right made Sage blush in embarrassment. He was happy she couldn¡¯t see him to make fun of him even more.


    ¡°I¡¯m still here,¡± he cleared his throat. ¡°I just haven¡¯t really looked at women in different countries like that.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Who can forget Sage the Sexless.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sexless!¡± Sage said, talking almost too loud for what the mission required.


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Claire laughed, almost enjoying tormenting her partner too much.


    Sage wasn¡¯t sure what to say. Unlike Sage, Claire had a knack for getting attached to men and relationships. At first, it started in the Academy when she was interested in other Phantoms, which made more sense to Sage since they all had a similar lifestyle. But when her and Sage would get shipped out for a long-term mission, and she fell for one of the local boys in the town they stayed in, it was never a good thing. Either the Phantom Claire was trained to be would be too tough and cold-hearted for whoever she was dating or she was the overly emotional, overly clingy one who would get her heart broken. It was every time she had her heart broken that she would drink herself into a sobbing mess, and when she couldn¡¯t cry any longer, she found herself in the bed of whoever might be willing.


    There was one time she had slipped into Sage¡¯s room, half undressed when she entered his bed. Sage quickly jolted awake as she pressed her body against his, but he quickly took hold of her shoulders, looked her dead in the eye and simply said, ¡°You¡¯re drunk.¡± He had gotten her a cup of water and allowed her to sleep in his bed for the sake of keeping her company, but by the time he woke up in the morning, she was in her own room. The two never spoke about that night, and Sage wasn¡¯t sure if it was because she didn¡¯t want to revisit an embarrassing moment sober or if she truly didn¡¯t remember what happened.


    Claire could almost pick up on what Sage was thinking about due to his awkward silence. He usually got oddly quiet whenever Claire¡¯s romantic past got brought up. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was for letting herself get so wrapped up in her feelings when a Phantom should know better, or the awkwardness of her drunkenly coming onto Sage. She didn¡¯t know exactly what her relationship with Sage was besides a fantastic battle partner. She couldn¡¯t say that she loved him like a brother because she wouldn¡¯t crawl into her brother¡¯s bed and try to do some of the things she was willing to do. But she had almost absolutely no attraction to him romantically. She tried to imagine a normal life with him, normal husband and wife living in a normal house with two normal kids¡­ the thought once almost made her burst out laughing in the middle of a boring meeting.


    ¡°Soooo¡­ you haven¡¯t answer the question,¡± Claire said, trying to get the focus of topic back on board. ¡°Out of the four countries, who would Sage the Semi-Sexless-¡± Sage groaned at the new title as well. ¡°-want to bang out of anyone in this country.¡±


    ¡°Miizunese, Ghaldian, Rynian, Paiyian. In that order.¡± He answered almost without hesitation, which caught Claire off guard. Then again, Sage seemed to always come up with strange or random surprises.


    ¡°That was quick...¡± Claire whistled with feigned impression. ¡°It¡¯s almost like you think about sex and war are alike if we compared your two lists.¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh.¡± Sage refused. ¡°I¡¯d rather fuck a Rynian woman than fight a Rynian man.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s that? I thought your whole fetish was, like, strong empowered women who could literally put a knife in your heart?¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah...¡± he agreed. ¡°But look at Ryn as a society. All they do is chase their most basic and carnal desires all of their lives, barely ever working hard towards anything, unless they¡¯re involved in sciences and education. Those bright, beautiful, brilliant minds who pursue education are surrounded by dopamine-chasing zombies who can¡¯t even ask questions that aren¡¯t in direct correlation getting a roof over their head, food in their belly, a body or bodies to sleep with, and drugs to make life more interesting or make you forget all your troubles. So, if I go to Ryn seeking a woman who¡¯s most experienced in the bedroom, I¡¯ll be going to a land where even virgins know how to suck properly because of all the porn that circulates around there like it¡¯s normal. And if I end up with one of those brainier women, then I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be happy to finally meet somebody worthy of a decent conversation. And the type of women who usually pursue education hold a high esteem of themselves, so they don¡¯t just sleep around with any loser-with-a-cock like a lot of the waitresses or housekeepers in that nation. And all that time between partners can make a person¡¯s cravings grow, so by the time I¡¯m there with stimulating conversation and they decide to give themselves to me in the bedroom-¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re ready to do just about anything with you, yeah, yeah.¡± While it wasn¡¯t normal for Sage to be interested in talking about sex or sharing his views or thoughts on the subject, the few times he did, it was almost always overly logical. While most guys she¡¯s met had simply seen a pretty girl and that¡¯s all it took to get them to want to sleep with her, Sage preferred the option that was going to represent the best experience.


    ¡°At least I take my time thinking about my options, Miss ¡®I¡¯ve-taken-three-too-many-shots-so-who¡¯s-cute-and-trying-to-take-me-home.¡¯ You keep saying throughout our partnership that you¡¯re not into girls, but you¡¯ve brought three home so far.¡±


    ¡°You know why they call hard liquor ¡®spirits¡¯, right? Because when you black out, you¡¯ve been taken over by the spirit of the bottle. Besides, it¡¯s only been three girls over the course of two years. How many guys have I brought back to my bed?¡±


    ¡°Claire... if I know you¡¯re not aware of the number of guys you¡¯ve slept with, what makes you think I¡¯m going to remember that number?¡±


    ¡°Careful there, Sage,¡± Claire warned in a sing-song voice as she moved her scope away from the group and towards a horde of bushes that Sage might¡¯ve been hiding in. ¡°I¡¯ve often heard that slut-shamers usually get shot.¡±


    ¡°Is that before or after the slut starts aiming her gun at the right set of bushes?¡± Sage jested.


    ¡°Hang on...¡± Claire¡¯s voice had a sudden edge to it, sending Sage back into alarm. The two looked at the group of men who were heading towards them stop in their tracks. They seemed to arguing in a dialect neither were familiar with based off the few sounds they could make out from such a distance, most likely a language that hailed somewhere in the depths of Paiyi. But the group of men weren¡¯t even a quarter mile away from Sage, the area they were instructed to attack the group. They weren¡¯t supposed to fire a single shot until they got to the right location, or if plans had gone wrong. ¡°What are they doing?¡±


    ¡°It looks like they¡¯re having a dispute about something¡­ I wonder what about?¡± Sage said as he pulled an arrow out of his quiver and brushed one of the feathers of his arrows with his thumb as he waited to see if he was going to have to make an impulsive shot. He watched as the men took turns yelling at each other. At one point, they had pointed down the road where Sage was posted, something that made him feel uncomfortable. There was a good chance they weren¡¯t talking about him or the dangers he and Claire were about to unleash, but he didn¡¯t like where the conversation seemed to be going.


    ¡°Can you make out anything they¡¯re saying?¡± Claire asked, seeing as Sage was a great deal closer to them than her, but even if he were able to hear their words, he was sure he still wouldn¡¯t understand them.


    ¡°Not at all...¡± Sage said as he watched the men argue with one another. It seemed somebody had messed up on something and they were trying to find out who was to blame. The men took turns shouting and pointing at each other and the wagon full of covered and clothed items. Sage watched them as they seemed to come to no resolve, still taking turns shouting at one another. That had made Sage remember an important piece of information.


    ¡°Hey Claire, in our debrief about this mission¡­ how many people did they say there was supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°Twelve. Why do you...¡± Claire was about to ask the question until she herself had realized there were only eight men around the wagon arguing. That¡¯s why Sage felt so off about the men arguing, he realized. He and Claire had pulled off the ¡°arguing couple¡± routine whenever trying to ambush an unsuspecting party on multiple occasions. The moment Sage had realized that the men arguing seemed to be stalling for time more than actually bickering was when Sage had heard the soft snapping of a twig behind him.


    Sage turned to find a man wearing the same cloak as the group by the wagon lunge at him with a long dagger in his hands, sending the both of them tumbling on the ground. The fact that he was able to get so close to Sage without detection was something that really threw Sage off guard. With all the training they had done, all of the slaughtering they had both survived and brought upon people, Sage knew that whoever was trying to flank him with a surprise was nobody to underestimate. When the two finished rolling around, the man was on top of Sage, a little taller and much heavier than Sage, making it almost impossible to lift the body off himself. Sage¡¯s hands clasped around the hands of his attacker who was slowly trying to drive the point of the blade into Sage¡¯s heart. Sage managed to stop the assault, but the it was a struggle to keep the blade above his chest, and it was only slowly drooping lower. The strength and positional advantage of his foe was too great¡­


    Until Claire had noticed the shaking and rustling of the bushes. She could hear grunts and struggles of Sage and another person over her headset, and quickly got into her professional state of mind as she looked through her scope. The men near the wagon had noticed the commotion and started to reach for their weapons as well. The man attacking Sage had shouted something in their foreign tongue, and that made the rest of the group prepare themselves for a fight. But just as the men started to unsheathe their weapons, one man fell to the ground, blood spilling from his head. And before another second could pass, another man dropped, and the sounds of two heavy sniper rounds being fired finally caught up to the ears of those so far away from Claire. When the men realized there were two different points of being attacked, they started to split up and hide around the cart out of Claire¡¯s sight or to help their friend who was fighting Sage.


    Luckily for Sage, the sounds of the two shots had shaken his attackers grip for just a second, but it was long enough for Sage to pull one arm away from supporting the blade from piercing him, and into the quiver on his back being smashed into the soft dirt with the weight of both men. His fingers felt the tickle of a feather at the tail end of an arrow, and wrapped his fingers around it. By the time his attacker had given his full attention back to Sage, Sage had plunged the arrow head right into the side of the man¡¯s throat. The bottom of the man¡¯s hood started to well and flood with blood as the man gave one last sickly exhale of breath, oozed over in blood, as the body fell sideways.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Sage, who had heard the foot of a couple men racing towards him with battle cries, looked around for his bow to be able to shoot. He spotted it in his original spot in the bushes, several feet away from him, and the men approaching him were only an arm¡¯s length away. He got to his knees as quickly as he could, and removed the arrow from the corpse he had just slain and deflected the blow of a sword with the arrow head, and was lucky enough to do the same to the second man of the pair who were attacking him. The momentum of his parries brought the men off balance, and he was able to quickly remove another arrow from his quiver as he stood and put it seamlessly into the eye of one of the men who let out a blood-curdling scream.


    Claire saw the commotion down below and got up onto her knees as she drew a dagger from the sheathe on her hip. She examined the battlefield below her carefully before taking as careful an aim directly into the sky above her. She calculated accordingly before she threw the dagger as hard as she could into the sky, making it seem to disappear into the vast blue sea above her. It wasn¡¯t until she had thrown the dagger that she had noticed two men coming towards her on top of the cliff, and they had managed to stealthily conceal themselves until they were at an alarming closeness. Claire was lucky enough to grab the handgun attached to her other hip, and unload three rounds into the shoulders and face of one of her attackers. The other one managed to tackle Claire to the ground after she deflected his sword with her gun skillfully.


    The man was on top of Claire, both of them had their weapons flung from their hands as they hit the ground. Her assailant had tried to strangle her, but she caught his hands just before he could tighten his grip around her throat. There was a struggle as he tried to force his fingers around her neck and she kept his hands from getting even an inch closer. They stayed plateaued for a few moments until Claire began to give a weak, throaty chuckle, and her chuckle evolved into a full-on laugh.


    ¡°What¡¯s¡­. wrong¡­?¡± the man grunted, feeling successful in breaking his enemy¡¯s ego enough to make them go mad with laughter as he did his best to strangle the life out of her. ¡°Are you¡­ that¡­ afraid... to die?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Claire laughed even harder. To the man¡¯s surprise, her laughter wasn¡¯t making her grip seem any weaker. No, if anything¡­ she was getting stronger. ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re stupid and weak.¡± Claire laughed again before she gripped the man¡¯s hands even tighter, and used her feet to throw the man over her head and behind her, right off the edge of the cliff. She heard his screams end with a wet, faint, sickly splat. She got up and finished chuckling as she wiped a tear from her eye from laughing so hard. ¡°Ah¡­ so many idiots in the world. I mean, why would anyone volunteer to fight us?¡± Claire spoke into her headset as she looked down to where Sage had been.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because they didn¡¯t know it was us they were getting involved with.¡± Sage retorted after he finished driving the dull blade of his enemy into its owner''s skull. He quickly grabbed his bow and emerged from the bushes, in plain view of the cart, and quickly took out two men with shots to the face and throat with two quickly drawn arrows. Sage heard two more bodies drop followed by the delayed sounds of rifle shots, and at one point Sage saw a dagger fall out of the sky and on top of the skull of a man who was trying to do his best to hide out of sight of the fight behind the motionless cart.


    ¡°Was that you?¡± Sage asked Claire.


    ¡°You mean the dagger? Yeah, that guy was trying to stay out of the fight like a little bitch.¡± Claire stressed the last word at the same moment as she head-shot another man.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t we talked about how it isn¡¯t lady-like to swear so much?¡±


    ¡°Up yours.¡± Claire spat. She took a shot at another man and watched his blood spray about like a popped balloon full of red dye as he dropped to the floor. There remained only one man, and Sage took aim at him before he dropped his weapon and put his hands in the air to surrender.


    ¡°Please! Wait! Stop! I surrender! I yield, I yield!¡± he pleaded as he dropped to his knees.


    ¡°You think I give a shit?¡± Sage asked coldly as he pulled back the string of his bow.


    ¡°Please! I¡¯m a Phantom!¡±


    Sage paused and lowered his weapon slightly.


    ¡°What?¡± Sage didn¡¯t hide his surprise.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Phantom! I work for the Central Government!¡± The person speaking sounded like a young man, not much younger than Sage had been. ¡°You know what happens when a person knowingly kills a government agent right? They¡¯ll hunt you down, and bring you back for a trial¡­ if they¡¯re feeling kind. Otherwise they¡¯ll find you and kill you and erase your entire existence like you were never there. These guys do not mess around.¡±


    ¡°Interesting...¡± Sage lowered his weapon even more. ¡°You hear that, Claire?¡± he asked through his head piece.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m coming down now. Don¡¯t kill him.¡±


    Claire made her way down the cliff and reloaded her weapons on the way down, just in case. When she had finally made it down to the wagon, Sage had his bow drawn, standing only a few feet away from the man who was on his knees with his hands held above his head. She walked up next to Sage, who kept his weapon on their prisoner.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re a Phantom, huh?¡± Claire asked, as she pulled out her hand gun and pointed it at his head. ¡°Remove that mask and show me your face.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?" The young man seemed overly concerned with the orders given to him and not his life, so Claire fired two shots in between the man¡¯s legs to remind him of his place. The young man quickly removed his hood and showed his face, showing a young man in his early twenties, shimmering gold eyes and long red hair tied into a ponytail, his hair color showing his Paiyian roots. He was shaking at this point now. Claire had never seen such cowardice in the Academy, not even from first years.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re a part of the Phantoms, huh?¡± Claire questioned with suspicion, dropping her own weapon to her side while Sage kept his drawn arrow pointed at the young man¡¯s face, ready to let go at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°Y-y-yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°What the hell are you guys doing all the way out here?¡± Sage asked. ¡°What crazy shenanigans has to have twelve of you assholes watching this single cart? And whoever hired you guys should get their money back, you guys were some ass-backwards, shoddy squad here.¡±


    ¡°Way to kick them while they¡¯re down.¡± Claire teased.


    ¡°Hey, one of his squad-mates had almost gotten the jump on me and stabbed me in the face. I think I¡¯m allowed to feel a little salty.¡±


    ¡°Anyway...¡± Claire turned her attention from Sage back to the unmasked coward. ¡°Are you going to tell me and my friend here what made you guys travel so far from the desert all the way here with a Rynian wagon? Did you guys think that that would go unnoticed?¡±


    ¡°W-we-we had a care package to deliver just a few miles south of here. We were supposed to exchange it with another group and disperse, that¡¯s honestly all I know!¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even know what you guys were carrying?¡±


    ¡°No. All I know is that it was a giant chest with a bunch of locks on it with no key. We even had one guy earlier on our journey try to break into the chest, but those locks are almost impossible without the key to crack open. We had to kill him when we found out about his attempted theft.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see what we can do, huh?¡± Claire said as she pointed the gun at the young man and motioned for him to move towards the wagon.


    The three of them walked over to the back end of the wagon, and the man hesitated before opening the back end of it. But when Claire waved her gun at him to open it up, the young man only gulped before nodding and doing as he was instructed. When he lifted the trunk of the wagon open, there had been a red chest made of an assortment of metals combined to create a secure safe with three locks attached to the front of it. Claire shoved the man aside as she took a closer look at the locks. She fidgeted with all three, looking at the lock holes and pulling down to test the strength of the locks.


    ¡°I¡¯ve broken into a lock of places in my life, but I¡¯ve never seen a lock like this. I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m going to be able to pick our way through.¡± Claire sighed as she picked up a large stone that barely allowed her fingers to curl over for a solid grasp. ¡°Might as well smash it in, I guess.¡± She prepared herself for the potential hours it may take for her to muscle her way through even just one lock, let alone all three.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to smash it in?¡± the young man questioned as if he heard the most asinine statement. ¡°The guy who tried to break into the chest had a soldering gun and went half through the night without as much as a scratch on that thing. You really think you can just muscle your way-¡±


    ¡°We could always use these.¡± Sage stated nonchalantly as he casually pulled out three separate keys, all fashioned in a similar fashion wrapped in gold with a red ruby engraved in the center of the handle of each key.


    ¡°When the hell did you get those?¡± Claire asked, not hiding her surprise.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the one telling me that I need to check the mission itinerary? You¡¯re lucky that I do more than just gloss over the details and double check that we have what we need.¡±


    ¡°Because I taught you the importance of doing it! You¡¯ve only taught me not to worry so much about the details and how to read between the lines, so don¡¯t you go acting all condescending to me.¡± she shot back.


    Sage laughed as he walked over to the chest and started to unfasten all the locks with the key. The young man seemed to be more mystified as to who these two people in front of him were when the first lock was unlatched without difficulty. When the second lock was unlatched, Claire got the sneaky suspicion that whatever was in the chest was bigger than any of her superiors had led them to believe. Sage was simply happy to be getting the mission out of the way once they brought whatever was inside back to headquarters. But the moment Sage had unlocked the third lock, a gentle voice spoke, ¡°This is the moment your life changes forever.¡±


    Clair and Sage quickly turned around to look at the young man behind them, who was still sitting in the same spot he had been a moment before. But the voice had felt as if it were being whispered into their ears. There was no way that this guy had whispered and sat back down that quickly, especially to two perfectly trained Phantoms.


    ¡°What the hell did you say?¡± Claire exploded.


    ¡°What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡± Sage growled.


    The two of them had spoken at the same time, which didn¡¯t seem to help the young man¡¯s understanding of what they were talking about. While the two had demanded and waited for an answer, the young man simply stared at the two of them blankly, until he realized not answering at all might not be in his best interest.


    ¡°W... what are you guys talking about?¡± he tried to not show fear, but his attempt failed him.


    ¡°What the hell do you mean this is the day our lives change forever?¡± Sage demanded in a lower, darker voice.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything!¡± the young man threw his hands up next to his face instinctively, showing even more surrender than he had already shown. ¡°You guys were unlocking the chest, and then turned around and started yelling at me.¡±


    ¡°You heard it too, right?¡± Sage asked.


    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± Claire said, squashing any doubt the two had on hearing the statement. ¡°It sounded like it was being whispered right into my ear by a little creep.¡±


    ¡°I swear, you guys, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about! I didn¡¯t hear anything! Nobody else is out here! Why would I do something when I¡¯m out here all alone against you two?¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying we¡¯re crazy?¡± Claire asked, her temperament rising and the young man could feel her wrath beginning to boil.


    ¡°N-n-no, ma¡¯am!¡± the young regretted his words immediately.


    ¡°Forget about him,¡± Sage said. ¡°He¡¯s not worth our time. We gotta get whatever is in this chest out of the hot-ass desert and head home to relax for a couple days, I¡¯m tired of all this back-to-back traveling.¡±


    Claire nodded with a pout, showing she was disappointed to not be able to show their prisoner what respect was meant to look like. She walked up to Sage, and the two of them looked each other before Sage opened up the lid. When he did, a soft, light blue ray of light began to illuminate out of the chest and brighten up Sage and Claire¡¯s face.


    ¡°Whoa...¡± the two of them said dreamily in unison. The young man peered his eyes over their shoulders and got a good look himself.


    The three of them stared inside the chest to see a small sea of sparkling crystals, almost as clear as glass if it wasn¡¯t for the soft sky-blue hue. They came from various sizes, from tiny pebbles that wasn¡¯t much larger than a few grains of sand to the size of the large rock in Claire¡¯s hand. Some of them had strings attached, made to be worn as necklaces or bracelets. Sage must have guessed there was nearly two hundred individual stones in this case.


    ¡°What are those?¡± the young man asked in wonder.


    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t know?¡± Claire said, her voice suddenly friendlier and inviting.


    ¡°Claire...¡± Sage said, his voice filled with warning.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. He doesn¡¯t know what these are, and if he¡¯s really a Phantom, he should know these things.¡± she picked up one of the smaller stones and lifted it in front her face, examining it. ¡°These crystals are magic. Literal magic. You¡¯ve heard the tales of how the Goddess Sonova had given her gift of life and magic to the fifth unnamed child before they divided the world and sealed themselves off on the Central Island? Well¡­ the Central Government has kept this one of the biggest secrets in the last decade, but we¡¯ve managed to find a way to the center island. But nobody has been able to venture beyond the shores of the island without combusting and exploding from some magical force. But luckily, on the beaches are some huge-ass boulders filled with enough magic to wipe out an entire nation. But too much magic in one place seems to make stones too volatile and start to cause damage when too large a piece drifts too far from its native land. But smaller pieces such as these seem to remain intact and can be manipulated far easier.¡± Claire tossed the young man the piece she was holding to examine himself.


    ¡°Manipulated? What are these things used for?¡± the young man asked after taking a careful look himself.


    ¡°To further advance the abilities and capabilities of anything living thing or object.¡± Sage responded. ¡°But scientists from Ryn are still trying to figure out just how much magic can actually do in our sense of reality. While we¡¯ve seen them make warriors and stronger be able to do things never thought possible for a human, we¡¯ve also seen a person try to use too much magic at once and be consumed by the crystal. So, even if we wanted to let the public know about magic its benefits, we simply don¡¯t have enough knowledge to worry about your average, every-day-idiot get their hands on these. It may be another fifty years before we understand it enough to start making it a public tool.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­ interesting.¡± the young man said, taking one last look at the crystal.


    ¡°Yeah...¡± Claire agreed. ¡°And the real interesting thing is that every single person who¡¯s ever been to the Phantom academy had learned this their third year. And I don¡¯t mean glossed over and vaguely talked about it¡­ I mean they really drilled that information in our heads.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± the young man quickly looked at both Claire and Sage with worry starting to spread across his face. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re both Phantoms?¡±


    ¡°Well, duh.¡± Claire said insultingly. ¡°How else do you think we got our own?¡± Claire pulled a small crystal she wore as a necklace from underneath her clothes, and Sage had shown a bracelet he wore on his left forearm. The young man started to look for words, anything to explain the reason he lied about being a Phantom, but Sage had cut him off.


    ¡°Look, dude¡­ since you¡¯re not a Phantom, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re not very familiar with the rules of being a Phantom...¡± Sage had sounded solemn.


    ¡°Look, please, I may not know anything about what you guys do or anything, but I swear I won¡¯t speak a word of this to-¡±


    The young man¡¯s plea was cut short by his own cry for pain as Claire smashed the rock against the young man¡¯s head as hard as she could. The young man fell to the ground, and Claire was on top of him within a second. She brought the stone up over her head with both hands and brought it down with all her strength once.


    ¡°You assholes going around...¡± she brought the stone down again, fueling his sickly screams of anguish. ¡°Stealing our name...¡± she brought the stone overhead and down once more. She wasn¡¯t sure where exactly, but she felt a part his skull cave in with a wet, dull crack. ¡°And dying like...¡± she pounded the stone into the young man¡¯s face, and his screams had ceased. ¡°A... bunch...of...pussies!¡± she continued to smash the skull of the corpse with each word until the man¡¯s face had been unrecognizable pieces of flesh, blood, bone, meat and goop.


    Claire continued to sit on top of the corpse for a moment, catching her breath and finding her calm and collected professionalism again. Once she had found her breath again, she stood, pushed back any hair that had fallen out of her headgear back into place. She looked at the bloodied body before her before she looked at Sage, who looked at her with one of his eyebrows raised, but he said nothing.


    ¡°What?¡± Claire asked defensively. ¡°You already know that one of our main jobs as Phantoms is to keep the secret of Magic, and to eliminate anybody who is spreading information about magic or obtains a government cache like this.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say one word...¡± Sage mocked with a grin.


    ¡°Then why are you looking at me like I¡¯m crazy?¡±


    ¡°Well, you are a Phantom... almost every single one of us are unstable in the mind somehow.¡± Sage said as he moved passed Claire and towards the chest, taking out a cell phone. He started to send a message and took a photo of the open chest, showing all the crystals inside. ¡°It just seemed like you were enjoying yourself a little too much with bashing that kids¡¯ skull in. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, but he was claiming he was a Phantom. You know that we can¡¯t just abide by that.¡±


    ¡°We? As in all of the Phantoms, or just you and your vigilante attitude?¡± Sage half-joked.


    ¡°You already know that we¡¯ve been instructed to put down anybody who falsely associates themselves with us. Everyone in the world knows that. It¡¯s a scary story people tell each other around campfires and shit. We can¡¯t let people think they can get away with stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say...¡± Sage teased once more as he finished sending the message. It was customary to text or use some type of communication devise to send your mission status to headquarters, and to receive an update as to what to do next in their mission or if it was over and they could come home. After sending his message, it took almost five minutes before Sage got a response back. When he did, his eyes widened as he read the message. Then he read it a second time to make sure he was reading the message right. By the third time he had finished rereading it, his mouth dropped slightly. ¡°Holy shit...¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°We¡­ we have another mission...¡± Sage seemed focus more on what the message said than what he was saying.


    ¡°What? Like immediately? I was really hoping to get a chance to go home and in a real shower for the first time in two weeks...¡± Claire groaned.


    ¡°No, no, this mission doesn¡¯t start for another month...¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡± Claire said, eyeing Sage. It wasn¡¯t like him to get worked over little thing. Hell, Claire just smashed a man¡¯s head in and Sage was pretty much making jokes about it immediately after. ¡°So, what¡¯s this mission all about.¡±


    ¡°Hold on...¡± Sage said as he began typing another message. ¡°Let me make sure this is real. Or, like¡­ make sure we¡¯re not being hacked and given a fake mission or something.¡±


    ¡°Sage¡­ what is it?¡± the worry in Sage¡¯s eyes and voice was uncharacteristic for him, and it was worrying Claire. He held up a finger, indicating that she should wait. Not even thirty seconds later and another message came through.


    ¡°Nope¡­ looks like this mission is real.¡± he handed the phone over for Claire to see. Claire took the phone and read the instructions. There wasn¡¯t much there, only three steps they had to follow, but this wasn¡¯t your typical mission.


    ¡°You sure about this?¡± Claire asked as she read the instructions.


    ¡°Yeah, double checked and everything¡­ You gonna have any problems with doing this?¡±


    Claire had to really think about it for a moment. She looked at the words again. There were three steps to the mission: 1.) Find a way into the Ceremony of the Moon on the Center Island the day the four moons are all full next month. 2.) Guide the Children of the Ceremony to complete their wedding vows and watch over the wedding, take note of anybody trying to stop or infiltrate the wedding. 3.) Eliminate every single person who isn¡¯t a Phantom once the ceremony is over.


    ¡°I mean¡­ we¡¯re Phantoms, right? When have we ever questioned our superiors?¡±


    The two had gathered their things and left the battlefield with the wagon and chest to return back home. They had talked about the mission they had just finished as them and the wagon they had commandeered disappeared into the forest. But what the two hadn¡¯t noticed that, among a large group of birds in a tree, one of them was a robotic bird that blended in all too well. The mechanical bird had a camera in the eyes, projecting the entire fight to a large screen in a dark room filled with five shadowy figures sitting around a large table.


    On the screen was fourteen different panels, each showing a different person in a different part of the world in real-time, being secretly recorded by items and secret cameras they were placed inconspicuously. Caine, Motoko, Daan, Miranda, and Claire and Sage were all a part of those people on the screens, living out their everyday lives without audio.


    ¡°Are we ready to begin?¡± a young man spoke, his voice soft and poised, yet there was an underlying tone of authority.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been ready for weeks.¡± a female who was fully-grown complained childishly. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have a whole lot going on in our lives, so let¡¯s get this show on the road already!¡±


    ¡°Amy, could you please calm your sister down? She¡¯s been complaining about her patience for long enough.¡± a deep, gruff man groaned, not showing his annoyance.


    ¡°I¡¯m not May¡¯s keeper. You have something to say, take it up with her.¡± the one referred to as Amy spoke back, her voice silkier and more sultry than her childish counterpart.


    ¡°Guys, can we please focus?¡± a last voice spoke, sounding like an actual young child. ¡°Seriously, I¡¯m the youngest one here, but I have more sense and a better attention span than half of you. And can we please stick to our code names? I don¡¯t want you getting comfortable out there in the real world calling any of the Gemini twins by their real names.¡±


    ¡°Sorry...¡± the first woman responded. ¡°Puppet-Master.¡± the name was spoken acidly, showing annoyance to following their protocol on names.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± the first man had spoken, waiting for everyone¡¯s full attention to fall on him. ¡°As you may well know, it is once again time to place our bets. However, this time, there are a couple new factors we¡¯ve added to make things more interesting. For starters, this time around, nobody will know which person is who. We will each pick a number, and out of the rest of the remaining numbers, we will be randomly assigned a secondary number. The first number is who you are choosing to win, the second number is your wild card number. And we all know what happens when a wild card wins the match.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± one of the Gemini Twins spoke. ¡°A public spectacle of your own suicide in front of everyone here.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe five of us have died already.¡± the gruff voice seemed to chuckle at the thought.


    ¡°Yeah, but I really liked Luis. He was the last person in this group I wanted to see dead.¡± the childish sister responded.


    ¡°Well, you know we play for keeps around here.¡± the leading man spoke. ¡°If he didn¡¯t want to risk his life, he should have been so ambitious to join our group.¡± the man paused for a moment. ¡°Oh, but before I forget, the last thing that we¡¯re adding to this is the fact that two of our little test subjects- two Phantoms, actually- will be causing a scene at the Ceremony of the Moon in one month from today. They¡¯ve been instructed to kill everyone in the ceremony, so we shall have a very interesting start to this ceremony. But remember, we don¡¯t know who is who this round. One of the people you may want to vote for might or might not be a Phantom themselves. So be careful, it¡¯s not like the last few times we played.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± the gruff voice said. ¡°Can we get on to choosing our numbers?¡±


    The group agreed and had gone through a procedure of writing down the first number they wanted, not knowing which number belonged to which face on the screen. The twins had to play rock, paper, scissors when they found out they had chosen the same number. The secondary wild-card number required the group to pick a small piece of paper out of a hat. When everyone had stated which numbers were claimed to which individuals, the group had written down the official bet list. When the leader reviewed the numbers, he looked at the group before him at the table.


    ¡°Well, now that everything seems to be order, I think we can adjourn today¡¯s meeting, and meet back here in a month. The ceremony begins at sunset on the last day of the Fourth Moon. If you aren¡¯t here when the ceremony begins, you will have forfeited your position, and we will have a team of Phantoms hunt you down and slaughter you so we don¡¯t think you¡¯re running away from our bet. Sound good?¡± the group gave positive responses in a scattered manner. ¡°Well, alright then ladies and gentlemen, it¡¯s just thirty more boring days, and then...¡± he gave a wicked smile. ¡°We will let the games begin.¡±

 6.) Ceremony of the Moon

    Chapter 6


    A month passed, the feelings of the journey toward the Ceremony of the Moon had ranged greatly between each member of the quest. Caine, Motoko, Daan, Miranda, Claire and Sage had prepped, prepared and traveled for the same exact 30, but for some it went by without a hitch, while for others it a was a hell that only got worse with each passing day. But no matter how much griping and complaining had been done, there was always the constant reminder that the weight of the world depended on this, and it was only going to get harder from here. The five Children of the Moon had their quests, but the duo Phantoms had plenty of their plate as well for the preparation of their mission.


    Caine and his pink-haired guide, whom eventually introducing herself as ¡°Ruby¡±, had a great beginning of their journey¡­ but that didn¡¯t last long. The first couple days had been marked with teleporting to the farthest part of Ryn that had a grounded city on the earth, Glint, with teleportation portals that went away from the center of the four nations, the Center Island of the Unnamed Child.


    The plan was to have a record of Caine¡¯s teleportation card to lead the wrong way, and travel the actual journey on foot. One of the reasons was to try and lose any people tracking the Moon Children who might want to put an end their journey. The second reason was due to the fact that teleportation had made the trip to the Center Island a lot shorter than thirty days, and those traveling from different nations didn¡¯t have that advantage. Ghald had their trains and early-staged automobiles, but they didn¡¯t have any main roads that lead to the Center Island, as the Church and its people viewed it as a place of sacrilege. Miizu and Paiyi most likely had horses and carriages, at best. He and Ruby had skipped from town to town to waste time without settling in one particular area, and the denser the population the better. For the smaller towns, Ruby had set up an area for Caine to wait for her while she went to get supplies for camping outdoors. Caine didn¡¯t know the first thing about setting up a tent or¡­ anything that was required to make a small campsite.


    The first night on the journey, they had sex again, and any small irritation or annoyances they had built during the day had been forgotten in their moments together. But when it came to morning, it only took Caine drinking a larger portion of their water rations than Ruby had instructed not even an hour prior for their bickering to build into an argument that would later have Ruby shouting how horrible of a partner Caine was in the bedroom; a river of words telling him that he was selfish, uncaring of anything to do with her pleasure, and that his manhood wasn¡¯t anything to write back home about either. That would be the tip of the iceberg that was the hell to come for the next twenty-nine days. To be fair, Caine realized in hindsight he probably shouldn¡¯t have said the word ¡°bitch¡±, even if she was acting like one.


    Motoko and her bandaged-faced guide, who wouldn¡¯t give up her own name no matter how much time the two shared, had exchanged the stories of their battles and what styles of fighters and daemons they knew or encountered over the years. Motoko enjoyed not only the information they were able to share, but also how calm and collected her guide had always remained. There had been a few daemons they had come across as they traveled through the thick forest, the tree branches so full and thick that a bright sunny day had looked like dusk inside the leaves. But whenever they had encountered a daemon- whether it was an ambush or they had the upper hand on an unsuspecting monster- the bandaged woman had always kept the same calm tone, and she never rushed into action. Every single move, every single swing, every step she took was calculated and practiced. Motoko often wondered if this woman ever had the intent to end her life, would Motoko stand a chance of surviving that fight? The more monsters they came across, the less she was sure of the answer.


    Daan had prayed and asked the gods what he had done to be punished so harshly by being paired with his sharp-tongued guide. Every time he asked her name, she¡¯d give an answer. ¡°Britney,¡± she responded the first time.


    ¡°Really?¡± Daan would always naively ask.


    ¡°Ha! Nope!¡± she would always burst into laughter, often calling him an idiot, loser, or a long list of synonyms of the sort for believing her. A lot of their conversations were the same type of dead-ended jokes of hers, and that¡¯s when she wasn¡¯t yelling at him for being too far from her, or too close to her, or just about anything for the sake of complaining and yelling at him, it seemed. Everything Daan seemed to be interested in or believed in, she found stupid. Whether it was his faith in the gods and what the church taught, to his philosophy of helping those less fortunate than him, she poked and prodded at every given chance. It was especially annoying that she kept shifting and changing her face to a different face every few moments, so he never truly got a sense of which face was her actual face, if any she had shown were her own at all. It seemed as if her job was to drive him insane during the trip, and it never let up during the thirty days they had traveled together.


    Miranda and her journey with her handsome guide had been nothing short of exciting, stimulating, and a learning experience, in more ways than one, until the last few days of the trip. In the beginning, her guide, Romero, had shown her through forest and jungles and good ways to track Daemon footprints and other tells to know if any of them were around, and which direction they may have head off towards among other information about daemons. Miranda was able to point out and name several plants, and Romero was able to tell her their medicinal properties. As much knowledge Miranda had through textbooks and dictionaries, Romero had an abundance of knowledge through experience. And it was through this teacher/student interaction that she had noticed Romero was slowly growing closer to her. Like when he would wrap his arms around her waist and bring her closer to him as he pointed out a certain fruit or herb on a tree, or how he would sneak up and whisper in her ear in a way that got her heart racing.


    It was mild at first, but it seemed the more time passed and the fact that she never rejected his advances, he kept slowly creeping in feeling and touching her more and more. He would often talk about how it was taboo to get involved with a Child of the Moon, especially before the sacred marriage, but Miranda innocently asked, ¡°Well, I¡¯m not technically married, yet, right?¡± It seemed that he took that as an okay to go further, and seeing as this was the first time a man had paid any type of attention to her (especially a good looking one at that), she definitely didn¡¯t mind. He once accidentally walked in on her bathing in a river, yet she didn¡¯t feel compelled to cover herself as they locked eyes and he apologized and walked the other way, but not without getting a good look. The attention itself was enough to make Miranda wonder what it would have been like to feel his hands explore her body.


    But five days before the end of their journey, Romero had finally made his move. They had been holed up in an abandoned shack that sheltered them from the heat and occasional rain for the last few days, knowing they were close to their destination but needed to wait for the 30 days to run out. They had managed to make bedding out of hay and leaves that surrounded the area, and it was probably the most comfortable thing they had slept on outside of the occasional inn they would stay at when it was crowded and nobody was paying much attention to them. Miranda was coming back from another bath in the river, wearing only a towel as she tried to air-dry herself on the way back to the hut. When she had arrived, Romero was laying on the bed, fully nude and fully exposed and erect. His eyes said more than enough to tell that he wanted to bed her right then and there. As much as Miranda had mildly fantasized the thought during their trip, the surprise that it was happening right then and there gave her a great deal of anxiety. Not only that, but his hardened manhood (the first one she¡¯d seen in outside a textbook) looked exactly like a little mushroom, and that funny little thought on top of her nervousness caused her to burst into laughter.


    Romero had left the room in an embarrassed rush, and neither of them talked about that moment again. But the flirtatious touching and whispers also came to an end. Miranda wondered if it was for the better, or a sign from the gods saying to wait until marriage. She had just hoped she wouldn¡¯t burst into laughter with her future husband and bruise his ego as well.


    Claire and Sage didn¡¯t even leave for the Center Island until three days before the event happened. There had been a lot of hustle and bustle at the Central Government Headquarters. People in the offices and cubicles seemed to be rushing around trying to get official documents in place, making sure they had all the right information on the 24 chosen people to get married. It was almost hard for Claire to watch so many people work so hard only to later find out that she and Sage would murder them all. She had wondered why the government would put up so much work, only to knock it down once it was complete. Besides, didn¡¯t the Central Government want the daemons to disappear and the world to reunite? Was that not supposed to be their intention for gathering as a united force to begin with? But then again, her and Sage were merely foot soldiers who did dirty work. Perhaps there was something bigger at play that she wasn¡¯t privy to due to her being a lackey at best.


    But when Claire and Sage did end up leaving, there wasn¡¯t a huge meeting or anything like they had expected. They were just given emails about the details of the mission, which hadn¡¯t changed at all: protect the Children of the Moon until the end of the wedding, and then end all the lives of everyone who had been there; the Children, the priests, any body guards¡­ anyone and everyone was to be slain before they decided to leave the Center Island.


    At the beginning of the day of the Ceremony, each group with a Child of the Moon was woken up at the first light of dawn and traveled along a coastline until their guide had brought them to a large bolder, several feet taller than an average person, and just as wide. It looked like an ordinary rock until the guides took out a shimmering crystal from a well-secluded place on their person or baggage. When the guides had pressed the crystal onto the stone, the crystal sank into the boulder as if it were made of liquid, and the whole boulder shone a light purple hue before fading away and leaving a large entryway into the stone. The process impressed everyone, even Caine who had come from a land of technological advancements.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever seen a crystal turn a rock into a door before¡­¡± He said wryly while masking the fact that was he was impressed.


    ¡°You kids from Ryn seem to think you know so much about the world, but you really have no idea what the world is like, do you?¡± Ruby asked, shaking her head at Caine¡¯s lack of cultural knowledge outside his country.


    ¡°What? Is it like the other three nations know about cars, and trains, and the internet and everything that¡¯s going on in Ryn or something? Can¡¯t say that I¡¯m all that surprised. It¡¯s probably the most interesting thing they¡¯ve heard about a place outside the home they know.¡± he stated dryly.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that¡­¡± Ruby did her best to ignore the arrogance in his tone. ¡°Most people couldn¡¯t even picture a world like yours even if I tried to explain it to them, especially down in Paiyi. I guess I had just figured someone who was chosen to help save the world would know a little bit more than what goes on in their own backyard.¡± the sound of her voice, Caine couldn¡¯t tell if she was subtly insulting him or simply expressing her thoughts. After she had insulted his performance in bed, it seemed like everything she had to say to him had some kind of back-handed insult. It got to the point that Ruby had to ask him if she really sounded as mean-spirited as he made her out to sound, or if perhaps he was projecting his feelings of inadequacy onto her. When he couldn¡¯t decisively conclude, all she said was, ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± and the two didn¡¯t speak much for the rest of the journey, unless it was important.


    Caine didn¡¯t say anything to her most recent comment, and his lack of a reply gave her the signal to start walking into the opening of the cave, making Caine follow without a word. The entrance had been flat ground for a good several hundred feet before it declined into a downhill slant with the occasional small stair case engraved into the ground. The entire cave was just a tunnel big enough for two or three people to walk next to each other, and the ceiling hung just barely above Caine¡¯s fingertips whenever he stretched and yawned. He was slightly taller than most of the people he came across, but he could think of a couple people back home who would find walking through the tunnels a little cramped. The further they went downhill, the cooler the air began to become, and Caine could begin to smell moisture in the air. The caves were illuminated by larger crystals like the ones Ruby was using, placed on the ground, and they had shown brightly enough to see only a few feet ahead of you. Before the path would grow too dark, another crystal would be placed to light the pathway. It was a twenty-minute walk of silence between the two until they came between a fork in the path, allowing them to choose between six different tunnels to choose from.


    ¡°So¡­ did you have to memorize your way to the ceremony, or are we just going to guess?¡± Caine asked, and now that he thought about it, it was probably the question that oozed with the least amount of sarcasm that he had said during the last few days. He had hoped Ruby had seen it that way as well, because, for once, he was genuinely curious.


    ¡°Neither,¡± she said as she started to take out another small crystal and cupped it in her hands. She would walk to one of the entrances and look at the stone. Caine couldn¡¯t tell what she was doing until she got to the fourth entrance and the crystal started to give a small, faded glow. She started walking down the path without hesitation, and Caine was caught off guard by the decisiveness in her actions.


    ¡°What exactly are those crystal stone thingies?¡± Caine asked when he caught up to her pace.


    ¡°Magic.¡± was all she said.


    ¡°Ha-ha¡­¡± Caine said sarcastically. ¡°Seriously, though, I¡¯ve never seen any type of stone being able to glow or open doors or-¡±


    ¡°Magic.¡± she said once again, cutting him off. Based off their experiences together, her short answers were usually filled with blunt sarcasm, and it definitely felt like that were the case now.


    ¡°Okay, you know what? I¡¯ve been trying to be nice and considerate and watch my tone, but lately you¡¯ve been a bigger bitch than necessary.¡±


    ¡°Oh, my god...¡± Ruby¡¯s head fall into one of her hands as she forced a laugh of disbelief. She took a deep breath before looking at Caine, her eyes filled with an angry passion. But before she could say a single word, she paused for a moment and her aura seemed to deflate. ¡°You know what? You¡¯re not even worth it. We¡¯re almost done with this journey, so let¡¯s just get you to your poor, unfortunate wife and never have to see each other again.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? Why is my wife unfortunate? Do you know something about my future wife that I don¡¯t? Did something horrible happen to her?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she got paired up with you.¡± Ruby shot back, and started to walk into the darkness of the caves once again. Caine followed, but only after deciding not to go on a tangent about how lousy of company Ruby had been ever since they first slept together, just like she had insulted him weeks prior. But she seemed so fed up with trying to talk or communicate more than a few words at a time recently, and he thought perhaps it was best to leave laying dogs lie. She was right: their journey together was about to come to an end, and he had a whole other woman he was going to have to spend his life and have children with at the end of this cave.


    Caine was surprised when he had realized during the whole thirty days of travel, his wife wasn¡¯t something he had thought too much about during their trips. Admittedly, there had been a lot of stress between watching their backs and making sure they weren¡¯t being followed, the constant headbutting between him and Ruby about minor stuff, and -probably the most influential reason- Caine had his eyes set on just about every possible woman who could potentially sleep with him before his wedding day. If he was going to be stuck fucking one woman for the rest of his life, he wanted to make sure he got his fill in. But unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t possible with the hours they had to duck away and hide from civilization, the scarcely populated towns they resided in, and the fact that Ruby was always around. The first couple days, he had thought the possibility of a threesome would be possible, but those dreams were dashed the day she mentioned how much he lacked in the bedroom.


    Now that he was on his way to meet his bride, he was beginning to wonder what type of woman she was. Firstly, which country would she hail from? All he really knew about other nations were what he saw on TV and movies, and the occasional history lesson, but a lot of that stuff was stereotypes. He wondered if he would have one of the blue-haired beauties of silence and honor from Miizu? Or would he have a rural woman from Paiyi that he could blow her mind with the technology from Ryn? Or would he get a submissive church-going woman from Ghald, a woman who had never been with a man and he could train to meet his needs in the bedroom the way he liked it? The more he thought about it, the more he confirmed that a woman from Ghald would be the best for him. Sex aside, the Ghaldians were the second most advanced nation, so while Ryn¡¯s technological advancements may be impressive to a Ghaldian woman, it wouldn¡¯t totally shatter her world seeing as they had trains and a much more basic model of automobiles.


    Caine and Ruby continued on much of the next hour in silence before Caine broke the silence. They had traveled down identical looking tunnels and had found twelve other forks-in-the-road like before, each one of them having six entrances to different cave routes. When they had gone through the most recent tunnel, Caine couldn¡¯t help but wonder the progression of their trip.


    ¡°So¡­ are we almost there? We¡¯ve been traveling for more than an hour.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re about a third of the way there.¡± Ruby said plainly.


    ¡°A third?¡± Caine didn¡¯t mask his surprise. ¡°We still have two more hours of this bullshit left?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Ruby¡¯s voice oozed with sarcasm. ¡°Maybe we should have had a major planet-changing ceremony near the entrance for all the assassins and fanatics who don¡¯t want to see this ceremony happen to reach you. Or for just any average idiot like you to stumble upon sacred grounds. Because I¡¯m sure they didn¡¯t think about how having a three hour walk into some caves might be inconvenient after a 30-day goose-chase around the entire nation to avoid your death, but I¡¯ll let the higher ups know so they could work around your royal necessities, princess.¡±


    ¡°What is your deal?¡± Caine asked, exasperated. ¡°You¡¯ve been-¡±


    ¡°What? A bitch?¡± Ruby shot back, but her tone seemed calmer than Caine¡¯s did. ¡°Do you realize you¡¯ve used that word to explain any and all of my actions that seem to irritate you? Have you ever considered that you¡¯re a misogynistic prick who sees women as nothing but something to stick your dick in and make your food for you? And in case you¡¯re still butt-hurt about my comment about you lacking in the sack, I¡¯ve met plenty of guys who¡¯ve disappointed me in the bedroom, but every single one of them was more considerate of a person than you.¡± Ruby had hit a lot of points that Caine wasn¡¯t prepared to respond to, and his face didn¡¯t hide it. Ruby gave a heavy sigh of frustration. ¡°And trust me, if I was going to show you my bitchy side, you¡¯d know.¡± Ruby turned to continue on the path they were on, muttering something along the lines of her not believing she ever found him attractive at all. Caine followed her with a small gap between them for the remainder of the way to the ceremony.


    The next couple hours passed almost painlessly slow. If walking several miles in a dark and damp cave wasn¡¯t enough for Caine to complain about, the unspoken tension of him and Ruby had made his discomfort grow tenfold. The only times they spoke was to show him which path to take at a fork in the road or when to stop and take a small break; other than that, no other words were spoken between the two. But the two had noticed that the further they walked into the caves, the bigger and more frequent the crystals seemed to be popping up. At first, they were only placed along the floors, but they seemed to be sprouting along the walls and ceiling like mushrooms. Caine thought it was peculiar that the size of the magic crystals had grown so much larger than the speck Ruby carried around, but he said nothing about it aloud.


    The end of the path had come almost abruptly to Caine. They were walking when Ruby had stopped all of the sudden and pointed ahead of her. A few dozen feet ahead came a large opening that seemed to make the tunnel expand in height, shining with a brighter purple light that shone from the crystals.


    ¡°Well, the ceremony grounds are up ahead. Are you sure you want to go through with this?¡±


    Caine was about to answer with a rude comment, but thought better of it. But as soon as that thought had vanished, he couldn¡¯t help but think of why Ruby was asking that particular question. He had known Central Government employees to kill anybody who didn¡¯t cooperate with their plans. While he did have his concerns and doubts, this was the last place he wanted to admit them.


    ¡°I¡¯m one of the Children of the Moon, right? This is for the betterment of the world and shit. As much as a selfish prick that you think I am, I¡¯m not going to keep letting daemons roam around and kill people for hundreds of more years.¡±


    Ruby had held his gaze after his statement for a while, almost as if she were feeling out how much she believed his response. For the first time on their trip together, Caine had a growing uncomfortable feeling that his life may have been in immediate danger. He watched her every move, waiting for a moment she may reach from a hidden weapon of some sort like she did with her gun in the brothel.


    ¡°Alright,¡± was all she said and she walked towards the entrance of the ceremony ground. When Caine passed the entrance, he had seen several stone staircases that spiraled along the walls of a large room that was big enough to pack an entire sports event or concert inside. There had been sixteen holes in the ceiling that seemed to be a mile high, and with each hole it shone a light from the sun that acted like a spot light. He could see a few people on the ground floor that was a couple stories below them, and he could hear their voices bounce off the cave walls but couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying. In the center was a large stage that had a beautiful stained-glass back drop that stood a couple stories tall, but from the angle he had been walking down the stairs, he couldn¡¯t quite make out what it was.


    When he and Ruby made it to the ground floor, they headed toward the stage, and as they got close, Caine had seen five other people around his age and a dozen priests and nuns, all conversing in varied groups. Caine spotted one girl with black hair and glasses and clothing that looked like how people dressed back home, so he figured she must have been from a different city in Ryn than his hometown of Vern. There had been two people in tattered clothing and sandals with red-related colored hair, a woman with a bright fire truck red, and a young man who barely reached adulthood with maroon hair. He assumed the redheads came from Paiyi like he had heard all his life. There was a girl with forest-green hair in what looked like a uniform and knee-high socks, from Ghald, Caine suspected. The last person Caine concluded was from Miizu, a woman with blue hair who wore a kimono and a katana at her side. She the only person not talking to anybody, but instead sat on the edge of the stage cross legged and eyes closed, a person with bandages covering their face sat next to her, doing the same. Caine assumed they had been meditating, and thought it was a weird time to be doing so. He had heard of drinking, panicking, or spending time with loved ones before the ceremony, but he had never heard of people meditating before marriage.


    As he and Ruby got to the ground floor and made way to a priest who had eyed them and began greeting them, Caine finally got a good look at the stained-glass mural that caught his eye as he walked in. The image was a woman who was several times larger than any other person in the image, on her knees on the ground, looking down, and a tear spilling from her eye. A symbolic heart was on her chest, surrounded by a flame, but broken into five equal pieces. There had been four smaller sized people that had stared at each other with, what Caine guessed was, anger. There was a sea of ant sized people that surrounded the woman¡¯s legs, all carrying weapons or torches and going to war on each other. There was a couple dozen angel-looking people flying in the sky, shooting arrows at each other and the people on the ground as well.  It seemed to be a scene from a story about the goddess Sonova and the four demigods, but Caine didn¡¯t really know too much about the stories in the Svya other than the basic children¡¯s stories that were taught for lessons on morality.


    ¡°Ah, welcome!¡± the priest had announced as he got close to Ruby and Caine. ¡°Which one of you is going to be part of this miraculous ceremony today?¡± the priest looked overjoyed at the two of them. Caine had never seen somebody smile so broadly in his life¡­ well, not sober anyway.


    ¡°That would be this guy,¡± Ruby said as she pointed to Caine. ¡°Caine Bryer from the city of Vern in Ryn. Son of Adam, the leading scientist in his nation.¡± Caine had just noticed that she referred to Ryn as his nation, which made him wonder where she was originally from.


    ¡°Ah, Mr. Bryer, it is a pleasure to have you here today.¡± he smiled even more at Caine and looked at the two of them. ¡°I hope that your travels went along smoothly?¡±


    The two of them muttered quick responses in a flat, irritated manner about their journey, but that didn¡¯t seem to deter the priest from showing his joy.


    ¡°Well, whatever unfortunate situations you¡¯ve experienced have passed, and you can now relax around the stage area until the others have arrived. We imagine that the waiting shouldn¡¯t take long for the rest of the Children to get here for the ceremony. May I speak with you a moment, miss?¡± the priest was looking at Ruby. Ruby nodded, and looked at Caine, nodding her head and indicating he should sit down around the stage area. Caine reluctantly obeyed and made his way over.


    When he got to the stage, he took a seat on the edge, but distant enough from everybody else to not be forced to engage in a conversation of empty words and niceties. He was going to leave here with only one person, and he had no interest in getting to know anybody but his future wife, especially not any of the nuns or priests. As he sat, he watched Ruby talk to the priest that greeted them for a few minutes. There had been plenty of words exchanged between the two, but it didn¡¯t seem to be good nor bad, just professional.


    During the few minutes Ruby and the priest spoke, two more Children and their guides had joined the room. There was a super tall young man with a shaved, bald head, wearing a strange, silk black and white garb Caine had never seen before, and a necklace with large maroon beads the size of baseballs. He had a spear that seemed different than any other Caine had ever seen before; the spearhead was long and curved, a weapon with a good amount of reach for those who knew how to wield it. The thing that was most captivating about this man was his size, both in height in girth. Caine wouldn¡¯t say the man was fat, his physique suggested that he spent plenty of time physically training and growing stronger, but there was a roundness to him that Caine couldn¡¯t help but think came genetically. But he was at least a whole head taller than Caine, who was already standing at a solid six feet.


    The girl behind the large young man was a young woman who had really caught Caine¡¯s eye. She had red hair that reached her shoulders, and a more stylistic version of the style of clothing that the other redheads of Paiyi had worn. She wore glasses, something Caine would have thought was too advanced for the people of Paiyi, but perhaps that was his own fault for only really knowing stereotypes of the other nations. But as much as he enjoyed the look of her figure- full, perky tits and a nice bubble-butt to go along with her toned legs and stomach- it was the look in her eyes that really grabbed his attention. There was something both wise beyond her years, yet still naive, in the way she looked and held herself. There seemed to be a sense of child-like wonder to the world as well as a knowledgeable mind. Caine couldn¡¯t put it into words any better than that, but her looks mixed with her body was more than enough to make him wish and hope that this would be his future wife.


    Caine kept tabs on the two new comers without staring like a creep, and would occasionally look over at the Paiyian girl with the glasses whenever he felt she wasn¡¯t looking his way. The more he looked and admired her, the more he concluded that he liked what she had to offer. Caine couldn¡¯t help but begin to imagine what she must have looked like naked and-


    ¡°Are you Caine Bryer?¡± a woman¡¯s voice made him jump a little with how sudden and close it was, and when Caine looked to his right to see the bandage faced person who sat with the Miizunese girl standing a couple feet from him. He never heard or sensed her walking towards him, so it took all his strength to not utter a shriek of surprise when he had seen her. He swallowed his nerves before speaking.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me. And you are¡­?¡± Caine waited for a name, or any type of response in that nature, but the woman simply gazed up and down, sizing him up. He could see no part of this woman¡¯s face other than her soul-piercing eyes, and Caine felt that was more than enough to tell him the woman was dangerous if you crossed her. Her aura alone ran a chill down his spine, and the fact that Caine couldn¡¯t put a finger on the reason why made it seem even deadlier than the original fear. But that ended when the bandaged woman gave a short chuckle.


    ¡°Do yourself a favor, and make sure you take care of your wife. I don¡¯t want to hear that you¡¯ve been mistreating her in the future.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you know who my wife is?¡± Caine couldn¡¯t help but feel a little excited to possibly know which one of the ladies that would be in the ceremony would be the one to come home with him. But the woman only gave another small laugh.


    ¡°Only the gods know who your wife is. Not even the nuns and priests here know who is marrying who. They are merely hear to bear witness to the ceremony.¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡± Caine said unsteadily. ¡°So, if you don¡¯t know who my wife is, why are you warning me?¡± a realization came to Caine in that moment. ¡°And how do you know my name? Have we met before?¡±


    ¡°More than once,¡± even though Caine couldn¡¯t see her face, he could tell there was a smile in her voice. ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you don¡¯t remember meeting. We¡¯ve met during some pretty forgettable circumstances.¡±


    The way she spoke sounded like she may have had more to say or reveal to Caine, but the two sat in silence, just looking at one another.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the end of the line for the two of us.¡± Caine heard Ruby¡¯s voice to his left, and looked to see her walking towards him from where the group of priests were standing. Caine turned to his right to say something to the bandaged woman, but she had vanished. Not only was she not anywhere near him in the two seconds he had turned his head, but it seemed as though she had disappeared from the large room entirely.


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving already?¡± Caine asked slowly, still looking around to see if he had just missed where the bandaged woman had walked towards, but the fact was that she was gone.


    ¡°Yeah. I mean, I did my job. Had to deal with your bullshit for a month and drop you off. You¡¯re all checked in and ready to waste some poor girls¡¯ life for the rest of your days.¡±


    ¡°Well thank you for your services and sacrifice.¡± Caine spat sarcastically. ¡°It must have been so hard for a perfect angel like yourself.¡±


    ¡°If you keep up the same attitude, it¡¯s your wife who¡¯s gonna be nagging about the same shit. I mean, at least learn to be a gentleman in the bedroom and give back, huh?¡±


    ¡°Bye, Ruby.¡± Caine said flatly, showing Ruby he was done with both her attitude and their conversation. Ruby scoffed at the rude attitude and turned around and held up one hand that gave him the finger as she walked away and back towards the stairs that took her up to the main entrance of the room. She took one last look at Caine, and then the rest of the members in the room, before turning around and making her journey back towards the surface. It was going to take a few hours, and she didn¡¯t have any intention on hanging out in such a dull area for too long, especially when she wasn¡¯t invited to stay to watch the ceremony happen.


    Ruby had walked for almost two hours, thinking about Caine and his spoiled way of living the entire trip. His apathetic way towards treating others and the world was enough to infuriate her. I can¡¯t believe I was actually excited to sleep with him at first¡­ she thought. She shuttered whenever she thought back on that night and how much disappointment arose out of it. Sure, he had some positive aspects about him. He didn¡¯t succumb to his anger and start throwing fists whenever he got upset like some of the men in Ruby¡¯s life. He had a way of making a girl feel beautiful and special, even if she had recognized that it was all part of seducing ladies into the bedroom. But the infuriating part about him was that he was always self-seeking and looking for ways to better his experience, but he seemed to be totally unaware of his selfishness. Man, so many of my girlfriends are going to be bummed when they hear that their favorite model is a shitheel.


    Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a couple of voices coming from the direction she was heading towards. Ruby knew that each Child of the Moon was guided by someone in their own individual path, so to hear voices going down the path that she and Caine had taken brought concern. She padded down the small handgun she kept concealed to make sure it was exactly where she thought if she needed it at a moment¡¯s notice. But in her experience, it was always best to appear innocent instead of blindly attacking when it came to unknown forces. Plus, people usually assumed a good-looking girl like her wasn¡¯t capable of handling herself in physical situations, which gave her the advantage of surprise.


    Ruby crept down the tunnel slowly, hearing the voice grow closer and closer, but the path was too dark for where the voices were. She tried to peer through the darkness and took her time to not make any sudden, loud noises. Ruby paused when she had seen the same dim, purple light that came from the magic stones make its way closer to her, and the two voices kept getting louder and clearer.


    ¡°I told you we should have taken the third tunnel at the last fork!¡± she heard a young man¡¯s voice state while trying to hold back his apparent frustration.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, have you traveled using a magic stone before?¡± a female voice asked facetiously. ¡°We were told to listen to the stone, so that¡¯s what I¡¯m doing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯ve been down here for like an hour, and I¡¯m not seeing any indication that we¡¯re getting any closer.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t the dossier say that the estimated time of traveling to the core of this supposed to take a few hours, even for those who know the path? Do you even read those things, or do you still skim every other paragraph?¡±


    ¡°I told you, that was one mission. How long are you going to keep that over-¡±


    The man stopped talking as they came into view of Ruby. The three had a stared at each other for a moment, gauging the threat level of each other. Ruby saw that the young man had black hair with a pattern of white stripes along his hair, and the young woman had straight, golden, blonde hair... colors she had never seen before.


    ¡°Who are you two?¡± Ruby was the one to break the silence. The man and woman exchanged looks at each other and then eyed Ruby up and down once more. She knew they were trying to figure out if she were a threat or not. She made sure that her body was ready to react to any type of surprise attack without tensing up and showing any indication that she would be prepared for a fight. Her fingers ached to inch toward the handle of her gun, but she knew that that movement could be mistaken as an attack.


    ¡°Us?¡± the woman responded. ¡°We¡¯re the added security for this Ceremony. Who the hell are you?¡± Ruby couldn¡¯t tell if that was the truth, or just a vague lie.


    ¡°I¡¯m one of the guides to take one of them down to the marriage ceremony. But now that he¡¯s down there, I¡¯m done working and on my way out of here.¡± Ruby spoke, but kept her eyes open for any swift moments. She didn¡¯t like the fact that she was alone in a small, tight tunnel with these two; it didn¡¯t promote the best scenarios of winning a fight.


    ¡°Wait¡­ You work for Central Government, right?¡± the man asked her, and she could feel a bit of the tension ease off as he asked the question.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s who gave me the job of guiding that idiot down here,¡± Ruby didn¡¯t mean for her frustration of the journey with Caine to spill out, but she refused to look ashamed about the truth of her feelings. The couple had sighed of relief, and all tension had suspended when they heard Ruby¡¯s response.


    ¡°Oh, thank Sonova.¡± the woman breathed with ease. ¡°Well, we¡¯re Phantoms on our way to a security gig. My name¡¯s Claire, and this is my partner Sage.¡±  Claire had extended an arm out for a friendly handshake.


    ¡°Ruby.¡± she gave her name as she shook hands with both of the Phantoms.


    ¡°Well, Ruby, you wouldn¡¯t know exactly how much farther we have to go, do you? We¡¯ve only been at it for an hour, but I¡¯ve got a big baby to babysit and I¡¯m sure it¡¯s almost time for his nap with all the whining and complaining he¡¯s been doing.¡± Sage shot her a dirty look as she described him.


    ¡°Oh, luckily for you guys, you have two whole more hours.¡± Ruby shook her head and rolled her eyes facetiously to show how much of a tried and tiring a walk it had been.


    ¡°See? What did I tell you?¡± Claire seethed at Sage.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I heard her¡­¡± he waved her off.


    ¡°If it helps you guys at all, I noticed that we never, ever walked down the first tunnel on the left side. And most of the tunnels we took were the second, third or fifth a good deal of the time.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Claire asked. Ruby could see in Claire¡¯s eyes that she was trying to map out the entire route they¡¯ve been traveling and the information Ruby just shared. ¡°Well, that might actually be of help. Thanks.¡± Claire extended her hand again for a handshake. ¡°Well, maybe if life is kind, we can meet again or work together in a place that¡¯s not a dark little shit hole.¡± she joked.


    ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t mind-¡±


    As soon as Ruby had taken Claire¡¯s hand, she felt the cold steel of a blade pierce her throat. She had felt the blood spill out of her before she even realized that Claire had somehow sneaked a dagger into her hand and stabbed with precision and swiftness. Blood welled into her mouth as she felt the blade rip out from the side of her throat, and her body went limp as Claire let go of her hand. She gasped for air, but gagged like a landed fish on the pool of blood that seeped into her torn-open throat and pooled around her head. Ruby felt the warmth floating out of her body, and her eyes were growing heavier by the second. She reached out towards Claire and Sage, as if it were actually going to do something.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you can¡¯t be blunt and straight-forward when it comes to these types of kills. Why do you have to act like you¡¯re befriending them? Why not just kill them from the get-go?¡± Sage complained casually.


    ¡°Like a savage?¡± Claire sneered, sounding genuinely offended. ¡°I¡¯m more civil than that.¡±


    The last thing Ruby ever saw was Claire and Sage retreat into the darkness towards the ceremony ground after they stepped over her like a roadkill, with the chilling realization that nobody was probably ever going to find her body.


    Then the darkness consumed her.


    * * *


    ¡°Alright ladies and gentlemen, now that we¡¯re all here, let¡¯s get this ceremony under way, shall we?¡± one of the priests spoke, almost overwhelmingly cheerful. It seemed to be a common trait among the priesthood of this faction, while the nuns seemed to hold a more practiced and practical stoic approach to the situation. To Daan¡¯s experience, it seemed to always be the very opposite. Not that he minded the change at all, it was just something he wondered if anybody else had realized.  The other two people who had recently arrived from Ghald weren¡¯t people he had recognized, and that was considering if they were from Krepki like he was, which he doubted based on the clothing and hair styles of the other guy and two ladies.


    Daan had arrived a few hours ago, and when he arrived, he was the eighth of the Children to have arrived, leaving half of the group to appear. When they had arrived, his guide talked to the priests, but had left without saying a word to him. He had watched her talk to a couple of the priests, and point towards his direction mid-conversation, and shortly after she simply went out the same way they came in, not saying a word nor looking in his direction. She clearly thought nothing of Daan, but he was happy to have her negativity leave his life without his need to act polite for a final goodbye.


    Two priests had spoken to him shortly after he found somewhere to sit comfortably, asking minor questions about who he was and which city he was coming from. As he answered one, the other had written down his response on a clipboard, making Daan wonder what they were taking notes for, and if they did this every single time there was a Ceremony of the Moon. When they were done with their quick questionnaire, they told him to feel free to chat and talk with anybody, so long as they stayed in the large room with the stage, and to come to any of the priests or nuns if he had any questions. Daan thanked them and watched them leave for a moment before turning his attention to the other Children in the room.


    Daan, who was usually somewhat shy even in the most comfortable of spaces, was intrigued by the looks and demeanor of all the others in the same position he was thrown into. As nervous as he might have been to talk to random stranger who just so happened to all be getting married in under the same circumstances, he had to remind himself that this was a rare opportunity that very few people have ever gotten since the barrier that divided the nations went up. He was able to talk and chat with four different people from the three different nations, and three strangers in his own land. There was a lot of information that he could learn about the world in this room. After a few moments of gathering his courage, he made way to the group closest to him, which was the group of Paiyians who were talking among each other. Two men and one of the young ladies chatted earnestly to each other, while one of the girls had sat off to the side of the group, within ear shot but more an observer of the conversation than one to join in.


    He had introduced himself to the group when there was a break in their conversation, and they politely responded with the same courtesy. But as Daan tried to find topics of conversation, he had felt there was a forced politeness about the group, as if they were uncomfortable talking to him for too long, but were too polite to turn him away. It was also hard to find any type of common ground, seeing as they didn¡¯t have the same type of buildings, foods, or even religious appreciation that the people of Ghald had. When he felt like the conversation started to feel too forced for comfort, he made his way to the woman who sat outside the group to listen in.


    ¡°H-hey there. I¡¯m Daan, not sure if you heard when I spoke to your friends a moment ago.¡± he said, extending his hand for a handshake. But when he looked at the woman¡¯s face after he spoke, she looked bewildered.


    ¡°Miranda...¡± she said slowly, studying his face with an intensity that made Daan feel more uncomfortable than he had with the group he tried to speak to. Daan didn¡¯t know if this was an odd Paiyian custom he was unaware of, so he waited a moment before making any type of comment.


    ¡°I...is there something on my face?¡± he brushed at his cheeks gently with his hands in case there was, and the girl¡¯s heavy gaze snapped out of it at the response of his voice.


    ¡°Oh, no. It¡¯s just¡­ uh¡­ Your voice¡­ it sounds really familiar...¡± she spoke slowly as she studied his face.


    ¡°Familiar? Really?¡± Daan knew for a fact that he hadn¡¯t ever stepped foot outside the city of Krepki before this ceremony, let alone to any of the other nations. ¡°Do you have any friends who might sound like me or anything?¡± he asked Miranda.


    ¡°No... not friends, to be exact...¡± the way she had replied made Daan feel that she was leaving something out, but he couldn¡¯t be certain what reason she would withhold any kind of information based on what they had been chatting about. As polite as Miranda had tried to be, Daan could tell that she was trying to continue to study his face without appearing like a creep.


    ¡°Well, hi, there!¡± a bright and overly cheery voice exploded next to Daan. He had looked to his right and seen a girl with forest green pigtails and a black and gold outfit with white trim, an outfit that looked similar to the girl¡¯s uniforms from the church groups he had gone to school with. The girl, it seemed, didn¡¯t have a direction in her statement, but rather was greeting everyone within ear shot. When people finally looked at her, she continued with the same hyper energy she started with. ¡°I¡¯m Emma! And I am really excited to meet you all before the gods decide which one of you guys might be my husband!¡±


    Daan shot a look over at Miranda while Emma had everyone¡¯s attention to see if Miranda was still staring at him. To his surprise, the moment he looked over, Miranda had turned her head away, as if trying to act like she wasn¡¯t just looking at him. I don¡¯t understand why this girl is so interested in me. It¡¯s clear she¡¯s thinking of the wrong person. I¡¯ve never even been to Paiyi.


    ¡°Oh. My. God!¡± Emma shrieked after the other Paiyians had introduced themselves to her. She rushed up to Miranda with wide and excited eye. ¡°I love the way you cut your hair. I¡¯ve never seen this hair style before; I didn¡¯t know that a girl¡¯s hair could be so short and look so good. Have you ever considered adding a blooming Paiyian lily in your hair during festivals? I imagine it would look even lovely. Did you cut it yourself? I knew a girl once who tried to cut her own hair, and it looked terrible at first, but she got better at it the more she did it.¡± Emma spewed a thousand words a second, barely giving one a chance to comprehend what she was talking about before moving on to her next question or statement. Daan decided it was best to move along and try talking to others, both because he wanted to avoid the Miranda girl¡¯s gaze as well as not be associated with Emma just because they came from the same nation.


    Daan walked up to a group of people with dark hair and bright, flashy clothes. Half of them had been looking at a small electric box that seemed to grab their whole attention. He figured they were from Ryn, the nation of advanced technology, because Daan had never seen their fashion nor the boxes they were holding onto. One of the Rynians held up his box to the sky and moved his arm around slowly, announcing to the others that he, ¡°wasn¡¯t getting any kind of service down here¡± and asked if the others had any luck.


    Daan approached the group, a lot more reserved this time after the Paiyian people seemed to not be as interested in him as he did in meeting other new people. He walked up to the group, and one of the women was the only one to pick up their heads as he approached, but her attention quickly went back to the electric boxes she was holding onto.


    ¡°Um¡­ hi, guys. Just wanted to introduce myself since there¡¯s a chance I might be marrying one of the ladies, or the men might move into my hometown after the ceremony.¡± Daan was about to explain that he could offer information about his town or country, but he noticed nobody seemed to be paying attention to what he was saying, they were all focused on their boxes. A gave a short, sad, ¡°Well, I¡¯m Daan.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Kat.¡± one of the girls said without looking up from the contraption in her hands. Another young man looked up and looked at Daan with curiosity, but he eventually went back to looking at the electric box in his hand as well. Nobody else had given him the time of day, which made him feel ready to leave the group, but he was curious as to what had everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°What are those?¡± Daan asked, pointing at the boxes that had everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°These are called cell phones,¡± the girl named Kat had answered without taking her eyes off of her own phone. ¡°In Ryn, everyone uses these to stay in contact with one another, or send information, or pictures or videos¡­ whatever you want to send to somebody, really.¡±


    ¡°Videos?¡± Daan repeated slowly.


    ¡°They¡¯re pretty much moving pictures with sound.¡± Kat explained without much interest in Daan¡­ or anything outside her phone, it seemed.  But she paused for a moment at looked at Daan.¡°Wait, you guys do know what pictures are, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we are not that far behind you guys!¡± Daan said defensively, but he knew he didn¡¯t have any real idea of what type of other technologies Ryn had that could trump anything remotely flashy to those who lived in Ghald. But photography was something that was relatively new to Ghald; Daan could remember nuns and priests discussing the concept of what it meant to take a photo when he was first brought into the church from the orphanage years back. The best description he heard was that it was a lot like a painting, but seen with the same clarity and vividness as if you were looking at it through your own eyes. Daan couldn¡¯t imagine images that moved and made sound like in reality being able to fit in such a small contraption.


    ¡°Hey!¡± one of the Rynian men spoke up, the same guy who looked at Daan while he and Kat spoke just a moment ago. He was looking directly at Daan, eyes wide and full of accusations. ¡°Can you say, ¡®Your marriage isn¡¯t a bad thing¡¯ for me?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Daan asked, befuddled at the random task asked of him.


    ¡°Say it!¡± the man repeated. ¡°¡®Your marriage isn¡¯t a bad thing.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him.¡± Kat said. Daan didn¡¯t have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s Caine. He¡¯s a model back home, so he thinks he¡¯s more special than everyone and doesn¡¯t know how to talk to people with decency.¡±


    Daan looked back at the young man known as Caine. The bewilderment in Caine¡¯s eyes as he made his demand. First was that Miranda girl, and now this Caine person was acting weird¡­ Is somebody from every nation a little off in the head? Daan wondered.


    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t go!¡± Caine shouted. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Daan.¡± Daan responded as friendly as he could without showing his discomfort show. Caine looked at him blankly, as if he didn¡¯t know what Daan had just said.


    ¡°Dan?¡± Caine tried to repeat his name, but the pronunciation was off.


    ¡°No. Close, but it¡¯s Daan.¡±


    ¡°...Dawn?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ almost.¡± Daan said uncomfortably. Daan realized it was probably a lot easier to hear the difference between all those names when a lot of ancient Ghaldian was still occasionally used even when speaking the common tongue.


    ¡°It¡¯s Daan.¡± Kat spat back. ¡°Hard D, than there¡¯s no pitch change over the use of the A sound. It¡¯s like John, but with a D. You really haven¡¯t heard the Ghaldians speak?¡±


    ¡°So¡­ Don?¡± Caine tried again.


    ¡°Do you not hear how you¡¯re dropping the pitch between the O and the N? It¡¯s not Don. It¡¯s Daan.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear a fucking difference!¡± Caine shouted at Kat. That was the moment Daan decided it was best to not interact with the group any further and try his luck talking to the Miizunese group.


    He walked up to the group of the blue-haired nation, and greeted them with his name. For the first time all afternoon, he was greeted back with both respect and their full attention. He had introduced himself to each one of them at a time, one girl and two of the men, although only one of the men had taken the time to introduce himself by name. It was the tallest person in the Miizunese group¡­ actually, he was taller than everybody in the room, now that Daan had looked around. He had a shaved, bald head with a large, curved spear on his back, and large bulbous, maroon beads that hung around his neck.


    ¡°I am Hiroki from Jyoguri, a small village in northern Miizu.¡± he had addressed himself with a bow of respect. For somebody so big and carrying such a large weapon on his back, Hiroki spoke with a surprising gentleness.


    ¡°So, are you guys excited or nervous about getting married today?¡±


    ¡°The gods will choose for us who they choose, despite our feeling, yes?¡± the one girl in the small group had spoken. That¡¯s when Daan had noticed another Miizunese woman who had been off by herself, meditating. ¡°Should we complain about the destiny the gods have in store for us?¡±


    ¡°No, we shouldn¡¯t.¡± Daan said with a smile, finally feeling like he had found someone who had a common ideology about how to act when fate has new plans for you. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize the people of Miizu were as religious as us.¡±


    ¡°It has far less to do with religion as it does honor and duty.¡± the other young man in the group spoke, and the other Miizunese had seemed to nod their heads in full agreement. ¡°As the goddess Yukina has spoken in your- what was your holy book called again? The Svya? She says that we should view the world as it is, and not as our emotions state it should be. If the gods want us to marry and birth children to help fulfill peace in the world, we are more than happy to be a part of the process, or even giving our life to the cause if it must come to that.¡±


    ¡°Does¡­ does the ceremony actually have any kind of threat or danger that could end one of our lives?¡± Daan asked nervously. He hadn¡¯t heard the ceremony to be dangerous at all, but perhaps there was something the other nations knew that he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Not if you¡¯re a man.¡± Hiroki spoke with a smile, and the others seemed to be amused by some kind of joke Daan didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Daan¡¯s head tilted to the side as he asked his question.


    ¡°It¡¯s not rare to die from childbirth,¡± one of the girls spoke motherly as she explained. ¡°But it is an honorable death.¡±


    The group continued to discuss things that were both honorable and worthy of doing, some of which Daan couldn¡¯t agree more, and other things Daan couldn¡¯t wrap his head around. When they began talking about a special kind of honorable suicide that seemed to be common placed in the Miizunese, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like getting away from the conversation. When he looked away from the group, his eyes fell on the woman meditating by herself. When the conversation seemed to give him an opening to leave, he politely parted ways and went to make his way to the woman. He approached her quietly, not wanting to disturb her too abruptly, trying to think of something to say to break the ice.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡± the woman asked with her eyes still closed, her voice monotone, not angry or upset that meditation was being interrupted.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, um¡­ well, first off, hi, I¡¯m Daan.¡± he said, caught off guard by the fact she knew he was standing in front of her without evening opening her eyes. But when he spoke, her eyes seemed to shoot wide open and she quickly got a glance at his face.


    ¡°Motoko...¡± she said, but suspicion was in her voice and eyes.


    ¡°So... Do you usually meditate before a big ceremony like this?¡± Daan was trying to find anything to talk about, but he felt foolish the moment the words came pouring out his mouth. Out of all things to talk about, you decide to ask her about meditation? He scolded himself.


    ¡°Usually before something important, yes, I¡¯ll meditate. I want to make sure my mind is in the right place and not to fall prey to petty emotions.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense...¡± Daan said uneasily, feeling that this conversation, too was beginning to feel forced. But then Motoko asked a question that Daan never thought he would have ever heard:


    ¡°Say¡­ Have you been hearing voices in your head lately?¡± she questioned. Daan looked at her as his eyes shot open with recognition. Daan didn¡¯t know what to say, and when he didn¡¯t say anything, Motoko tried further. ¡°Perhaps a voice that sounds a lot like yours that nobody else can hear?¡±


    ¡°How¡­ how did you know that?¡± Daan asked, wondering if the ceremony was about to bring further surprises like the day he met his shape-changing guide. Was this Miizunese girl an answer to all the things the voices had been saying the last couple of months?


    ¡°Because I¡¯ve been hearing the voices in my head as well...¡± Motoko said nonchalantly. There was a moment of silence that she had seemed to be trying to think and recall on something. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but notice that that redhead girl with the glasses looked at you funny when you first spoke to her, when I took a small break from meditating. And then that man from Ryn was yelling at you to repeat something, which I¡¯m not totally sure, but I imagine might have been something the voice in his head had told him.


    ¡°So, what¡­? Do you think everyone here in the ceremony has heard these voices in their heads?¡± Daan asked, starting to look at the other people joined in the ceremony under a new light.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s it...¡± Motoko s thoughtfully. ¡°It seems to me that you, me and those other two are the only ones who hear your voice and think it sounds familiar. But I do think that it¡¯s interesting that each one of us is from one of the four different nations. That feels too specific to be coincidental.¡±


    Before Daan could utter another word, one of the priests had made the announcement that it was time to get the ceremony underway. The priest instructed that everybody gather on the stage, and stand underneath one of the sixteen spots filled with the sunlight of the setting sun poking through the ceiling. The groups slowly began making way to the stage and the priests and nuns began to take their spots for the ceremony to begin.


    Miranda was one of the last to get on the stage, her eyes and mind constantly went back to the young man who introduced himself, Daan. She had been watching him ever since he talked to her and the familiarity of his voice hit her hard. She watched him as he tried to talk to the Rynian group, and noticed only one girl really spoke to him. He got the same kind of results with the Paiyian group, whom she suspected of being wary of a Ghaldian with their increase in technology they were supposed to stay away from. The Rynian girl who did speak to him didn¡¯t seem to have any interest in Daan, only being polite in answering his questions nobody else in the group seemed to care to answer. But then a very cute boy from Ryn exploded and demanded that Daan repeat a phrase, and that interaction caught Miranda¡¯s curiosity. While she didn¡¯t know how to ask Daan if he had been hearing the same voices speaking in her head, she could ask imagine it being easier to ask him to repeat a phrase she heard before to confirmed whether it was the same voice or not. The Ryn boy also looked at Daan with the same interest as if a unicorn had appeared in the room, something else that told her that he had possibly heard the same voices as her in his head. Miranda wondered if whoever it was that might have also heard these voices were hearing the exact same phrases or not.


    She watched Daan speak to the Miizunese group, and noticed the same type of polite indifference. He had chatted with the group for a moment, but nobody in the group of three seemed to pay any special attention to what Daan was saying or anything about his voice, until he walked to the lonely woman meditating. Miranda couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying, but the woman said something to him and he looked at her with a similar look he gave both Miranda and the Rynian boy who yelled at him. But right before the Priests made the announcement to head towards the stage, the woman said something to him that made Daan¡¯s face look as though she had unearthed some sort of deep secret. Miranda couldn¡¯t help but wonder what exactly they were chatting about.


    Her attention was taken away from Daan as she got into one of the spot lights, and she looked at the other 23 chosen Children taking their places. Her nerves started to return, and she could feel butterflies in her stomach when she remembered that in a matter of an hour or two, she would be with a man who would not only be a part of her life for the remainder of her days, but will be the father of their child or children, who could possibly become the savior that rid the world of the barrier between nations and the daemons. She eyed the non-Paiyian men lined up in their spotlights and tried to imagine who would be the ones who would be a good guardian towards a savior of the world, who would be a good father, who would be a good lover.


    The men from Ryn had piqued her interest with their flashy clothes and hair styles. Her grandmother was from Ryn, so the interest to see what her grandmother¡¯s native land must have been like was enticing. And while both men looked good, the taller one who yelled towards Daan earlier had been probably the best-looking man in the room. There had been a time when he caught her looking at him and gave a flirtatious wink before turning his attention to a nun who told him to focus on what the priest was about to say. The men from Ghald weren¡¯t exactly her cup of tea, at least not in the lover¡¯s department. Daan, as kind and gentle as he had seemed, was shorter than every man in the room, and shorter than half of the women as well. One other Ghaldian man was a taller, lanky, zit-covered young man who seemed to an air of arrogance about him. Even though Miranda hadn¡¯t spoken with him, his entire aura was a turn off. Out of the Miizunese men, they had seemed equally respectful and strong, but the one with the large spear attached to his back was taller than everybody in the room and one of the tallest men she¡¯d laid eyes on. At first, she thought that their size difference would be comical, seeing as she was a medium height. But then she remembered ladies saying that bigger size helped with things in the bedroom, and even though she had known they were talking about the size of one¡¯s manhood, she wondered if physical size was an indicator of what was to be down there.


    ¡°Now, if I could have your attention please!¡± the priest who greeted everyone when they first arrived. ¡°Now that we have everybody here, and now that the sun has started to set on the horizon, it is time to begin the ceremony. Now, the Sisters will be coming around with the Blood Gauntlet and will prick your finger with a blade. Please allow a couple of drops of your blood into the gauntlet, and we will offer the blood to the gods, who will be the ones to choose your mates.¡±


    The loudmouth Ghaldian girl, Emma, had shot her hand up for a question.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but we have to ask that you please keep quiet until the ceremony is over. Our Sisters and Fathers will be chanting special prayers that allow the energy from the heavens to meet in this special spot. Any vocalization outside of the prayers may interrupt the ceremony, and the last thing we want to do is delay the salvation of the world.¡±


    Miranda watched Emma¡¯s hand slink back down as she gave a small pout.  The other priests and nuns started to move towards each Child, mumbling in a trance-like repetition in a language none of the Children had known while one of the nuns carried a maroon gauntlet covered with an assortment of gold, diamonds and other precious jewels. They started with one of the Rynian women and pricked her index finger with a knife and held it over the gauntlet until a few drops had fallen inside and moved down the line. Not even five minutes had passed before everyone had drawn their portion of blood, and once it was collected, the nun holding the gauntlet brought it to the foot of the stained-glass monument while the other nuns and priests left the stage and encircled it, still chanting their words. Once each member of the church members had been placed in their designated area, they stood still, but kept saying their chant. The main priest joined the Children on the stage and looked up to the ceiling.


    ¡°Oh, great Mother Sonova!¡± the priest bellowed as he closed his eyes and outreached his arms towards the heavens. ¡°Hear our words and prayer! We bestow upon you the chosen Children who, with your blessing, will give birth to our savior. We offer their blood as proof of their worthiness! May you bless our generation, or make the next step to revealing your healing glory! We pray that you join these twenty-four blessed souls in a holy matrimony that you find worthy, dear Mother! Let them be guided by your love and mercy!¡±


    The priest dropped his arms to his side before getting on his knees to kneel with the utmost humility, flat on his chest before rising back to his knees. Once on his knees again, he looked back at the ceiling and made hand gestures that Miranda wasn¡¯t sure what they were to mean, but it seemed to be a spiritual end to the speech. He had slowly gotten up and off the stage, and nothing had happened for a moment other than the continuous chanting of the other church leaders.


    But just as Miranda- and most likely most of the other Children- wanted to look around and ask what else was supposed to happen, a few of the spot lights the Children stood under started to illuminate in the same purple hue as the crystals of magic they had seen walking in. Then a few more started to shine, and before the minute was over, all twenty-four were shining a bright purple light that started to become blinding. Miranda was forced to close her eyes and put her hands in front of her face, and there was a breeze that started to whirl about in the room that came from nowhere. The light seemed to grow brighter whenever she tried to peek and see what was going on, and the wind started to change from a breeze into a small whirlwind. There was a loud CRACK sound that resembled thunder that had started to go off every few seconds. The winds grew even stronger, and Miranda felt herself be gently lifted from the ground.


    ¡°THE CHOSEN HAVE ARRIVED!¡± the sound of several voices speaking in unison spoke from the heavens followed by several more CRACKING sounds that boomed and echoed all over the room. Miranda felt her body being twirled about, losing track of which way was up or down at one point, but never being able to open her eyes and see what was happening. The span of the wind seemed to be enclosing in on itself, and the loud booming sounds seemed to getting closer to Miranda, to the point that she felt like it was going off right next to her ear. But with a dizzying suddenness, Miranda felt her feet hit the ground and all the lights and sounds disappeared as if nothing happened in the first place.


    When Miranda cracked open her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that her body had indeed moved to the center of the stage, right in front of the stained-glass mural when she was originally near the edge of the stage. The next thing she had noticed was that the Miizunese man with the large spear was standing only a couple of feet to her right, which made her jump with surprise. After that, she looked passed him and noticed that everybody was coupled in twelve groups, each with a man and woman. She had seen Daan standing next to the only Rynian girl with glasses who had spoken to him earlier,. The Rynian man who yelled at Daan was standing next to the Miizunese woman who was meditating a majority of her time in this cave. But before she could lay eyes on any other couple, she had seen the face of the main priest, eyes as wide as saucers and his mouth hanging open in shock and awe.


    ¡°Th... that was the first time we have heard the gods speak like that in over a hundred years...¡± the priest said breathlessly. His eyes fell to the floor as he tried to make sense of what was happening. As far as Miranda understood, their ceremony happened nearly every twenty-to-thirty years, but she had also heard that it had been a long time since anyone had heard the voices of the gods. Did that mean there were generations of Children of the Ceremony that didn¡¯t hear the same messages they just did? And if not, what was the difference between the groups and what they had to do next? The longer the priest looked confused and bewildered the more questions came to Miranda.  And it didn¡¯t help that every other priest and nun seemed to be either just as baffled or looked towards the main priest for answers.


    ¡°MAY YOU ENDURE YOUR TRIALS AND SUFFERING TO RECEIVE THE GIFTS OF THE GODS!¡± The voices boomed once more, but there seemed to be nothing else after everyone stood motionless for a moment. Miranda looked around the room once more, and the nuns and priests started to gather and whisper to each other. Miranda guessed they were trying to figure out what was to happen just like she had been wondering. She had looked towards the other couples and noticed they looked around with just as much confusion as the church members, if not more.


    ¡°Umm¡­ excuse me, Miss?¡± she heard a soft voice speak towards her, forcing her to turn to the Miizunese man she stood beside. ¡°My apologies, I never learned your name, but you have something...¡± he gestured and stared directly at her forehead. Miranda ran her fingers over the area he was staring at, but she couldn¡¯t feel anything other than skin. No matter how much she rubbed her fingers over it, she felt nothing, but he kept staring. She was about to ask what it was he saw until she had seen a few other couples talk among each other in surprised hushed tones. She had looked and seen that Daan had a glowing purple number 2 on his forehead, and he was rubbing at his forehead like she had just been, and seemed to be just as lost as to what the lady next to him was telling him about.


    ¡°Is it a number on my forehead?¡± Miranda asked.


    ¡°Yes. You have the number 3 on yours¡­ And it seems that Motoko, a great warrior leader from the main city near my village has a number¡­ and the man standing next to her as well...¡±


    Miranda looked, and sure enough, the two he mentioned had the same glowing numbers. The Miizunese woman had the number 1 and the Rynian man who yelled at Daan earlier had the number 6. But when she looked at others in the room, nobody else seemed to have these numbers. Miranda, too full of questions, finally turned towards the main priest and raised her hand.


    ¡°Excuse me, Mr. Priest? What¡¯s going on? And what are these numbers on my forehead?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± the Rynian man with the number 3 on his forehead shouted. ¡°What the hell is this nonsense all about? This better not be permanent! My face is my money-maker, and my contract says no face tattoos!¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ well¡­first of all, if you weren¡¯t already aware, the person you¡¯re standing next to is your new life partner and spouse.¡± the priest had spoken with a practiced tongue, but his tone suggested that his mind was thinking of other things, most likely the bizarre turn of events. ¡°We have a lovely location outside the caves for you eight couples to consummate your marriage and try to plant the seeds to your potential saviors of the world. We will send you to the nation you¡¯re appointed to live in once we have talked as Church members. As for the numbers...¡± the priest had looked at the four with the numbers on their foreheads, but Miranda noticed the numbers didn¡¯t shine as bright as before and assumed they were starting to fade away. The priest seemed to look for answers or an explanation, as he kept opening his mouth to speak, but never found anything worth saying or explaining. ¡°I have heard rumors of numbers appearing on certain Children¡¯s heads like yours, but there has never been an understanding as to why it happens. This is my third ceremony I¡¯ve been a part of, the second one I¡¯ve led, but I have never witnessed these numbers before.¡±


    ¡°You also said that the gods hadn¡¯t spoken in over a hundred years¡­¡± Daan spoke as he raised his hand for attention. ¡°But the Church and the Svya has taught us that it was over 300 years ago that they spoke last on record. So¡­ why is there an overlap of misinformation between you priests and the Svya?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re from Krepki branch of the Church in Ghald, correct?¡± the priest asked with a knowing smile. ¡°You see, as great a city as Krepki can be, your church seems to be a little outdated on certain things. Now, I don¡¯t wish to speak ill of-¡±


    The priest¡¯s eyes suddenly went wide, and his mouth hung open. Everyone had paused, wondering why he had stopped speaking in the middle of his sentence, until the priest fell to his knees and blood started to ooze out of his mouth. The priest soon fell forward, flat on his face and stomach, with an arrow impaled in the back of his neck. One of the women gave a horrified scream before 3 loud bang sounds came from one of the tunnels that lead towards the room they were in now, and one couple- a Ghaldian man and Miizunese woman- and Emma the loudmouth had fallen to the ground, blood pouring from holes in their skulls. It wasn¡¯t until one more arrow and one more bang dropped a priest and a nun, and that¡¯s when everybody began to scatter and run and scream.


    Motoko saw the chaos in front of her and reached for the hilt of her sword, trying to take deep, calming breaths as she always did before a battle. She stood still and closed her eyes, trying to both find her peace as well as feel the auras of everybody within eyesight as well as in the tunnel the noises were coming from. She knew that someone, or more likely two people, were firing weapons at anybody in the room. She knew one was a bow and one was a gun, but she had only fought people relying on muskets, and they never made the booming sound that came from whatever weapon was firing into the crowd. She might have not been able to see them clearly in the shadows of the tunnel, but Motoko was starting to be able to feel the vibrations of her attackers as they moved in the tunnel. And based on their aim and their movements, they were far from amateurs.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing!?¡± Caine, her newly appointed husband who introduced himself as the priest was talking earlier, was shouting and shaking her as she stood there with her eyes closed.


    ¡°Prepping.¡± Motoko said matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Do you not hear that?! They have guns, and you have a sword. What do you think you¡¯re going to be able to do with that?¡± Caine asked, taking her arm and trying to lead her to run away.


    ¡°Gun.¡± Motoko corrected.


    ¡°What?¡± Caine asked, looking at her as if she were crazy for trying to remain still when people were being killed and they still hadn¡¯t even seen the killers yet.


    ¡°It¡¯s just one gun,¡± she explained again, and her eyes were fixed on the shadows of the tunnel. ¡°There¡¯s two people, from what I can tell, and they¡¯re trained killers.¡±


    ¡°Okay then¡­ let¡¯s go!¡± Caine shouted grabbed at her arm again to try and run with her. Motoko appreciated the fact that he didn¡¯t run off and try to protect himself like a coward, but he also didn¡¯t know the world she grew up in.


    ¡°You can go and help others find safety and make sure they stay away from that specific tunnel,¡± she pointed to the one she knew the shots were being fired from. ¡°I¡¯m going to either take care of these fiends are at least stall them long enough for everyone to get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy!?¡± Caine shouted so hard and so high that his voice cracked at the last word. ¡°Again, they have guns, and you have a sword, what do you think you-¡±


    Within a flash, Motoko had stepped in front of Caine drawn her sword to use it to deflect a bullet and split two arrows that were fired in quick successions towards their way. When Caine had seen both arrows and a long sniper bullet cut in half evenly, he slowly looked at his super-human bride.


    ¡°Neither you, nor these murderers, understand what I¡¯ve gone through on the battlefields of my life. Now go...¡± she looked at Caine from the corner of her eye, not turning her face from the direction of the cave. ¡°Make sure you get as many people out of here as possible. Just leave this to me.¡±


    ¡°Look, you may be some crazy warrior princess, but what kind of man would I be if I left my new wife to fend for herself? I can¡¯t just-¡±


    ¡°Pardon me,¡± a soft voice had cut Caine off, and when he turned to look at where the voice was coming from, he saw the bald Miizunese man with the spear attached to his back standing next to him. ¡°I know it¡¯s none of my place to speak to you as husband and wife, but if I may, sir¡­ Lady Motoko is not only the daughter of one of the leading generals in one of the most military-strong cities in our nation, she is one of the most renown daemon hunters to ever exist in our nation. And, no offense, sir, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve dealt with a lot of battles in your life, am I safe to assume?¡±


    Caine wanted to protest that he had been in a handful of fights, but those were just drunken bar brawls, and even in half of those he didn¡¯t end up winning. He simply nodded his head as he kept his mouth shut. Normally Caine would have said something snarky, but the fact that this guy was a head taller than him made him seem all the more intimidating despite his soft and gentle voice and mannerisms.


    ¡°If it¡¯s her safety that you¡¯re worried about, I will stay and fight by her side. Most of my studies have been for healing purposes, but that doesn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t train to become a certified warrior monk.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Motoko spoke, still keeping her eyes on the tunnel. ¡°Your name is Hiroki, correct? If you really want to help me win this fight, get all the innocent people out of here so I can concentrate on the fight. I need you to make sure they make it outside safely, and to close the entrance to the cave if I¡¯m not with you guys by then.¡±


    ¡°You want us to close the entrance if you¡¯re still in here?¡± Caine questioned before Hiroki could get a word in edgewise.


    ¡°I can manage to catch up to a group of average people when I¡¯m by myself; that¡¯s not the issue. If I¡¯m not with you, it means that whoever I¡¯m fighting has won or has stalled me long enough to not make it to you guys, and if that¡¯s the case, you need to stall them from reaching the party by any means necessary. I don¡¯t know who they want, or what their objective is, but I refuse to let them ruin the chance to save the world.¡±


    Caine hesitated, but when Hiroki put a hand on his shoulder, indicating they should get going, Caine shook his head, as if to say that Motoko was insane. Hiroki held a soft, yet stern gaze before Caine finally sighed, finally listening to her orders, taking off to help others. Motoko had stared into the shadows of the tunnels, waiting for more shots to be fired, but there were no signs of the assailants making any threatening moves. Instead, after a few moments of undisturbed panic from the people involved in the ceremony, the two predators had started to casually walk out from the tunnel and into the room, showing themselves for the first time. It was a young woman with golden hair who had a large and powerful looking gun casually slunk around her shoulder as she held on to it with one hand, and a young man with mostly black hair with occasional white streaks who had a bow in his hand, and a full quiver on his back. While the man looked like someone on a mission, the woman looked as relaxed as if she were on vacation.


    ¡°Sorry to break up your little ceremony here, boys and girls.¡± the woman said as she casually stretched and pulled the gun from her shoulder and dug to the butt of the gun into the ground as she leaned against it. ¡°It¡¯s really nothing personal, but orders are orders, and our orders were to...¡± she trailed off and went into thinking deep and hard.


    ¡°Murder every single one of them?¡± the dark-haired man offered an end to her sentence.


    ¡°Well, I mean... yeah, but I was looking for something that didn¡¯t sound so¡­ dark.¡± the woman seemed to pout at the fact that her partner described their mission for what it was. ¡°In my experience, the people you¡¯re about to murder prefer if you sugarcoat their near-future experience.¡±


    ¡°Nobody else will be dying by your hands today.¡± Motoko spoke to the assailants with a chill in her voice.


    ¡°Ha!¡± the blonde¡¯s laugh was equal parts amusement and mockery. ¡°I know that you¡¯re some sort of Miizunese warrior, but you have no idea who you¡¯re dealing with. You have heard of the Phantoms, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I have heard...¡± Motoko spoke with an unimpressed firmness. ¡°But I don¡¯t believe in fearing stories and myths, so how about you two get ready for a lesson in humility?¡±


    ¡°You really think you can handle two Phantoms by yourself? I didn¡¯t realize you were such a delusional little cunt.¡±


    ¡°I believe the phrase is: takes one to know one.¡± while Motoko¡¯s face had been serious and straight as it had been throughout the whole conversation, there was at least a hint of a smile in her voice.


    ¡°Alright,¡± the blonde had set the gun she balanced on her shoulders down onto the ground and against a wall that laid next to the tunnel¡¯s entrance and took our two daggers. ¡°Sage, do you mind watching my sniper rifle for me? I¡¯ve got a mess to make.¡±


    ¡°Claire, do you really think it¡¯s a good idea to try and take on a Miizunese warrior by yourself? You do remember our discussions about the people we would rather fight?¡± the black-haired man, Sage, had responded.


    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯ve also remembered a couple of Miizunese graves that we¡¯ve had to fill. Don¡¯t worry, I got this little bitch by myself. Besides, she thinks she¡¯s being cunning by acting as a distraction to buy time for the others.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡­ you want me to go after the others and leave you here?¡±


    ¡°What? And allow her to think she¡¯s right? I¡¯ll take care of this and then we can go hunt down the others and murder them in their faces, but I needed you here as witness to see that Miizunese people aren¡¯t anything to worry about.¡±


    ¡°Well, for one, those Miizunese graves you mentioned earlier¡­ I remember that I was the one to fill them, but hey if you want to have your first real taste of a fighter, I¡¯m not gonna stop you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re so sweet.¡± Claire, the blonde woman said sarcastically.


    Claire looked at Motoko as she tightened the grip on her daggers, and Motoko brought the hilt of her sword into both hands. The two stared at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to make some sort of move. Claire started to grin as she expertly twirled both daggers in between her fingers with a casual coolness, but made no further movements towards attacking. Motoko kept as still and calm, waiting for Claire to make the first move, or at the very least, spot some sort of opening so she could attack first.


    Before Motoko could almost notice, Claire had vanished with a sudden quickness, and Motoko slid her sword between her left arm and her torso, leaving the blade to cover a portion of her back. The moment she moved, she felt herself block a heavy blow from Claire, who looked almost surprised that Motoko managed to block the attack. But Claire didn¡¯t let up, she sent a series of blows at Motoko, who quickly and seamlessly turned around and parried every attack swung at her. Nearly a dozen blows had been blocked within a second, but each attack had been deflected perfectly and without strain. Claire sent one hefty blow after the series of small ones and even though Motoko had blocked it perfectly, she still skidded back a few yards from the attack.


    The moment Motoko stopped skidding backwards, she had to turn to her right to deflect three shots fired from a handgun that Claire had tucked away somewhere on her body, but once the bullets were deflected, Motoko had to turn to her left to see an upcoming Claire coming relentlessly. More swings were thrown and blocked, and at one point, two more shots were sneaked between swings, but nothing seemed to deter Motoko from her perfect parries.


    It had gotten to a point where Claire was getting irritated. No matter how much she swung and attacked, no matter how heavy her attacks had gotten, no matter how much she tried to misdirect and cause surprise attacks, Motoko had blocked with equal force. It was as if Motoko was purposely matching strength without showing her true colors. And the worst part about it was that her face had been stone cold the entire time. While there wasn¡¯t a glimmer of effort written on her face, she also didn¡¯t seem to be cocky at all, and Claire was getting pissed at the stoic nature of this blue-haired bitch. For the first time in Claire¡¯s life, she didn¡¯t know where her strength stood in a fight.


    Claire kept hammering out different style attacks with her daggers and handgun, and, despite her speed being too quick for the untrained eye, Motoko managed to keep up. It was about a minute into the fight that Claire had slipped when Motoko parried one of her attacks and she was vulnerable to an attack. Claire glimpsed at Motoko¡¯s eyes at that moment, and she could see that Motoko had seen the same opening Claire was aware of, and yet Motoko didn¡¯t strike. Claire jumped backwards when she found her footing, and looked at Motoko while catching her breath.


    ¡°The hell is that? You pulling punches on me?¡± Claire asked, not hiding her annoyances. She noticed that even though she was just slightly out of breath from the running around and fighting, Motoko hadn¡¯t even looked like she partook in any of the action based on her statuesque stance.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to strike down a person who isn¡¯t fully giving their all, either.¡± Motoko said firmly. ¡°Now are you going to give me an honest effort, or are you going to continue to waste all of our time?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you who¡¯s a waste of time!¡± Claire shouted as she gripped a fragment of the magic crystal around her neck she always carried in her left hand as she swiped her dagger in the air with her right. But as soon as she swung her arm, a large light purple boomerang-shaped beam shot out from her dagger and soared quickly towards Motoko. Motoko, for the first time, leaped out of the way, but Claire met Motoko midair while Motoko¡¯s eyes were still fixed on the magical beam that exploded upon impact with a wall. But even when Claire thought she had finally caught Motoko off guard, Motoko still managed to block three more regular swings of Claire¡¯s daggers before she swung her first offensive attack and made Claire back off when she blocked. The two ladies landed several yards apart, but their eyes stayed on each other.


    ¡°So, is that what the ability to use magic looks like?¡± Motoko asked.


    ¡°Glad I don¡¯t have to explain too much, most people who have made me use magic act like it¡¯s the craziest thing they¡¯ve ever seen, and yet you¡­ you¡¯re almost not fazed by it.¡±


    ¡°When you hunt down daemons for a living, you run into some who have magical abilities. Not only that, but you Phantoms aren¡¯t the only people on the planet who have learned to use magic for their own personal gains. I, for one, do not agree, but that doesn¡¯t mean I know how and what situations call for magic the best.¡±


    ¡°Well, then¡­ Maybe that means I don¡¯t have to hold back with the magic, then. I thought maybe I¡¯d incinerate you before having a chance to play with you a little bit longer if I didn¡¯t hold back a little.¡± Claire gave a cocky grin.


    ¡°Uhhhh, Claire?¡± Claire heard Sage¡¯s voice sound more disturbed than usual, which indicated to Claire that it had nothing to do with her or her actions for once.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked as she looked in his direction, the grin on her face disappearing when she had seen Sage¡¯s worried look.


    When she turned her eyes in the direction he was looking at, she had seen one of the priests who had been shot in the head starting to be picked up and placed on his feet by some unseen force, the blood still dripping from the wound on the temples of his head. His eyes were glowing with the same light purple hue as all the magic and crystals had. Before Claire, Sage or Motoko could say anything, one of the fallen Children of the Moon began floating and being placed on their feet with the same colors shining from their eyes. One by one, each corpse started to be reanimated and placed back on their feet. It wasn¡¯t until the last body started to float that Motoko saw the first priest¡¯s arm suddenly shoot out and grow muscular and far longer than necessary for his body. His other limbs began to expand and grow, and a third set ripped out of his rib cage. The priest¡¯s face had formed a snout, his hair grew longer, his teeth began to grow in size and sharpness, a complete and total transformation. The priest had stood three feet taller now, and his new monstrous form let out an ear shattering roar that echoed throughout the halls.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Sage gasped as he eyed between the beast and Claire, wondering what the best take of action would be.


    ¡°What the hell, indeed...¡± Claire said, mouth hanging open. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me these things are-¡±


    ¡°Daemons.¡± Motoko said as she gripped her weapon and eyed the monster. But before she could decide to attack, one of the other reanimated corpses began to make similar transformations, each person becoming a beast of a different breed, none of them similar in looks or sounds.


    ¡°Why the fuck are a bunch of dead bodies turning into daemons?¡± Claire asked.


    ¡°The rumors and myths had always said that daemons have come from the Center Island...¡± Motoko reminded everyone, including herself. ¡°Is this the reason this location has been locked away and only allowed for special occasions?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense...¡± Claire said. ¡°The Phantoms and government know so much about this place, from the layouts to where the real hunk of the total magic crystal deposit is¡­ why would they not know about this?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s just you and those in your rank who don¡¯t know. Perhaps you¡¯re not worthy of knowing.¡±


    ¡°You know what, bitch? I-¡± one of the daemons roared again, and it seemed that the daemons were coming out of a haze and finally recognizing the trio of living humans standing in the room with them.


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry to have to cut this fight of ours short, but hopefully, if you¡¯re as strong as you two claim, we can finish our fight in the outside world.¡± Motoko said with regret in her voice.


    ¡°What are you talking ab-¡± Claire was about to ask, but she was distracted by another monstrous howl. But the moment the daemons had started to shift about and walk towards the trio, Motoko had vanished with lightning quick speed towards the main tunnel in the room that everyone else escaped out of earlier. When she was within the threshold, she jumped to the top of the opening and smashed her sword hard enough for the outline of the threshold to crumble and drop large boulders as she fell beyond the opening. When the boulders had finished falling, they piled large enough to block the entire tunnel, boxing Claire and Sage in. Motoko dashed down the tunnel, hearing the roars of the daemons and sounds of battle beginning in the main room a few seconds after she made it out. But despite all the noises, not a single one was due to the Phantoms breaking through the rock pile she just made. Motoko kept running until the distance between her and the daemon-filled room had faded from all noises of the fight.


    Motoko was more shaken up than she had been in years, but she was proud of herself for not allowing the Phantoms to see that. That Phantom girl was easily one of the most skilled warriors that Motoko had come across, but her cockiness made it easy for distractions. Motoko had to wonder what the outcome of the fight might have been had Claire been more serious. While she didn¡¯t seem as threateningly strong as the bandaged-faced woman who guided Motoko to the cave, Claire was at the very least a small step above Motoko.


    Motoko kept dashing down the hallways until she had finally seen the tail-end of the Children and clergy of the Church who had survived. Daan was in the very back and the first person to see her, and Motoko could tell that upon first glances, he was scared to see someone gaining on the group from the dark until he could tell who it was. When Motoko managed to get close enough to talk to him, he slowed down on his running speed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you all by yourself so soon.¡± Daan said with a sigh of relief as he stopped to let her catch up, the distance between them and the group still large enough for a private conversation. ¡°Did you manage to, uh¡­ take care of those two assassins?¡± it sounded as if Daan tried to avoid using the term ¡°kill¡±.


    ¡°A room full of gods who spoke to us for generations and a room full of corpses, and you¡¯re more worried about the human assassins?¡± Motoko raised a brow. ¡°But, no, I wasn¡¯t able to subdue the two back there, but I did manage to leave them alone with a room full of daemons.¡± Daan looked at her with a confused look. There were no Daemons when he was in the room last. ¡°Oh, right¡­ the corpses in the room turned into daemons and I trapped them in there.¡± Motoko said nonchalantly, which made Daan look at her as if she were even more insane.  ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure how strong those Phantoms are, but we shouldn¡¯t assume they¡¯re down for the count. It would have taken me and a small team of my best fighters to take down all those daemons, and Phantoms are nothing to scoff at. I suggest we keep going until we get out of here, and then split up and return back to wherever it was that each couple were assigned to live at and keep doing our duty as the Children of the Moon.¡±


    ¡°You want us to split up?¡± Daan asked, a small fear creeping into his voice.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what was going to happen after the ceremony anyway?¡± Motoko asked with a cock of her head.


    ¡°Yeah, but that was before a couple of killers came after all of us. They even killed innocent priests and nuns!¡± Daan didn¡¯t hide his concern.


    ¡°While this is true, don¡¯t you find it strange that two Phantoms were the ones who were trying to kill us? Two members of an organization that has spent millions, if not billions, on researching a method to get the Children of the Moon together to hopefully create the Child who would save us all from daemons and bring down the dividing barrier? Isn¡¯t the Central government the people who had put us all together and tried to keep it a secret from the rest of the world that we are here on this island right now? Why would they send two of their own agents- supposedly some of their best agents- to come do such a dirty job? Even if there is some weird government conspiracy, wouldn¡¯t it make more sense to hire someone who has no connection to you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess that does make sense,¡± Daan said slowly when he let the information process in his head.


    ¡°However,¡± Motoko added slowly. ¡°Those two did seem to be just as surprised about the corpses in the other room turning into daemons as well¡­ I feel like people who are being sent by such a high functioning organization would be given information about the daemons, but they were completely caught off guard. Which means the government didn¡¯t inform them intentionally, or they were acting without the government¡¯s permission with trying to end our lives. Either way, I feel like we don¡¯t have to worry about these particular Phantoms as much as one might think.¡±


    ¡°Hey Samurai girl!¡± Motoko heard Caine¡¯s voice out to her, and when she looked down the path, she saw the remaining group of survivors stopped to take a small break and catch their breath after the adrenaline had ran out. ¡°You already killed off those two assholes?¡±


    ¡°As I was just telling Daan here, I wasn¡¯t able to defeat them, but I was able to trap them in the room with all the daemons.¡± Caine looked at her, confused about the mention of daemons, and Motoko explained what happened, realizing she was going to have to relay that information to the others too.


    ¡°Great!¡± Caine said with relief when she finished explaining. ¡°So, they were killed by a roomful of those horrible monsters. What are we going to do now?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if those two survive the daemons...¡± Motoko said while trying to devise a plan of what to do next.


    ¡°What!?¡± Caine shouted in surprise. ¡°You honestly think those two took on all those monsters and lived?¡±


    ¡°Only if that woman¡¯s partner was as strong or stronger than her. I definitely wouldn¡¯t doubt it whatsoever, and that¡¯s all the more reason we should get out of here. I could barely handle one of them myself, and nobody else here except maybe Hiroki seems like they¡¯re able to fight alongside me to fend them off. I think it would be best if we split off and went to the scheduled home situation the Ceremony was going to let us leave as.¡±


    ¡°You really want all of us to split up after what just happened?¡± Caine questioned as if she were crazy. It was true, there was a certain strength in numbers, even if it was just to keep a look out for the two warriors who could fight. ¡°You really think it¡¯s the best idea after these people tried to murder us on sacred ground? They know who we are, or if they don¡¯t, I¡¯m sure they can find out and hunt us down!¡±


    ¡°Do you think it would be easier to hunt us down in larger cities with plenty of pedestrians and civilians being in the way, or out here in the middle of nowhere, where we have no contact with the outside world and nobody would ever find our corpses?¡± She left Caine to answer, but his silence and lack of response was more than enough.


    ¡°What do you think we should do then?¡± Daan asked when there was a long silence and there seemed to be no direct plan being spoken of. Caine looked like he was about to answer until he noticed that Daan was speaking directly to Motoko and not asking for both of their opinions. He was the man in their new relationship after all, so why wasn¡¯t this pipsqueak asking him directly?


    ¡°Tell everyone to gather around...¡± Motoko said with a deep concentration in her eyes. ¡°I think I might have a plan for all of us for if we ever end up in trouble again.¡±


    * * *


    Claire and Sage sat on the ground with the backs pressed against the wall, panting and catching their breathes as they wiped the blood away from their faces and other regions of their body. From what they can tell, the blood that had been splattered all over them didn¡¯t belong to either of them, but to all the slain daemons that had body parts sprawled all over the room. Some of the arms and legs that had been severed cleanly, others were broken in places, twisted and mangled in their own pools of blood. It had taken three hours for every single corpse in the room to become a daemon and be killed off by Claire and Sage. The duo was sitting a handful of feet next to each other, both gasping and swallowing the air hungrily. The two had looked at each other with a knowing look that could only be explained as shared annoyance in the struggles they had to deal with recently. They were too winded to speak, but the glances they shared conveyed an entire conversation between the two.


    Claire honestly couldn¡¯t believe that the Miizunese girl had gotten the jump on her and outwitted them both. Claire had thought as an honorable, battle-savvy Miizunese, she would have stayed to fight the good fight until death. Although, Claire could see it in her eyes that the little blue-haired warrior wasn¡¯t fleeing the fight out of fear, but rather to reconvene and fight later. It was almost as if she knew that if she locked Claire and Sage in a room full of those monsters, they would meet again in the future with less distractions. Even though it meant that their missions was a failure, Claire couldn¡¯t help but feel a ping of excitement at the thought of going head-to-head with a warrior with her skill and spirit in an actual honorable duel. It had been a while since she had found somebody who both had a similar amount of skill fighting, but also a fighting style and means of movement that were unfamiliar to Claire. She had fought plenty of Miizunese warriors in her time as a Phantom, but none of them were as elite or had movements as precise and calculated as this Motoko girl she just fought.


    As the two caught their breath, Claire looked around for a better passage out of the room they were currently stuck in. The opening they came through seemed to be their best option, even with the large mound of huge boulders still blocking it. It wasn¡¯t that she and Sage couldn¡¯t move the boulders themselves with their power and strength, but after the sever workout that killing over a dozen daemons, using any further strength was going to be more tedious work than it should have been. Her muscles were sore to the point that getting herself off the ground was going to be more effort than it should have been. Now that Claire thought about it, it was probably best that the Children of the Moon who survived ran away and didn¡¯t just trap them in a room to wait to kill Claire and Sage themselves. If they had to fight that Motoko women in their current state, even in a two-against-one fight, they would most likely lose their lives.


    Before the two could even try and stand up, Sage¡¯s ears perked up and he sat completely still for a moment, catching Claire¡¯s attention.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± she asked at his reaction to something she didn¡¯t sense yet.


    ¡°You hear that?¡± he asked quietly, and the two sat in silence to try and hear the noises Sage was referring to. Claire could have thought she had heard the soft sound of feet in the blocked off tunnel the Children escaped through, but as soon as she really tried to focus in on the sounds, they seemed to have stopped. And just as quickly as they had stopped, they started up again and then ceased once more. Claire waited to hear another scuffle, but there was an odd silence that she thought felt familiar. But before she could place where she had experienced the type of silence, a blast from the giant pile of boulders that blocked the entryway had exploded, sending pieces of rock and debris flying inward toward Claire and Sage, but nothing too big flew their direction. When the rocks had finished collapsing and the dust had started to settle, a group of men charged into the room.


    Six men in total, each holding a machine gun or rifle as they entered the room, looking down the sites of their weapon in case of dangerous enemies. They had worn tan military cargo pants, a bright red top with brown sleeves that had been covered by metal guards around the shoulders, and a metal helmet that had covered their eyes, but the technology behind the equipment had allowed the user to not only see normally, but could zoom up to ten times the normal human vision,  see with night vision and infrared modes to hunt their prey easier, the visor replicating the eyes of the helmet was accompanied by a single red dot that moved along with eye site. The reason Claire knew so much about the helmet was because it was accustomed to the everyday foot soldier who had graduated the training academy for Phantoms. Luckily, Claire and Sage knew that whoever had entered the room was from Central Government and not those Children of the Moon who escaped.  But the one thing that was bothering Claire was who these foot soldiers had been sent to accompany. Claire knew all too well that six men of this caliber wouldn¡¯t arrive to such a remote location without some head figure in the Central Government in tow. She simply had no idea who, out of all the higher-ups who had ranked superior to here, would choose to take the time out of their day to come to such a barren and hard-to-reach area as the central island.


    The six Phantoms had lined up, two groups of three men standing next to each other, the two groups standing a few feet in front of each other, acting as a corridor of men, seeming like they were there to introduce the figure head who had summoned them to the area. Claire and Sage started to try and pull themselves from the floor as casually as possible, but the wear-and-tear from the battle left them appearing a lot more strained then either had hoped for. Claire winced the moment she fully stood up, not realizing just how heavy and sore her arms alone were, let alone the rest of her body. When she was able to step away from the wall that she clung onto to pull herself up and stand by herself, there was a small sound of a single person walking into the room. In all of the duo¡¯s years in being a Phantom, neither would have expected what they had seen.


    Casually strolling in was a young woman, perhaps even a couple years younger than either of them, with the brightest neon-pink hair that was tied into long-ended pigtails. Instead of any type of military or professional clothing, she wore a white vest-like, sleeveless blouse that was thin enough to see the color of her black bar bleeding through. She wore a red and black flannel short skirt that barely seemed to cover the necessary areas, as well as long, white, knee-high socks and casual black and white sporting shoes. She walked into the room with a bounce in her step, almost child-like and naive, a smile on her face and her eyes told you her mind was daydreaming about something cheerier and more fun than the area and situation they had been in. The Phantom foot soldiers she strolled in with saluted her as she walked passed them, but her daydreaming didn¡¯t seem to stop until she was a handful of feet away from Sage and Claire, not sure why anybody from Central Government had been sent here so soon, unless their skills on being able to properly assassinate the Children of the Moon had been doubtful from the get-go.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± the pink haired girl spoke in a sing-song voice. ¡°You two are¡­ shit, what were your names again? I can only remember your numbers. Wait, you guys are numbers 4 and 5, right?¡± she asked casually, as if the two were supposed to understand what she was talking about. It had taken a second, but Claire had remembered the odd moments before the duo had begun slaughtering those who gathered for the ceremony where glowing numbers had appeared and eventually vanished from their foreheads, Claire was the number 4 and Sage was the number 5. But before Claire or Sage could say anything about the numbers, the girl clapped her hands together once in excitement. ¡°Wait, it¡¯s Sage and Claire, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and who are you?¡± Sage asked without the same friendliness the girl had given. The both of them had eyed the girl in front of them up and down, gauging how important she must have been. Not just anyone would be allowed to walk around with six Phantom foot soldiers, and definitely not for any random reason either.


    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t have to worry about that.¡± the girl said with a friendly smile as she waved them off with her hand, as if literally brushing the topic away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry?¡± Claire repeated. ¡°A little girl like you comes down here with six soldiers, to the island that has the most restrictions to gain access to in the history of any place on the planet, and you just waltz in here, even though neither me nor my partner have ever heard of you or seen you before in our lives. So, you have to understand why we may have our reservations.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± the girl gave a long pause as she thought about what she wanted to say, bringing her hand to her chin as she thought deeply. Everything she did and said was very animated and cutesy, like a girl who hadn¡¯t gotten out of her high school phases of nativity yet.  ¡°What can I tell you, what can I tell you...¡± her voice and face still deep in thought, until her eyes lit up and she a smile crept onto her face. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s okay for me to tell you my name is May. And¡­ to be honest, I think that¡¯s the only thing I¡¯m allowed to tell you right now. Sorry, it¡¯s been so long since we did this, and no matter how often we¡¯ve gone through this routine, you tend to forget things over the years, especially with all the stupid rule changes we¡¯ve made to make things ¡®fair¡¯.¡± she spat the last word out in a cute anger.


    Sage and Claire shot a glance at each other, both wondering if the other had any type of idea what the girl was talking about. But when both of them gave an unknowing face or a shrug, they turned back and looked at the girl, about to ask her why she was here. But as if she were reading their minds, she clasped her hands together happily again and said with excitement in her voice, ¡°Do you want to know why I¡¯m here?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­ yeah. I was just about to ask you that.¡± Claire said, caught off guard by how childish this girl had been, while at the same time, how much she was able to read a room correctly.  The girl¡¯s smile had gone from pure and friendly, to mischievous.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll tell you only if you two promise me with your lives that you won¡¯t tell anybody in the Central Government that I was here.¡± Sage and Claire looked at each other, wondering what it was this girl was hiding for her to be here and requesting secrecy. They looked at her, urging for her to continue, but she just stood there, staring back, her eyes looking as though they were waiting for something. When Claire realized what it was that May was waiting for, she let out an irritated sigh.


    ¡°Yes, yes, we promise we won¡¯t tell anybody.¡±


    ¡°Yay!¡± May cheered as she clapped her hands together happily until she was ready to deliver the news. When she spoke, she spoke with the same type of excitement as before. ¡°Well, if you must know, I¡¯m here to cast judgment on you for your failures to kill the Children of the Moon, and arrest you for treason!¡± If she were speaking another language, Claire would have guessed her and Sage won a dream vacation based on the thrill in her voice as she spoke.


    ¡°What?!¡± Claire and Sage shouted in unison, but Claire carried the rest of their indignation. ¡°Treason? What treason? We didn¡¯t lose those fuckers until a few hour ago, there¡¯s no way in hell anybody in Central Government would have known that and gotten here within that time frame! I don¡¯t care if you teleported to the island an hour before the ceremony started, it still takes three hours to travel down these tunnels.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know.¡± May said matter-of-factly with a cute smile. The warmth in her voice was starting to get on Claire¡¯s nerves. It made her even more upset that it didn¡¯t seem like May was going to say anything else on the subject. Claire gritted her teeth, wanting to do nothing more than to reach out and wrangle the cute smile off this pink-haired bitch¡¯s face. But Sage stepped forward, both to speak, but also to be in front of Claire in case she did do something to act out in anger and frustration so he could be in the way to stop her from doing something she may regret.


    ¡°And what are the charges to suspect us of treason? Could you elaborate on what we¡¯ve done? Because, I can assure you we¡¯ve definitely come closer to crossing lines in other missions compared to this one, and we didn¡¯t even receive a metaphorical slap on the wrist for those moments.¡±


    ¡°For withholding important information to the Central Government and dispersing other valuable information to those who are outside a need-to-know basis.¡±


    ¡°Withholding information!?¡± Claire roared in astonishment and fury, enough to make Sage wrap his arms around her waist to keep her from charging at May. May turned her back on the duo and began walking away, signaling to the six soldiers with nothing more than a wave of her hand. Four of the soldiers got handcuffs out and started to slowly make their way towards Claire and Sage. The two didn¡¯t want to add resisting arrest to their charges by fighting back, but they kept the soldiers at a fair pace away. ¡°You think we¡¯ve been withholding information?¡± Claire continued to shout. ¡°What about you fuckers and the cunts at Central who forgot to tell us that there would be Motoko Kawaguchi, one of the most notorious warriors in Miizu, here to be assassinated. You don¡¯t tell a child to go inside a cave to hunt rabbits knowing full well that it¡¯s the lair to a daemon!¡±


    ¡°My, my, Claire...¡± May spoke with the same cute tone as she continued making her way out of the main room and back into the tunnels with two soldiers guarding her as they began to depart, but Claire could feel the acidity in her words this time. As cute as she looked and sounded, Claire was beginning to realize her assumptions of May being an utter bitch were starting to show some truth. ¡°I thought somebody as professional as you would accept your fate and fight for your innocence through the courtroom. Your actions aren¡¯t going to go over well with your jury when they find out you¡¯re clawing about like a wild animal.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Well, how do you think people are going to feel when they find out that this Center Island has powers that transform dead people into daemons!¡± May had stopped dead in her tracks, but didn¡¯t move or say anything at first. The soldiers trying to close in on them to arrest them also froze, but gave the duo and each other curious looks at this information Claire announced, before turning to May for answers. ¡°Yeah, I bet our jury is going to listen to us a lot better when we hand them that information!¡± Claire announced with a gleeful and mischievous grin. She didn¡¯t know how the rest of the Central Government would feel about this type of information, but the way that it seemed to shut May up was enough.


    May stood there in silence for a while before taking an exasperatedly deep sigh. Her shoulders sank, as if all the cute, fun-loving joy that seemed to be pouring out of her just moments ago had suddenly ceased and dried up. But it wasn¡¯t until she had spoken that Claire¡¯s joy at May¡¯s shrinking optimism turned sour and a creeping sense of worry started to spread through Claire¡¯s body. The aura around May had transformed drastically, and for the first time in years, Claire found herself uncertain of whether she had spoken too much and should have shut her mouth. And that feeling only grew by the second.


    ¡°You know, Claire...¡± May¡¯s voice still sounded cute even though her smile had vanished completely. ¡°I think I can speak for all of us higher ups when I say I really wish you hadn¡¯t just said that right now.¡±


    Before Claire or Sage could ask why it might have been a bad idea to bring up the fact the island had turned human corpses into daemons, May quickly swiped her hand towards the soldier guarding her on her left with a casual swiftness, fully decapitating the soldier. Nobody seemed to even realize what happened until the corpse had fallen to its knees, neck spraying blood like a wild geyser, and the head had fallen onto the floor. May quickly turned to the guard on her right, and placed her palm over his face, but crushed the man¡¯s skull with ease as she closed her hand, blood spurting at high speed in random directions. Both men were dead before anybody could register that May had been attacking people, but once they did, everyone began reaching for a weapon.


    Claire didn¡¯t even see May approach her. In a fraction of a second, before Claire could even place her hand on a dagger that was hidden in her bootstrap, she found herself being restrained by May, who was behind her, holding both of Claire¡¯s arms above her head and locked in a way she couldn¡¯t escape with only one arm, May¡¯s other hand holding a rifle she stole from one of the other soldiers, pointing it directly at Sage¡¯s face, too close to dodge or look for a way to attack. The four men who surrounded the two just a moment ago were motionless for a few moments, until Claire had noticed one half of a man¡¯s face start to slide downward while the other slide to the side, his head eventually splitting in two from a fresh, clean cut. Not only his face, but the rest of his body started to crumble in several different pieces as gravity weighed down on the split corpse. One by one, person by person, they fell, almost as if taking turns to turn into a pile of separated limbs, organs and blood. And May had been the one to do all this within not even a full second.


    When the last of the corpses had fallen into a bloody mound, there was nothing but the deep, fearful breaths of Claire and Sage, their eyes and attention entirely on her. It was clear that whoever this woman was had been entirely out of their league. Claire had known there were plenty of people out there more powerful than her, people she respected and even feared due to their skill¡­ but even if she were to gather every single one of those individuals to fight this woman all at once, she doubted they could even cause her to bleed, let alone kill her. For the first time in decades, Claire felt completely helpless and vulnerable, knowing her life was fully dependent on this woman¡¯s desires and mood. If she was blood thirsty enough, it would take next to nothing to send Claire and Sage into the eternal abyss. And Claire knew that to obtain that type of skill and strength, she must have killed several hundred people at least, and if she were to add Claire and Sage to her kill streak, it would be so easy, their death would most likely never come across her mind in the future. That was the real ego killer of the situation. Claire had never felt so small and insignificant in her life.


    ¡°Now...¡± May sighed once more, almost as if trying to recompose herself. Her warm and cheery smile had started to creep back onto her face, and the dark, ominous aura that surrounded her had nearly subsided. ¡°Since we have fully established how easy it would be to kill you at any time, do I have your guys¡¯ attention?¡± The two nodded, not being able to hide the fear that a single sound might cause her to make a sudden decision to end them if they weren¡¯t careful. ¡°Good, because to be honest, I need one of you. All my money is riding on- oops! Almost said too much there. I can¡¯t get disqualified.¡± she tittered with a girly giggle. ¡°But if I¡¯m going to let you two live, I¡¯m going to need you to never ever mention to anybody anything that has happened on this island, especially about the origins of Daemons.¡±


    ¡°The origins?¡± Sage questioned. ¡°You mean¡­ dead humans have always been the way daemons were created?¡±


    ¡°Oh my¡­¡± May said, as if she had slipped up. ¡°I thought you two had already come to that conclusion. My mistake. But as I¡¯ve said, you two are to never -EVER- talk to anybody other than the other Children of the Moon about this. And I don¡¯t care where in the world you might be, I don¡¯t care who you tell, I don¡¯t even care if you inform somebody in other ways than verbally: I will know. And I will hunt you two down and make you suffer in ways you couldn¡¯t even dream.¡± Her voice sounded as friendly as ever, but Claire could tell her threat was far from an exaggeration. ¡°Now, Sage, I need you to do me a favor, and stand by that wall over there, I want to have a little girl time with Claire, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Even though she was asking with manners, the gun she kept waving in his face reminded him it was more a demand than something Sage could deny. Sage slowly got up, showing his hands in a way of surrender and slowly made his way to the wall she asked him to go to. She had pointed the gun downward, suggesting he sat down or got on his knees, but he chose the former. When Sage got on the ground, she dropped the rifle on the ground, but something told Sage that if he tried anything suspicious, she would see it coming a mile away and make him, or even the both of them, pay for it.


    May still held Claire¡¯s arms over her head, and in the position she held it, Sage could bet that if May wanted to she could easily snap both of Claire¡¯s arms if she wanted a nonfatal way of making the two do whatever she wanted with a threat. Sage wondered who this girl had been to be so young looking and yet so ruthlessly savage on the battlefield, and why she had wanted to have him sit so far away from the two of them. What had she meant by ¡°girl time¡±, and why did he feel unconformable about the way she had implied it? Sage watched the two closely, knowing there was nothing he could do on the offense to help better their odds at surviving this girl, but he could at least be ready to be defensive to the death if she had ever been willing to strike. May looked at Sage with a coy smile, one he couldn¡¯t read, but that he didn¡¯t trust either. She put her mouth to Claire¡¯s ear and begin whispering something that Sage couldn¡¯t hear. But after a few moments of whispering, Claire¡¯s eyes seemed to open wider, as if she was hearing surprising news, but Sage also couldn¡¯t tell by Claire¡¯s face if it was alarming or not. Claire seemed to freeze as May kept whispering in her ear, and Sage watched as May¡¯s free hand started to move towards Claire¡¯s naval.


    With a slow and taunting trail of her finger, May¡¯s hand moved from Claire¡¯s stomach to the lip of her pants, slowly creeping to the button and zipper. May¡¯s mouth kept moving voicelessly from Sage¡¯s location as she unsnapped Claire¡¯s pants with an expert casualness before teasingly unzipping her pants. Sage looked worryingly at Claire, who¡¯s eyes had been just as uncomfortable as Sage imagined, but they also had a message: ¡°No matter what she does, do not retaliate.¡± Claire had never been the type to take a beating without fighting back, nor did she allow anybody to walk all over her. But here she was, being held down by a girl who looked younger than her, her body beginning to be violated, and yet Claire was as timid as a baby deer. Sage watched as May¡¯s hands slid into Claire¡¯s pants, the pants not concealing where her hands began to explore. Sage saw Claire¡¯s body jump up at the touch of a sensitive area, and Sage finally heard May shush her with an almost-calming voice as her hands fumbled and moved around slowly but forcefully. Sage could tell Claire was doing everything in her power to not say or do anything that was in her power, but every now and then she would wince or exhale sharply at May¡¯s touch. This went on for nearly a minute, but it seemed like an eternity for both of them before May gently kissed the top of Claire¡¯s head like a loving mother to her doting child. After the kiss, she took her hands out of Claire¡¯s pants and pushed Claire onto her knees.


    ¡°Alright, you two, I suppose that¡¯s enough fun for now.¡± She said as she looked at Sage, but then looked back down at Claire. ¡°You just remember what I told you, okay? Do that and hopefully you two will never have to see me again, yeah?¡± the way she asked made it sound as casual as if they had made a lunch date. ¡°But just so you know¡­ if you two ever do force me to visit you two, I will literally rip your throats out and shove them down your...¡± May trailed off before giggling a little. ¡°I was going to say ¡®and shove them down your throats¡¯, but that doesn¡¯t make very much sense now, does it?¡± Sage wasn¡¯t sure if either of them were to answer or if it was simply a rhetorical statement, but it didn¡¯t matter, because May clapped her hands to her lips as if she had concluded her business here. ¡°Ah, just in time!¡±


    Sage didn¡¯t know what she had meant by that statement until a moment later he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps from the tunnels. Once footsteps got close enough, Sage saw another ten Phantom foot soldiers spill into the room, half of them making sounds of horrid disgust as they witnessed the bloody messes that used to be their fellow comrades.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± one of them forced himself to look away. ¡°What the fuck happened in here?¡±


    ¡°These two Phantoms have been caught blatantly disobeying Phantom procedures and attempted to assassinate all of the Children of the Moon they were ordered to protect. Not only that, but they had refused arrest and killed their own.¡± May explained to them. Sage wanted to shout how what she was saying was a lie, to defend his and Claire¡¯s honor, but it felt odd. Usually Claire was the one to have outbursts and he usually had to calm her down, but Claire simply sat on her knees with her head hung low, an aura of utter defeat was infectiously flowing from her. Sage, as much as he knew they were being set up with lies and fraud for whatever reason, didn¡¯t say anything due to Claire¡¯s lack of animation.


    ¡°What do you wish for us to do with them, Lady May?¡± one of the soldiers asked.


    ¡°Lock them up and take them immediately to headquarters. There, summon Griffin for a trial. You know how much he loves a good, short trial. And then do to them what we do to all traitors,¡± she gave one last glace at Claire and Sage, and Sage saw a devilish smile creep on her face before she turned and walked away as casually as she entered: ¡°Kill them.¡±