《Daydreamer》 Prologue Working in an office sucked. She cracked her back in probably more places than should have been possible with one long stretch and decided at that moment she needed to secure different employment ASAP. At over 400 years old, Yumi Asagi generally considered herself rather spry -- years (read: decades) of martial arts and various encounters of the fist-fighting kind had her on her limber and on toes more often than not. And yet, two years hunched over a desk had her feeling her age. Which is to say, basically ancient. She rolled her neck and it gave her another crack. This couldn''t go on. Perhaps it was time she took Kaname up on his offer to start helping him at the clinic. At least then I may actually see him, she thought to herself, trying to recall the last time her wayward boyfriend had asked her out on a date and coming up empty. She knew she was partially to blame -- she certainly wasn''t one for making plans just as he wasn''t the type to have free time. The perks of dating a doctor that was good at his job and actually cared about his patients. Her phone buzzed, grabbing her attention -- an alarm reminding her that she needed to send some file as soon as she got into the office flashed on the screen. She checked the clock: 8PM. Definitely not the 8AM alarm she had meant to set, as she very much did notsend the aforementioned file that morning. She clicked her tongue at herself, already imagining her supervisor''s screaming red face in the morning. Whelp. One of the nice things about being a demon, she supposed, is that you never aged and eventually there was a need to dramatically fake your own death and move far away so people don''t question your unchanging youth -- Sure, she had only moved to this bustling area of Tokyo five years ago, but it would be the reasonable move, right? Right? Except she had been dating Kaname, a fox demon, for two years now. And she liked her apartment. And her friends. So she''d either have to deal with her screaming boss or quit her job tonight so she wouldn''t have to go in tomorrow. I should just visit Kaname at the clinic before I make any decisions.She wisely told herself and shortly made her way out the door after the thought. At least Kaname would be able to talk her out of doing something silly -- and she''d bring him dinner, knowing if he were still working at this hour he would likely just crash as soon as he got home without eating. It was after she had picked up the two takeout containers of mixed noodles and dumplings that she felt a ringing in her body -- the telltale creeping sense that she was being followed. As her wooden sandals clacked against the sidewalk, she debated momentarily on ignoring whoever it was, hoping they''d get bored. Maybe it was just some budding psychic who had never sensed a demon -- it had happened before. Or she could portal away, drop herself somewhere near the clinic and pretend it never happened, even if the distance would have her completely wiped afterwards. The mysterious energy pulsed with vitriol, awakening its mana signature as dark and demonic in nature. Of course, they waited until both her hands were full before making themselves known. Yumi glanced down at the two bags of food and then back up at the sky as if to curse whatever god happened to be looking down on her in that moment. So no ignoring them then, it would have to be a fight. At the very least, she had the advantage of them likely not realizing she knew they were following her. Her teacher had taught her long ago that responding to such taunts would remove any chance of surprising your enemy in turn, and as such it was rare that she tried to scare threats off with her mana. That particular lesson flashed quickly and distastefully in her mind, leaving the same burning annoyance thinking of her teacher always left her. She turned into a back alley, one that lead into another, and another -- as is strangely typical for Tokyo. As the area in front of her became a dead end, she heard a vicious chuckle from behind her, whomever it was thinking that they had her trapped. Which, she''d give them, was technicallytrue. But she intended to make it a ''you''re trapped in here with me,'' sort of scenario. As she turned to face whatever creep had taken to stalking her that night, the stench of corrupted mana hit her nose. It was a similar smell to that of rotted meat or molded vegetables. Both, even. It was an unexpected feeling as demons with corrupted mana typically didn''t live very long without, you know, uncorrupting it, and most demons lacked the desire to take the steps necessary to do so. The demon themselves had to be about seven foot tall, having ditched whatever human world glamour they had been employing to reveal something very in-human -- pallid mustard yellow skin, flesh spiking in odd directions and limbs that just didn''t look right coupled with a large knife. "Why do they always have big ass knives," she muttered under her breath, finding her stance and preparing for a fight. "Yooouuuu..." the demon gurgled, a throaty laugh as it took in her appearance. It was pleased to corner her in such a state, she was sure. "Alright," she called to it, "my food''s going to get cold so if you could maybe not do the whole long-drawn-out-syllable thing I''d really like to just get this over with." "Wooomannn..." It breathed, "Yooouu wiiiiilllllpaaaay..." "Okay so that''s just, like, your default, then?" She groaned. The next words however, gave her a moments pause as it sauntered forward. "Devorrraaa... Sainttt..." Well. Fuck. She shifted her bodyweight differently, away from thoughts of defense and prepared more for the attack. "You got ten seconds to explain yourself before I kick your face in buddy, so you''re gonna have to talk a lot faster than that." Instead, the demon charged, it''s sprint far quicker than it''s mouth. As it lunged she jumped backwards, her hands tight on the plastic bags, and spin kicked hard. To her dismay, one of the containers had flipped open in the bag and saucy noodles sprayed on her shirt in return for landing the kick to the demon''s stomach and knocking the knife out of its grip before it could use it against her. It slid backwards, not as hurt as she had hoped it''d be. "You asshole," she complained, blaming the demon as she decided it was its fault and definitely not hers, "this is one of my top ten shirts!" She charged at it, jumping as it swung its big long claws at her. Being in the air meant less power, but a good swing of her leg up and then down into its face made up for some of that -- it let out a cry and grabbed at its face as it stumbled backwards. She didn''t give it time to recover, landing another kick into its stomach and another at its knees. When it fell to the ground she had half a mind to start stomping at it, but caution warned her that it was probably strong enough that three kicks wouldn''t do it in. Instead, she backed off, taking another defensive stance. The bag with the dumplings ripped then -- each one plopping out of the container and plap plap plapingonto the gross alley way floor. She took a deep breath. "Whelp. Unfortunately for you I have a free hand now, and I''m pissed. You better start talking. Or sign language if your hands move faster than your mouth." "You''ve meddled with us for the last time," another voice intoned, stepping into the alley behind the larger demon. Red, bumpy skin and horns but no other remarkable features on this demon, but he still managed to catch her off guard. Dammit, Yumi,she cursed herself for being out of practice and not realizing there were two of them. "Look at this, at least you can string a sentence together faster than your friend here," She gripped the other bag, refusing to part with what was left of the noodles. "Maybe you can fill me in on why you''ve decided to ruin my dinner before I kill you." The red skinned demon stepped further towards them the other demon stood up again. From behind him, he revealed -- "Anotherbig ass knife?!" Her eyes narrowed with annoyance, "You can''t be original? You gotta come in with matching knifeys? What are you, best friends forever?" The red skinned demon raised the knife in her direction, "Talk all you want, but you''ll be begging for your life soon --" "-- you used the word meddled," she mocked, "like you''re some kind of villain from a children''s TV show. You can''t just point a knife at me like some big shot and expect --" He lunged, the other demon lunging with him from the other direction. She clicked her tongue, annoyed that they were smart enough to do baby''s-first-pincer but not smart enough to leave a full time worker alone after a shitty day in the office. She tossed the bag of noodles hard into the face of the red skinned demon, using the momentum of her twisting body to simultaneously kick the other demon away again -- he was big, so he didn''t go far, but far enough for her to sweep her leg under the other one and have him fall face first into the now open container of noodles he had just been pummeled with. "I sure hope you have your wallets on you," she said as she backed up again, her heel hitting the edge the alley, "because you''ll be paying for that." She clenched her fists as they rushed her again, focusing more on the red skinned demon as the knife would do far more damage to her than the other''s fists could. Once he swung wide she took her shot -- her mana ripping through the air at an intense speed and ripping through the very space in front of them. A portal, small enough to hopefully not deplete her mana but large enough for her to quickly grab the handle of the item she''d prepared for such emergencies was closed just as quickly as it was opened, a katana slicing through the air and the demons arm in seconds. He screamed, which was reasonable as the appendage fell to the ground. The yellow demon took a startled step backward, sputtering out, "Hhhooowww --" "No, nope," Yumi pointed the katana at him, "you''re definitelynot allowed to talk." She kept the blade pointed at him while she addressed the other demon. "You, however, better start talking." "Devorian Saintess..." It spat, grabbing at the bleeding stump in shock. She could see what seemed like simmering embers begin to close the wound. That was the annoying thing with demons -- you never knew what grab bag of powers came along with them. "You''ve ruined our plans for the last --" "You can still say ''meddled,'' you already used it once the damage is done." It glared at her, probably deciding the missing arm was more important than sassing back, "For months you and your little friendshave prevented us from making our mark on this silly human city. There are more of us, those you''ve wronged, and they will come --" "Wait, I''m sorry. What the hell did Ido?" The look on Yumi''s face contorted in confusion. She''d never seen this guy or his friend in her life, and certainly hadn''t spent any time thwarting any dastardly plans any time recently. "Do not act clueless. The Devorian Saintess is the one responsible for our failings. We tracked you through the saintly essence of your mana. Do not pretend you are not the --" "No, no I am, but I have no idea who the hell you are." She scoffed, "I mean, unless, like --" The yellow demon charged again at some unseen cue the red demon had given it -- the red demon''s wound cauterized enough to rush her again. She lifted her leg and planted her foot into the yellow demon''s chest, stopping him momentarily while she thought. The red demon hadn''t picked the knife back up, but managed to get her arm with his claws before she had slammed the handle of the katana into his forehead. "Unless you had the wrong Devorian Saint," she finished her sentence with great annoyance.
Many, many years ago The soft glow of the moon filtered through the tree leaves that blocked her view of the revelry down the hill. A child then, perhaps merely ten years old, nothing in the grand scheme of her life, looked upon the body of her mother on the ground outside their small home. She had always told her to hide when she saw people she didn''t know coming up the hill -- to never talk to anyone if her mother hadn''t introduced them to her herself. The hands that reached out to her belonged to one such person, a person she knew to trust. "You''re safe now," he said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as she had many times. He was breathless, turning her away from her mother''s corpse in a moment of compassion. "You''re safe now." A group of people she didn''t recognize muttered vague words of astonishment at the sight of her. She had never seen so many people at once, and it frightened her. Sensing this, the man gave her a pat on the back and brushed back the bangs that covered her face. She was relieved, at least, to see him. She placed her face in the crook of her neck to hide herself, her body trembling. "Kotaka," an elder stood in front of him, his gravely voice matching his withered appearance. "Look up to the sky, my son." And he did so, turning his face upward to the full dual moons of the demon world. Warm, bright light bathed him, over powering the smaller red moon that appeared full so rarely. Feeling the resonance of his mana between himself and the girl in his arms caused a tremor to roll through him. "You''ve done the right thing," the elder said, turning to walk away. But had he? He wasn''t sure he would ever actually know. Yumi''s farthest back memory was the moment Kotaka began walking down the hill, the hill she had been on her entire life until that point. The house, hardly a house by measure of most, engulfed and quickly overtook by flames.
A stick came down and slapped the back of her hand, which she had been told to place on the table and not move. As the instructor asked her question after question each wrong one had earned her another lash. "You''ve never told me these things," tears streamed down her face, but she refrained from sobbing -- she had already learned that made things worse. "how am I supposed to know them?" The priestess gave a heavy, dramatic sigh. "You are the Saintess. How do you notknow these things?" She pursed her lips, looking down at the red welts on the child''s hand with some pause. It was how things were done and had always been done. She walked around the room briefly, her robes swishing behind her. After she was done pacing she sat at the table across from Yumi, folding her legs beneath her as she did. In front of her was a child that was isolated not only from her true purpose, but from the whole of society for ten years. It was a blink of an eye to the Devora -- a blink of the eye for most demons, in fact. But it was still far too long for a Saintess, let alone the only one the Moon tribe had seen in hundreds of years. The oracle of her birth had been foreseen, but her identity hidden by her mother. Perhaps she had thought that she were doing the child a favor, denying her the care of the temple. Perhaps she was right to do so. For Iroha, who had been sold to the temple at birth, the child in front of her represented everything she had been trained for her entire life. She imagined a powerful saintess, a legendary power that would shake the very foundation of the Devora and bolster the tribe''s reputation against those who pushed the boundaries of their territory every day. What she got was a child who took weeks to even meet her eyes, and weeks more to even talk to her. It was her duty to instruct the Saintess, surely, but was it her duty to raise her as well? She studied the girl. She had gained weight the last five months. She had maybe even gotten taller. However, she still had the lean body of a malnourished child, and regardless of how many have tried she refused to have her hair cut, leading to her hair mostly covering her face. Iroha could only imagine the curtain of hair was there to break eye contact. Stolen novel; please report. "You were born with a blessed gift. It is your responsibility to know the sacred rituals and rites that the Moon tribe so that when the time comes you can use your gift for your people." The girl looked away, and for a moment beneath the hair Iroha thought she saw a fresh bruise. She knew the child wouldn''t let her get close enough to see if her eyes decieved her or not, but she still reached out -- as predicted, the child hit her arm away and glared at her with enough anger that she could sense it even though she couldn''t see it. Iroha was used to the head priest''s methods as well, and didn''t need to pry any further. Something inside her told her that they were approaching this entirely the wrong way -- in fact, a part of her would even say it felt like some sort of divine edict telling her to change course. But she was just a priestess, thankful in a way that there were a saintess to remove the attention from the other members of the temple. So not even a divine being is immune to the nature of this world,she thought sadly. Reserved, she stood again. "I do not believe this is working," she said, more to herself at first. Iroha addressed the girl after several long moments. "I was told that I must do whatever necessary to achieve results. It will be easier for you if you... concede what you can. However, I will not harm you again while you are in my care." The girl looked up at that, still silent but her hesitance to believe her clear. "My task was to awaken your saintly abilities so that you can assist your people. I do not believe this is right," she spoke plainly, though she wasn''t sure if what she were saying went above the child''s head. "I do not believe this is right..."
Devora were a type of demon with many tribes spread throughout the realm. No matter which tribe you found yourself in, the dynamic was typically the same. Devora worshipped and drew their power from the twin moons in the sky, that power being it''s most potent when both reached their apex full. Devorian mana was different than that of most demons -- it ebbed and flowed with the lunar cycles and between each other in proximity. As such, Devora were sensitive to these changes in mana, and those who could not channel their own were left with little recourse but to expend said mana or face corruption. A saint, Yumi was told, was a Devora given the power of the gods themselves to channel mana and balance it, restructure it, and feed it through those of their tribe. A saint, she was told, was as precious and rare as a jewel. The head priest''s hand struck her again and she fell to the floor, expressionless. She knew these things, of course. She knew of her people and their interconnected mana, she could feel it from the day her powers had awoken alone in that house on the hill. Even from there she could feel the pull and tug from the village below, the cry of the moon down to her from the sky above and the longing to join them in their revelry and dance. Her mother also ensured that she knew that if she had ever been discovered, she would live the rest of her life in these temple walls. A perfect, shining treasure. But as her time in the temple passed, months into years, she knew that things were not always as they seemed. Did her mother truly want her to keep her freedom? Or was it to get back at the village that shunned her for having a child on her own to begin with? She would never know. She longed to ask her, though she could not even remember her face. The priest pulled her up by her hair, something he did enough that she was too used to the stinging pain to react anymore. "You have been clothed and fed for twenty years and this is how you repay us? The people starve and you refuse to bless them. The children weep and you refuse to calm them," he kicked her hard in the stomach, sending her body rolling against the wooden floor. "The gods must be toying with us. Your mana screams the undeniable signature of a saintess, and yet we''re given a mockery who can do nothing." She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambled, his speech slurring as he stomped around the room. "No matter," he grumbled, "Dress yourself in your robes and prepare yourself for the eve. I will pray that you awaken soon, Saintess. You should pray too." At that he left, his lesson over. Two priestesses that ''served'' her rushed to her side, quickly employing their skills with mana to heal, at least on the surface, what marks may have lingered. "Lord Kotaka is coming," one reassured her, pulling her hair back as she did. As the years went by she did go through the motions as Iroha had suggested, her hair having been the last thing she gave them dominion over. At this news Yumi breathed a sigh of relief. "With Lord Kotaka here, the priest will want to put on a show of pretend. I''m glad he did not turn his attentions to you this time," it was said with some manner of untruthfulness. Yumi was not so selfless that she would wish to take a beating for someone else -- it was, however, what was expected of her to say. And so she said it, and the priestess believed her. "I am grateful for you, my lady." She bowed, as did the other. They were just the next in a long line of priestesses that were never allowed to get too close to her, and Yumi had stopped at this point trying to discover what happened to the attendants who would leave in the night and be replaced the next morning. None of her guesses were pretty. They readied her with skilled hands, dressing her in a multilayered robe befitting her station. Yumi hated it, but it was an easy thing to hate. She supposed even those who dressed like this every day never got used to the restrictive, heavy layers of expensive cloth. She was nothing more than a bird on display, after all. It had been two years since Kotaka''s last visit, as he was often sent to patrol the borders between the Moon tribe and their surrounding enemies. And they had many enemies. The man, broad shouldered and tanned with the stance and body of a warrior strode toward her as soon as her and her attendants entered the hall and embraced her in a warm hug -- she gladly returned it, knowing that as soon as he were sent off again she would be reprimanded for acting against her station. "My lady," he said in way of greeting, and her heart dropped. It had been many years since he had called her by her name, a matter she knew she couldn''t press. "I trust you find yourself well in my absence." She smiled, and wondered if he could tell that it did not reach her eyes. "All is well Lord Kotaka." As they made their way to their seats in the hall, others bowing as she passed them. They were nothing but faces to her, names she never bothered to remember. Kotaka, sitting beside her in a plush cushion, let a small moment of vulnerability pass over his face. "You look more and more like her each time I return," he said mournfully, recalling the mother that Yumi could not. She nodded to accept the compliment, not sure how to respond. But that night she looked in the mirror, trying to summon any memories as her eyes stared back from the cold surface.
The full moon was celebrated each month with collective revelry and connection among the village. Music and laughter traveled to the walls of the temple but never saw it''s way inside, taunting the saintess each month with what she was missing. It was improper, of course, for her to celebrate with the townsfolk. There were certain duties that were expected of her on nights such as these and they could not be conducted dancing in the moonlight like the rest. It was one of those nights, when like every month she attempted to call upon her saintly power that it answered for the first time. A pulse beneath her very flesh, separate from her own, not burning per se but intense and consuming -- a feeling so primal that she knew by instinct alone that she could not reveal that it had come to her. Devora, as demons, utilize mana in many ways. Most demons found their bloodlines restricted them to particular skills and abilities, such as those in animalistic clans that could only ever call the powers of nature. Devora were a rare difference, in that in that any individual could have any number of abilities. Saints were said to possess talents of immense strength, and Yumi could feel the truth in that statement that night. The strength, not hers exactly, lay just beyond her reach but finally in sight. She listened to the moon dance from beyond the walls with jealousy but for the first time a spark of hope. Perhaps things would change now that her powers answered her call, even if quietly. Once her duties were done and she was given leave to return to her quarters, she spent the night trying to call on that strange feeling until she could at least discover what her ability could possibly be. She had heard of Devora that could start fires with their mana, warriors that could lift a horse above their head. More simple things, too, such as the attendant that served her during her tenth year being able to imbue light into objects for short periods of time. It took two hours of trying for it to push forth -- a crackling, strange distortion in the air in front of her and then just like that a hole. A hole in the very air in front of her, perhaps as wide as the length of her finger and as tall as the width of her comb. Beyond the hole, it''s edges glowing faintly with the trail of her mana, was a field of grass and flowers bathed in the light of the moon. Her heart recognized it as the field beyond the house she had lived with her mother -- the field that she would lay in and listen to the songs of the birds and the buzzing of insects while her mother read to her in the summer sun. She swallowed painfully and sat there, curling her arms around her knees and just watching the wind blow the flowers through the looking hole in front of her. That night as she dreamed of better things, she actually believed they could be possible.
The day her powers were discovered was the day the priest no longer struck her. It was also the day the priest no longer had a right hand. It happened in seconds -- she was used to the beatings of course, unaware that they were never something a person should be used to, but something about that day was particularly violent. Trouble at the borders had everyone on edge, and even though Yumi hadn''t ever left the temple she was now being told how to take her own life should the enemy invade. It was a simple comment that came from her lips before she could think better of it. "What would be the difference if I were a prisoner somewhere else as opposed to a prisoner here?" She had asked. A gasp from one of the priestesses was the only indication she had that she had said her thoughts out loud before a swift crack sounded on the side of her head. For the first time in the near seventy years that she had been in the temple that the priest had climbed on top of her after during a beating, and the first time in a long, long while that she had actually felt fear. The other priestesses, of course, did nothing. She thought ruefully about the irony of being a saintess that had no one to protect her, despite so many people claiming to serve her. The priest struck her again, her vision snapping green before she nearly whited out. It was his scream that kept her conscious -- and when her eyes were able to refocus she saw him curled away from her, grabbing at a severed limb as blood poured from it and pooled on the floor below. The sight of it had her stomach turning, and she glanced to the priestesses hoping they knew what happened but they recoiled from her. "You''re a monster," the priest laughed, his senses gone, "never a saint but clearly a monster!" One of the priestesses ran for help while another tended his wound. It was only when she was alone that night, conjuring another portal to view the outside world through that she saw it -- a short, stumpy severed hand that had clearly been picked apart by some animal. Yumi hadn''t been quite sure what had happened before, but then she had realized that as he had come to strike her she instinctually opened a portal to defend herself and it had closed just as fast, passing the priests hand through it and severing it clean from the bone within seconds. From then, she no longer got called to attend his ''lessons.'' She no longer had him pressing her to awaken her powers, no longer had attendants to dress and bathe her, and with a soft clickof a lock she no longer had the luxury of leaving her room. For five years the only company she had was the food that was passed underneath her door and the monthly songs and dances under the moon that remained out of her reach.
News of Kotaka''s death came far too suddenly and far too carelessly. A priestess mentioned it in passing, as if describing the weather, while sliding a tray of food beneath the door. A tussle at the border, she had said, and that was it. Yumi hadn''t known her father, but Kotaka was as close to one as she would ever get. It took her years to reconcile that fact with the knowledge that he had been the reason her mother had been killed and herself brought to the temple. When she had realized that at first, she hated him. Truly. But introspection and experience taught her that the outside view of the temple was far different than the knowledge of its inner workings. Most of the village thought that the saintess were treated preciously, with care, that she were able to help heal the sick and bless those who needed it. The reality of the matter was that she had refused to call upon her powers, leaving the priests in charge of the temple to lie and hide her ineptitude. Regardless of that fact, Kotaka must have believed that he were doing what was best for her. She did not have the time to mourn him, fate would decide. That night under the light of a dual full moon, the tussle at the border turned into something far larger than that and the Moon tribe found itself attacked and invaded. The sounds of music and dancing outside her windows turned into the shrill screams of the village. She had frozen completely, panic setting in and intensifying the moment she smelled smoke. Yumi banged at the door, knowing that there were usually a guard or two in the vicinity. "Let me out!! Let me out of here!!" She yelled with no answer until her voice was raw with smoke and her head light and dizzy. When the door did finally open, it was not due to helping hands. The priest looked over her as she coughed and sputtered, and she could see that he was overtaken with the situation as well. Angry, always angry, he lunged at her, his remaining hand wrapping around her neck. "I should have killed you," he growled, his grip tightening as she struggled. "I should have killed you then --" There was a gurgle from this throat, his eyes widening in fear as she had begun to get light headed from the suffocation of not only his hand but the smoke. He rolled to the side as someone pushed him off of her, a stained sword sliding out of him as they did. The smell of blood and the scene of death beside her made Yumi feel as though she were out of her body entirely, as though she were watching the carnage from somewhere else. Whomever the person was that saved her, even though she felt as though it was more by mistake than anything, swung their blade hard to fling the blood off of it. She couldn''t see them through the now thickening smoke of the burning temple, but there was the strange call of energy that all Devora had between them. In her panic, she hadn''t suppressed her mana -- there was a moment where she reminded herself that she was supposed to commit suicide in these moments before she passed out, only managing to hear their voice call "I''ve found the saintess!" before succumbing to the dark. Chapter One The fading scent of smoke remained potent enough to rouse her to semi-consciousness, where she became aware of the rocking motion around her and the muffled sounds of animals and conversation, barely perceptible through her pounding headache. Her throat was rough and scratchy -- from the smoke, from the assault that she was still too groggy to fully recall, she couldn''t particularly tell and wasn''t sure if it truly mattered. It took a few attempts to open her eyes, the rolling in her head intense enough to feel as though they were being forcibly closed. When she did, she was staring up at what must have been a wooden roof, with light coming from the cracks of a partially drawn window blind. She may not have been too savvy to the ways of the world, but she at least knew what a carriage was. What she didn''t know was where the carriage was heading¡ªthough a quick inventory of her situation made it clear she had no choice in the matter. Both wrists were secured in padded cuffs, the restraints bolted firmly to the carriage wall. The empty space around her felt strangely significant. The moments before she''d lost consciousness were coming back in fragments. She could only assume she was now a prisoner. The priestesses of the Moon Tribe had been explicit about the horrors that awaited captured Saintesses, drumming into her the importance of taking her own life before allowing such a fate. She hadn''t even had the chance¡ªa realization that filled her with an unsettling mixture of guilt and relief. Did she yell? Did she thrash about and make a scene? A thought occurred to her then -- was it possible that she would be able to use her powers to cut these chains like she had done the priest''s hand? If she were able to do that, perhaps once the carriage doors opened she''d be able to surprise whomever had her and escape. It wasn''t a horrible plan. She had never done something like that on purpose before, however she didn''t think it would be too hard. It was, after all, as simple as opening and closing the portal on top of the chain. Perhaps it would have been easy in most other situations, but her spiking anxiety had her first few attempts at using her power flop spectacularly. Okay, Yumi, she told herself, your situation doesn''t change regardless of you being able to get out of these chains. Just makes you a little better off. Take a breath. And she did, centering herself before trying again. The edges of the world around her ripped, a portal opening between the links of the chain and instantly splitting them apart without her even needing to close the portal. She hadn''t thought of that, but she supposed it did make sense. After all, she was displacing what was there with a whole other -- other what, exactly? She didn''t have long to think about that, though, as the carriage came to a sudden stop. She only had enough time to hone in and remind herself to charge whoever opened the door and push past them before the door did exactly that. She moved to shoulder check whoever it was, only for a hand to meet her forehead and push her back with very little effort. "Alright, none of that now," a voice said, the contact of their gloved hand to her forehead shocking her into falling backward onto her rear. She glared up in annoyance at whomever it was, though her eyes had not yet adjusted to the sunlight that had accompanied the person. He wore what looked like some sort of armor, similar to what she had seen Kotaka wear on numerous occasions. She could feel the tell-tale mana signature of the Devora. He must have been a warrior, at least to some degree, which made her plans of shoving past him far less likely. Still the almost taunting look in his eyes as he examined her sent an angry shiver down her spine. His hands pulled the chain where it now dangled against the wall, observing with great interest the link that was clean cut with no discerning explanation as to how it had been done. Instead of looking annoyed, she was surprised that he looked almost impressed. "Nice to see the great Saintess of the Moon Tribe has graced the land of the living. I suppose you thought no one would be able to feel the huge surge of mana it took for you to do this?" He turned around, gesturing something to someone outside the carriage. She peeked around him, realizing they must be setting some sort of camp up. What had to be at least a dozen warriors stood outside. "Now let''s imagine you did manage to knock me over, somehow, even though you weigh about next to nothing and have zero muscle. What was your plan then, Saintess? Unless you feel confident about fighting twenty highly skilled soldiers, in which case I am open to letting you try." He smirked down at her, blue eyes gleaming, "I''m sure it''d be quite fun to watch." His complete disregard of her and refusal to see her as a threat had her far more riled up than she would have expected herself to be. But then, she was almost surprised with herself to be attempting to escape at all. It was as she had told the priest, what was one prison exchanged for another? A huge surge of mana, he had said -- She hadn''t even realized they''d be able to sense it from the outside. As if reading her mind, the warrior continued, "and then what? Where would you go? Do you even know where you are?" He seemed actually curious, but she didn''t feel like gracing him with a response. He sighed, running a hand through his purple hair. With a fluid movement he came into the carriage, lifting her by her arm and setting her back on the bench-like seat and taking a seat across from her in turn, crossing his arms and leaning back. Yumi eyed him with suspicion. The door remained open so she could see the group of men pitching tents and someone starting a fire. So wherever they were, she reckoned, it was far enough from wherever they were going that they couldn''t get there in a day. She eyed the bags of supplies that some carried off of their six-legged beasts, one of them being pulled away from the front of the carriage -- they had enough supplies for several days, it seemed. Her eyes narrowed as the wheels turned in her still groggy head. The man across from her studied her with some seriousness, "Are you unable to speak?" He asked, placing a finger on his mouth as if to indicate he was deeply thinking, "Or perhaps you''re shocked to silence by my charms. It does happen, I''m afraid." "I''m afraid I must inform you that''s simply impossible," she shot back "You would have to be charming for that to be the case." At her response, she could hear at least one person laughing from outside the carriage. To her surprise, the man in front of her seemed to be more pleased than upset at her quip. "Ay, she''s got you there Shin," an older looking fellow peeked between them from the door of the carriage, "You''re about as charming as an arrow in the back, and I would know. The little lady''s tent is all set up, as it were." "The little lady," the one called Shin intoned, "has seen fit to free herself from her restraints." At his words the other warrior looked down at the severed chain with some alarm, more so than Shin himself had. "Being as such, I suppose the little lady''s tent is now our tent." "You can''t share a tent with," the man''s voice lowered to a whisper, "with a saintess." At that Yumi raised her eyebrow, noting the now annoyed look on Shin''s face. "So it''s a secret that I''m a saintess," she said, rather loudly. "Is that something you don''t want your men to know? That I''m a --" her voice got louder as she spoke, until Shin leaned over and placed a gloved hand over her mouth. The other man gasped with an amount of scandalization. "Lord Shin, that''s blasphemy!" "Lord Shin, so you must be of a noble house?" Yumi asked, though what came out was muffled and unintelligible. She could guess from the even more annoyed look on Shin''s face that her taunting question came out just fine. The other man, catching onto his slip up, attempted to correct it. "I mean, Captain Shin," which frankly just made it worse. "Valdeer." Shin said, his tone dry. "How about you go find another cot to place in the lady''s tent and I''ll see if I can convince our guest to forget the last thirty seconds, hmm?" "Yes, sir," Valdeer took the dismissal as it were, slouching away as Shin removed his hand from Yumi''s face. "Very covert operation you have going on. I particularly like the clear understanding of secrecy your man has." "Yes, well," Shin leaned back again, a tired look replacing the annoyed one. "They say the stronger the man the weaker the brain." "So which are you? Strong or daft?" Her quick response had him laughing, which surprised her greatly and snapped her to her senses. She hadn''t yet even figured out where they were going or what was happening to her once she got there but she had already begun arguing with who was obviously the head of the operation. At least she felt impressed with her own guts. "Most of the men here are my men, and as such know that we have a saintess in our midst. There are however several demons here as hired mercenaries who cannot feel the mana resonance between Devora and saint." He assessed her expression, noting the confusion. "I''m going to guess you may not know this, but the majority of demons out there wouldn''t have the same reverence towards a saintess that the Devora do. If you crossed an outsider the wrong way, you''d likely be captured and bartered off between tribes, or killed as some sort of statement." At her frown he leaned forward for emphasis, "So, yes. You are welcome to loudly proclaim yourself a saintess in the camp. For extra oomph you could even put on a little show with your mana and really get their attention. Just know that there''s only so much my men will do to protect the captured saintess of the enemy." She swallowed, "so I am an enemy," she said, confirming his statement. Something crossed his eyes, perhaps annoyance though something told her it wasn''t directed at her. "At the moment," he replied cryptically. "But I''m sure you''d rather be my enemy than some sweaty mercenary''s enemy. Trust me." The irony of her captor asking for her trust was not lost on her, but she did suppose the evil she knew was better than that she did not. As she surveyed the men outside, she could easily tell which ones were other kinds of demons by their appearance -- some with spikes growing from them in places, one with four arms, some with long sharp teeth that extended past their lips. She shivered, "I''ve never seen... not-Devora before..." she admitted quietly, almost wishing she hadn''t. "Well then, it should be an easy choice," he pulled back his lip to reveal his teeth, "I''m a lot less pointy, I promise." Though he did have rather pointed canines which Yumi noticed with some trepidation. Valdeer returned at that moment, "I''ve set up the tent with the spare cot, sir," he seemed almost uncomfortable at that fact. "Should we move the lady to the tent now or...?" Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "Dinner first, I should think," Shin stated. "With the men?" Shin gave Valdeer a look. "We''re trying to keep up the appearance of a poor captured noble as a prisoner of war. It was enough that you lot convinced me to have padded shackles. If we escort her to the largest, fanciest tent in the compound and deliver her food personally I think that''d draw some attention." Valdeer bowed and left to inform the others. Shin stood and grabbed the chain to the shackles that remained on Yumi''s wrists. "Were you just going to wear these the rest of your life?" He asked. "I hadn''t thought that far yet," Yumi snapped at him, pulling against the chains hard in an attempt to wrench them from his grip. Shin''s eyes flickered with amusement, but he pulled them hard, back the other direction, forcing her to tumble into him. "Careful," he pulled the chains above her head, forcing her arms to follow suit. "I already knew you hadn''t thought very far. I certainly don''t mind the banter, saintess, but you are a prisoner." The embarrassment showed strongly on her face, her cheeks painted red with it. She opened her mouth to quip back, but he had turned and begun leading her out of the carriage using the chain. She had to nearly jump to not trip coming out of it, her body still feeling weak from the events previous. He led her through the camp, taking the more scenic route to their destination as if to show her off to those staring at them. The Devorian warriors whispered among themselves, some refusing to make eye contact, and the other demons, well... She wasn''t sure how she''d describe the looks that they gave her. But they made her stomach feel ill. When they made it to the eating area, which was mostly makeshift chairs from stumps, supply bags and the like, she noticed a slight commotion around one particular seating arrangement¡ªa low wooden stool that had been covered with several layers of woven cloth like cloaks and what appeared to be a small cushion fashioned from a rolled blanket. Two warriors were making final adjustments, stepping back with respectful nods as she approached. Shin paused, his gaze flicking between Yumi and the clearly prepared seat, his eye twitched almost imperceptibly. Without a word, he strode forward, dropped himself into the cushioned seat, and stretched his legs out in front of him. He fixed the warriors with a pointed look, and they all quickly looked away and pretended to be in the middle of something else. A wooden crate was dragged into the circle and Shin gestured for Yumi to take a seat. The wood was uncomfortable and rough on her bottom. "They really roll out the red carpet for their captain around here, huh?" She muttered at Shin, risking the sarcasm again in front of a crowd. "What can I say? My men love me," he smugly retorted as he leaned forward to accept a bowl of soup that was handed to him. He took a spoonful of it and tried it before handing it to Yumi. She stared at the bowl momentarily, realizing that he was ensuring it was safe to eat before she ate any. The possible danger of her situation sunk in on her again, but deep down she wondered if the fear of death was something she needed to hang up on. Once they reached their destination she was dead anyway. And if she weren''t, she would wish she was. The soup was richer than she expected, with wild grains and some sort of flavorful meat. Yumi allowed herself to enjoy it, keeping her gaze at the bowl instead of at the curious stares she could feel boring into her. Once she was finished she looked up, and they looked away. It felt awkward holding an empty bowl as the silence stretched on, her headache and sore body starting to get the best of her, so she was almost thankful when Shin, who had been deep in conversation with another warrior, turned his attentions on her. "We still have a long trek ahead of us, and in the interest of not sharing a carriage with a saintess that smells of blood and smoke I suppose it''s time we get you cleaned up." Yumi looked down at her torn and scorched robes, realizing for the first time since she''d woken the state she must be in. Still, she didn''t like the implications of his words. "I can stay in the carriage alone just fine," she said, affronted. He gave the manacles and the broken chain attached to it a sardonic look, "Yes, we''ve proven that just fine, haven''t we? No, I don''t think you''ll be given much privacy for some time." He stood, gesturing for her to follow him. When she got up with a huff he said in a lower voice, "you look like you''re about to collapse and I''d rather not carry you." She didn''t like that he was right. She hoped that, at whatever destination they were traveling towards, she wouldn''t have to meet this man again. He clearly had a habit of getting under people''s skin for the fun of it. They walked toward a large canvas tent set up in the center of the camp. "Valdeer," Shin called as if he knew the man would be watching, "Fetch some water and clean cloth. Something for the lady to wear as well. I''m sure we have some training clothes stashed away somewhere." The inside of the tent was surprisingly spacious for what she had seen on the outside but was still rather cramped quarters. There was space for two cots and a small off-shoot room separated by a cloth that was vaguely opaque and looked like someone had tied it to both sides of the tent as an afterthought. Valdeer arrived with the supplies just a few moments after they had stepped inside and left just as quickly. Shin unraveled the cloth and set the folded pair of clothes to the side. "Now, here''s where things get a little tricky. I''m going to have to take off your restraints and you''re going to have to resist immediately trying to run off." "And where would I go?" She threw his previous words back at him, to which he smirked with some satisfaction. "Good to see we''re learning." he produced a key and grabbed the manacles, unlocking them and letting them fall to the ground. "Rather useless in the state you''ve put them in anyway." He sat on the cot on the other side of her, a fleeting look of uncertainty crossing his face just quick enough to wonder if she had been seeing things. "What?" She asked as she rubbed her now free but very sore wrists. "I do wish you hadn''t prevented me from giving you more privacy," he responded as he tossed the folded training clothes at her feet. "But alas. You have water, you have rags, and you have clothes. I''m sure you''re not used to bathing yourself but surely you can manage a wipe down." "I''m not undressing here." She brought her arms to her chest, as if she were already attempting to obscure his view. "My current robes are just fine." "They are tearing at the seams and half burned. You are more than welcome to stay in them but I promise that one more day of travel will have you changing your mind." "One more day out of... how many days?" She probed for information about their destination, not sure if Shin was interested in providing it. "If we continue making good time, five or less. However this lot rarely makes good time and I''m sure will be far too worried about the well-being of our guest to travel quickly." She was sure he was being sarcastic, as the well-being of a prisoner was hardly anything she expected them to fret over. Yumi hadn''t been allowed many books to study but she at least knew of the few Devorian tribes along their borders -- though unfortunately, she didn''t quite grasp the reality of the distance between them. She''d never traveled outside of her village, only heard stories of Kotaka''s travels in which he was gone for months at a time. "I don''t know where we''re going," she admitted. "I don''t suppose you plan to tell me, do you?" "How about I turn around, you promise not to hit me over the head with that water basin, and I''ll answer whatever questions you have while you clean up?" The response surprised her, "Is that to your benefit?" She found herself asking, hoping in doing so she wouldn''t convince him to change his mind. "I''m a man of compromise," he said simply. "And I doubt anything you ask me would be something so horrible that I couldn''t answer." She thought for a moment, trying to find any evidence of deception in his face but not knowing the man well enough to say one way or the other. Seeing no other way to get information readily available, she agreed. "Fine. But don''t turn back around until I say so." Shin raised both of his hands and swiveled, his feet hanging off the other end of the cot. "I will have you know I do have very good ears. They''re very attuned to the sounds of women running away." "Is that really something you want to brag about?" She questioned, and the choking noise he made proved that he hadn''t quite thought about what he had said before he had said it. "Questions, saintess." Yumi stared at him for a few moments to make sure he was still looking the other way and then undid her robes and started to wipe the soot off of her arms, "Where are we going?" "Through the Prevost forest," a name she didn''t recognize, of course, "to the domain of the Crane tribe," and a name that she did. The Crane tribe bordered the Moon tribe in the direction of the setting sun, and she had often heard Kotaka talk of the many skirmishes their borders normally had. Bruising on her neck had her flinching, in the reflection of the tub of water she could see the marks the priest left -- red and angry. She thought about asking if that were where he was from, but it seemed like a waste of a question. "The priestesses that were in my residence?" Although it had been a long while since she had seen any of their faces, a part of her still cared about them. "To my knowledge," he said without flair, "anyone within the main temple aside from yourself were killed." It was the answer she expected but the confirmation twisted her gut into an uncomfortable tightness. A complicated guilt. "Why? To what end was the Moon tribe invaded?" "Retaliation, mostly. Not sure what was expected when borders that had been defined for hundreds of years begin to get pushed like that. Endless patrols and fighting had to come to a head sometime." A part of her cared, but a surprisingly larger part of her did not. She had spent her entire life being told that she was there for the people -- but in reality, she could count the number of times on one hand that she had been allowed to interact with the village at all. She wondered if she would even be able to grieve while she had a chance. There was a moment of silence as she tugged on the rough, baggy training clothes. She hated to admit that being slightly more clean did feel rather nice. "Will it be quick?" She asked quietly, her mind far beyond the next five days. "It''s a pretty simple journey. The forest at the tail end will probably be the worst of it, with the bonasus pulling the supplies." "That''s not what I meant," she muttered, "Those big beasts, they''re called bonasus?" "You''ve never seen a bonasus before?" He seemed genuinely surprised at this. "You can turn around," she told him, fluffing her long hair against her back. He did so and appraised her for a few moments. "No, I haven''t. Are they very common?" He thought on that for a moment, "Not particularly, but the Moon tribe had quite a few. Two of the ones in our convoy are spoils, in fact. What did you mean?" "Pardon?" Now face to face, she could see the discerning expression and gears turning behind his bright blue eyes. "You said that wasn''t what you meant. What did you --" realization dawned on him then, and he stepped backward as if she had hit him. "You think --" "Is that not to be expected?" Her voice was calmer than she would have expected, under the circumstances. "I am, after all, your enemy and prisoner," having his own words thrown back at him had Shin let out an exasperated huff of air. "First of all, saintess," He clenched his fists at his sides, as if he were terribly offended. "No one here would have bothered going through the effort of healing you and dragging you back only to have you killed. It''d have been far less bothersome to just kill you in the temple with your people." "Second," he started before she could interject, her eyes saying she clearly wanted to, "You''re out of your mind if you think any tribe out there would kill the only saintess born to Devora in the last eight-hundred-and-some-odd years. Prisoner, yes, enemy, at your design, but with cooperation these are temporary labels." He sat back down on the cot as if she had winded him somehow, "I''m sure it won''t be as privileged as the life you''ve led so far but you will be alive." She wasn''t sure if that was a blessing or curse. "Am I supposed to believe you?" "Yes, though I don''t expect you to and I don''t blame you for keeping your wits about you. It''s the smart thing to do." He stood, gesturing at the empty cot. "Your bed, my lady," he said with some sharpness. "I''ll be keeping watch tonight in case... Well. I''ll just be keeping watch. I''ll trust you not to try and sneak off." It almost seemed as though he was escaping as he walked back through the entrance of the tent, leaving her there even though he had made a show earlier of having to watch her. Yumi plopped down onto the cot -- it was surprisingly comfortable, more so than her futon with thin blankets that she had in the temple. She churned the information around in her head. If they weren''t planning to kill her, what did that mean for her future? And what of her instructions to kill herself instead of being captured? She had been told it was due to the brutality of the enemy, but if she were the only saintess born in so long was it more so no one else could ''have her''? Her head pounded, having never really stopped since she had awoken in the carriage. Shin had seemed genuinely offended at the accusation. He was a stranger to be sure, but she was starting to get the lay of his expressions well enough. Was it worth trying to run away, then? He could be lying. In fact, it was more likely than not, the more she thought of it. It''d be easy to keep a riled prisoner in line if they didn''t expect the worst at the end of the road. The sounds of the camp continued unabated¡ªboisterous and alive despite Shin''s dismissive order for her to rest. Warriors called to one another, creatures snorted, and someone played a stringed instrument in the distance. So different from the temple''s stifling silence. Her thoughts gnawed at her, too numerous to catch before exhaustion pulled her under. Her last conscious realization was oddly comforting: if what Shin said was true, she had something she''d never truly possessed in all her years of captivity¡ªa future, however uncertain it might be. Chapter Two The trees in the Prevost forest were tall and overarching, shaped differently than the trees that surrounded the temple of the Moon tribe. The trunks for the most part were bare, the long branches creating a canopy despite the distance between them. The bonasus were able to navigate the trees and roots better than Yumi would have expected from their size. When she woke in the tent that first day, she had asked to see one of them up close -- but they were so big she lost her nerve when Shin invited her to pet one. From her seat in the carriage she eyed the ropes her hands were tied with and the man sitting in front of her, legs crossed, head propped on his hand and looking out the carriage window as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. The ropes, he had said, were more for show for the other demons who traveled with them. They hadn''t known she''d broken the chain on the other manacles, and given her poor physical condition he doubted that they''d believe she could even unite a knot, let alone cut a rope. "I''m not that weak..." She had muttered, but it was true that she felt more and more weary as the journey continued. It had started to get worse after that first night, but she could feel the beginning of sickness starting to weigh her body down. By the third morning what had begun as a dull headache had turned into a full blown fever. She was determined not to make a big deal of it, but it was hard to hide the small waves of dizziness every time she stood up. Shin''s periodic glances in her direction and the worried mutters of the men had become frequent enough that when they stopped earlier than usual for the night, just past sundown, she knew the jig was up. As she stepped out of the carriage she nearly collapsed -- thankfully Valdeer was close enough that he was able to catch her by the elbow and help her sit down. She noticed a few of the demon mercenaries giving them a wide berth, surely worried that whatever ailment had struck her was contagious. "We don''t have a healer in the convoy, captain," Valdeer muttered and Shin placed another wet cloth on Yumi''s forehead, "Should we detour? There is a compound not too far --" "We''re not wandering into some uninvolved demon compound on the off chance they have a healer and are willing to part with them for however long this takes to pass," Shin said, "end of discussion." "I''ll be fine," Yumi cut in, her clammy hands pressing against her eyes. "It''s just a fever." Shin gave her a hard look, almost like one would a child. "Valdeer, watch the camp," he said, picking Yumi up before she had time to argue. His grip on her was tighter than she felt was strictly necessary, but she was almost thankful for it as the world had begun spinning. "I''m going to take the lady to the lake we passed a bit back." "The lake? At this hour?" Valdeer asked, a scandalized look crossing his features once again. Shin''s reply came with exaggerated patience, making Yumi believe Shin felt as though he were dealing with two children. "To cool her fever," as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. As understanding dawned on Valdeer''s face he gave Shin a quick bow. "Yes captain, I''ll hold down the fort." Shin turned on his heel and walked briskly into the forest carrying the saintess in his arms. She had at some point wrapped her hands around his neck, terrified that she''d wobble and fall, but his grip stayed firm even though the rest of her felt far from it. He had been muttering to himself as they approached the lake, what sounded almost like curse words though Yumi didn''t quite understand him due to her disorientation. "I don''t want to go in the water," she groggily said as he set her down on a boulder with as flat a surface as he could find. "You''re not going in the water," he gripped her chin in his gloved hand, pulling her face side to side to examine her. "I don''t know what kind of stunt you think you''re pulling here but it''s not going to help you to treat yourself this way." She looked up at the man with a confused look on her clearly-out-of-it face. "What are you talking about?" He gave her a pointed look then, giving her a few moments to come clean. When she gave him another look, one that read ''what the hell is wrong with you?'' he realized that she wasn''t bluffing. "You''ve been pulling in mana for days," he said as a means to prod her, "ever since that first night." She looked offended at that, "No I haven''t!" How would she even do that? The moonlight filtering through the trees cast strange shadows across Shin''s face as his expression shifted from accusation to disbelief. He released her chin and took a half-step back, studying her with new eyes. "You genuinely don''t know, do you?" His voice had lowered, the edge of frustration replaced by something more complex. "Your body is literally overflowing with mana. It''s why you''re feverish¡ªyour body can''t contain it all." Yumi swayed slightly on her feet, the trees around them blurring at the edges of her vision. She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to make sense of his words through the fog of fever. "That''s not possible," she insisted, though with less conviction than before. "I would know if I was... absorbing mana. Wouldn''t I?" The question came out smaller than she intended, betraying a lifetime of uncertainty about her own abilities. It shrunk her back to her youth, to lines of red welts on her hands for questions she had never been told the answer to. Shin ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she was beginning to recognize as one of his tells for genuine concern rather than theatrical exasperation. "Every saint knows how to regulate their mana flow. It''s literally the first thing..." He trailed off, letting out a breath of air as if he were trying hard to control his temper. Despite this, his voice couldn''t hide his sarcasm, "Did you think full moons were just for dancing and lounging around?" The accusation struck a nerve that Yumi hadn''t even known was still exposed. Something about his phrasing had her feeling almost ashamed -- She knew, of course, that Devorian moon festivals had the overarching purpose of balancing mana. She knew as well that it was the duty of those with saintly powers to assist in that endeavor. However, "I''ve never taken part," her cheeks were red with humiliation alongside the fever. "I wasn''t allowed outside the temple grounds during the full moons," or ever. Her admission hung in the air like something physical between them, and through her daze she felt like she had said something she wasn''t supposed to -- like a child having been caught telling the secrets trusted to them by adults. Shin had gone utterly still, his frustration wiped from his face entirely. Instead, he wore a mask of first confusion, and then incredulity, as if someone had told him that bonasus could fly. "You can''t be serious." She had no lies that she could offer, only a vague feeling of humiliation that she felt angry at herself to feel. She knew it wasn''t her fault. The silence between them was filled with the sounds of insects, the lapping of water against the lakeshore, and the very distant sounds of camp reminding them that they had places to be. "Well," he said, an attempt at brevity, "I realize you''re probably stuck in your fantasies of being a poor mistreated saintess at the whims of her terrible and ruthless enemy, but -- " he glanced up at the moons above, cataloging the potential of their effectiveness. "I certainly wouldn''t want to have the guilt of you dying a painful and completely avoidable death on my shoulders." The words startled her -- She knew that being overrun with mana was painful and potentially dangerous, but he had to be exaggerating. Before she could question him any further on his statement he bit the cloth of his glove and pulled it off with his teeth, his other hand holding her steady so that she wouldn''t teeter off of the rock and into the lake. "I can''t say I''ve ever done this before," there was something in the way that he said it, as if he were telling a joke that only he would understand, "But I understand it in theory. Devora absorb mana, saints balance that mana, yadda yadda." As he spoke he held his hand up, his fingers straight and waiting. "It should be easy for me to pull whatever excess you have out of you." "There''s a reason saints are supposed to absorb mana," she reminded him, "normal Devora can''t hold the same amount of mana that a saint can." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "True," he acquiesced, "But I don''t need to hold all of it. Just whatever extra you have." He wiggled his splayed hand impatiently then, and she sighed and met his fingers with hers. She had thought perhaps that they would be warm, but they were not -- his fingers were cold, rough and calloused. He intertwined their fingers then, and she could feel the warmth of her own hand warming his up, until the temperature equalized. In her already long life, she realized, this was the first time she had ever held someone''s hand. At first nothing happened. Yumi was sure she''d be able to tell him he was mistaken, that mana had nothing to do with it and it was just a normal fever. But then there was a subtle pull beneath her skin. Not painful, but unmistakable -- it began where their fingertips touched and traveled down her arm, pulling at her from her core. Almost as if a thread she hadn''t known was tied around her heart was being pulled out of her. Her breath caught. It felt like it should be painful, but it wasn''t. It was a pressure that was being alleviated, a splinter being removed after days of irritation. Although her body didn''t feel immediately better, she still felt a great relief as Shin took a deep breath in concentration -- his breaths measured, and deliberate. The mana was concentrated enough that bits of it were visible, the glow pounding with each of her heartbeats. Or was it his heartbeat? Perhaps both of theirs. It was mesmerizing. She had no idea something like this could happen outside of a dual full moon. And even then, she had never really understood the feeling. Then something changed. For just one moment, his rhythm faltered. A pianist hitting the wrong key in an otherwise flawless performance. In that instant of unexpected disruption, she felt his energy burning against hers, her excess filling spaces within him designed precisely to hold it before just as instantly the feeling was gone. "You''re --" she breathed, eyes widening. "Concentrating," he cut her off sharply, but the damage had been done. She had the lay of him now, clearly having experienced something intimate within his mana that for some reason he did not want her to know. His eyes met hers for just a moment, a silent plea for discretion mingled with an undercurrent of fear. The final moments of the transfer of mana between them passed in charged silence, both of them hyper aware for different reasons. When he released her from his grip, he did so with a dramatic exhale of breath. "Better?" His voice was carefully controlled as he flexed his fingers, avoiding eye contact. "Yes," Yumi said simply. She wasn''t sure where to go from here, as her mind was racing with the implications of what she had just felt. She may be sheltered, but even she realized the seriousness of what she had just uncovered. She opened her mouth, as if to ask, and he picked up on her intentions almost immediately. "No," was his only response as he stood up. "It will probably be a day or two before you''re really feeling alright again. But I''ve done what I could." What you could do was more than a normal person would be able to, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. Although the urge to call him out on what she had just sensed, though muted and subdued, ate at her with impatience she thought better of it. She was, after all, still their prisoner. "It''s not my business..." She told him tactfully as they walked back to camp. "I''ll keep it to myself." He gave a grunt that said ''I don''t want to talk about it, but thanks'' and that was that. Until it wasn''t. As if sensing something she could not, Shin stood up with a jolt, his polearm in his hands quicker than she could see. There was something tense in the air, the smell of ozone permeating and overpowering that of the plant life around them. He had turned to look out into the wood, and without looking back swept his arm backward, his fingers splayed in a silent command to stay put. She heard the growling then, low and deep. There was something like a disappointed click of Shin''s tongue as he registered the threat that Yumi hadn''t yet understood -- until two demons that she had recognized from the camp became visible through the bush. "And this," he said with a sigh, "is why it''s so hard to get good help these days." As if taking his sarcasm as a cue, the two demons both lunged forward and Yumi fell to the ground, covering her face and squeezing her eyes shut in panic. The sounds that proceeded were wet and visceral, punctuated by choked gasps and the dull thud of something heavy falling to the floor. "You can get up, saintess," Shin said simply. Shaking, she let herself take a look around and immediately regretted it. The meaty sinew and cut in half bodies were enough to have her dry heaving, the first she had ever seen of such an act in her life. Yumi gasped for air a few times, unable to feel any of it hitting her lungs. "Shit," Shin muttered, unclipping his cloak and quickly covering her with it. "I''m sorry," he said with some sincerity, "that was thoughtless of me." When she didn''t move, he instead picked her up, trudging through the scene with her in his arms. "I will make an effort to ensure you don''t have to see such things for the remainder of our journey," he reassured her as she began to hear the noises of camp -- instead of the boisterous enjoyment she had heard previously, she instead heard the faint roar of battle cries. "However, it seems as though that''ll be impossible for tonight." Hearing the sounds of fighting from the camp, Yumi felt her insides twist and tighten. She had never been around such violence -- she thought back to the sickening feeling she''d have seeing the priest at the temple strike one of the priestesses, the way that even though she weren''t close to them she still preferred to be the one taking the strike. Shin set her down just outside the camp, on the other side of bushes that allowed her to still see the camp but provided her with an amount of cover. She pulled the cloak down farther over her face as Shin rushed into the fight, not wanting to see the carnage that she heard all too well. Rationally, she knew that this was the way the demon world worked. She had been told time and time again that survival of the fittest was the truest form of endurance, but it was different seeing it up close. It seemed that any form of violence was too much for her. A part of her couldn''t help it though, and she peeked just under the hood of the cloak to see the scene in front of her. In the middle of it all was Shin, slashing at demons with his weapon with aching fluidity. It was violent and gruesome, but there was a sense of freedom in his movements that she had never had before in her life. The ability to protect himself, and his men. It wasn''t until that moment that she knew it was something she had been missing. An ugly feeling curled inside of her that she had felt many times before but never like this -- She was horribly and painfully jealous. A blur of movement caught her eye as one demon who spotted her in her hiding spot lunged towards her. Before she could even process the danger there was a flash of red as the demon''s body fell in two pieces. Shin immediately re-engaged with the rest of the fighting, as if there were no thought to his actions, just instinct. What felt like hours was done in minutes, the bloodied men moving bodies to the other side of the camp while Yumi found herself still unable to move. Shin barked orders at the men, pointing and directing them with what seemed to be familiarity. So, Yumi thought to herself, this isn''t the first time something like this had happened. A few of the men gave her worried glances as they cleaned up the camp the best they could at Shin''s orders, but none of them approached her. It wasn''t until Shin knelt down in front of her that the ringing in her ears started to calm down. "We should get you into the tent while the men clean up," his voice more gentle than she had been expecting. It was then she realized that she was still shaking, a tremor that hadn''t stopped since the lake. She couldn''t speak, though she wanted to, her heartbeat seemed too loud for any words to be able to be heard. Shin reached a hand out to her and she took it, trusting him despite her better judgement when he tugged the hood of his cloak farther over her eyes. Inside the tent, she felt as though she could breathe easier almost immediately. Shin studied her carefully for a moment, as though looking for any injuries she may have somehow sustained, and then took a step back. "...Do you need to throw up?" He asked. She shook her head, and then immediately ran to the entrance of the tent and let the contents of her stomach out into the dirt. One of the men appeared near immediately with a wet rag for her to wipe her face with, her nausea beginning to pass. "Well on the bright side," Shin said as he stood over her, a hint of tetchiness to his voice, "We don''t have to pretend you''re not a saintess anymore." "We also get a refund," one of the men joked, gaining a few chuckles among them. "If you lot get camp cleaned up and food made I''ll include the difference in your payment when we return," the camp immediately bustled with movement only seconds after Shin had said as much. Yumi was grateful for this, in that it took the attention off of her. When she made her way back inside the tent, she felt completely wiped out. And yet, she noted, her fever felt considerably better. One set of illness traded for another. Shin had retrieved a cloth and had begun cleaning off the blade of his weapon, despite being covered in blood himself. "If I had to guess," he said in way of starting conversation, "They probably sensed our little... event by the lake. Lower level demons are great for simple tasks such as ''kill that guy,'' or ''burn that thing,'' but their intelligence doesn''t go much farther than that. It''s likely that sensing such concentrated mana equated to a tasty meal in their little lizard brains." "Tasty meal?" Yumi''s voice was alarmed. Shin paused, considering her much like he had been every time she said something that surprised him. "Most lower level demons will eat anything with a pulse," he said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, which filled Yumi with an increasing sense of trepidation. "And you let them near you?" Her voice shook in disbelief. "To assume that any demon that''s not a Devora out there will immediately treat me as a snack seems a bit unfair. And you try to get the better of your enemy in battle without a little bit of unpredictability on your side." She realized that he was talking about the Moon Tribe and she was washed with the cold water of actuality. In the disorder of the last day she had nearly forgotten the series of events that had lead her here. The man in front of her, the men outside the tent, had all been instrumental in killing everyone she had ever known. How stupid she had been to momentarily forget that. As if he could see her walls coming back up immediately, Shin shrugged, "Nature of the beast, saintess." "It''s horrible." "Truth often is," something flashed behind his bright blue eyes, "but I''d still rather an ugly truth than a beautiful lie." As he walked out of the tent her eyes followed him cautiously, her mind flashing back to the lake as he drained her mana from her. That moment of unfiltered flow between them that he quickly and carefully pretended never happened. The undeniable and unmistakable energy signature of a saint. For all that he spoke of truth, she pondered, he had an interesting way of avoiding it.