Chapter 2 -

  Intertwined by a Shared Fate…

  I saw a boy, around my age, sitting alone on a bench, his breathing heavy and uneven, as if he were about to pass out. Concerned, I made my way over to him.

  "Hey… are you alright?" I asked, more for his sake than my own, hoping he was in good health. I couldn’t bear to see an injured person go without treatment, taking care of them caressed my heart and kept me somewhat calm to the situation.

  I wasn’t here out of just kindness however, I had only taken up this swordplay training to protect myself rather than relying on useless mercenaries. As a healer residing in Kohesia, my work was providing aid to those who needed it, nothing more. "Get the hell away from me… I don’t… need your damn pity, beastman."

  My soft cat ears twitched, my face scrunching slightly at his hostility. His words were uncalled, unprecedented, for I had only shown him the most basic form of respect.

  "I-I’m a healer, w-working for the guild," I stammered, feeling the weight of his scorn press against my chest. I was still inexperienced in both swordplay and my own pride as a beastwoman. I doubt even my own ability to take on a rookie like him in a one on one bout in swordplay. His glare made me waver, the sharp edge of his disdain enough to make me shudder.

  "Your position… doesn’t matter…" he muttered between labored breaths, struggling to form a full sentence through the obvious and prevalent lack of air.

  "Look, let me just heal you… and I’ll be on my way. Free of charge." He waved me off and turned his gaze back to the sky.

  What a fascinating day it was to admire the sky. The wind blew gently, carrying a crisp, cool air that toyed around with my silver hair, making it sway with each passing breeze. It reminded me of home—of that hilltop where the best flowers bloomed, where their fragrances wove together in a melody of scents so delightful I could almost smell them now.

  But those days were long behind me. My home no longer exists. My people were nearly wiped out by these damn humans. But I acquiesced—most of them paid well, and that was the only reason I became a healer in the first place.

  Still stingy from his unwarranted hostility, I left the boy and sat on a bench a few feet away. I had no intention of offering him help again, but I did want to watch his next match. Maybe I could learn something from the way he fought—perhaps for my own benefit, or maybe just to see how long he would last in his pitiful condition.

  Roughly thirty minutes passed, with several fights taking place in the meantime. By the time his match was up, seven or so battles had already come and gone.

  He stood up, wobbling slightly, but managed to make his way to the arena, his gaze still locked onto the sky. A small yet muscular dwarf emerged from the shade, gripping a wooden battleaxe in both hands. His long locks dangled from a thick, brown beard, and his dark green eyes, analogous to the color of my own. He struggled to climb onto the raised platform, a sight that nearly made me burst into laughter. But as a refined and elegant lady, I restrained myself. As the instructor began reading the rules aloud, the boy finally looked down, meeting the direct gaze of his opponent. Something had changed. He was no longer trembling, nor was his breath coming in ragged gasps. It was as if something inside him had awoken. He was calm, composed—watching, analyzing. Every movement, no matter how small, did not escape his notice. Even the tiniest flinch from someone, anyone in the crowd would have been caught by his piercing gaze.

  The instructor raised his hand and brought it down in a swift motion, signaling the start of the fight.

  The dwarf wasted no time, charging forward, his battleaxe swinging toward the boy. Yet, his attack met nothing but futility. The boy parried effortlessly, as though his wooden sword were forged from something far greater than simple wood. Each swing rang through the air with an almost melodic resonance, as if it belonged to a master swordsman rather than a mere trainee.

  The arena fell silent. We all watched in disbelief.

  How could someone so young—so fragile just moments ago—display such precise, almost mechanical skill? My lack of knowledge in swordplay made me wonder if it was simply the result of intense training, but the expressions around me had suggested otherwise. The boy slowly walked towards the dwarf; now scared for his life, and he raised his sword. Wind could be heard, but louder than that were the screams of men and women who witnessed the event. His sword, cut almost perfectly, straight through the dwarfs neck. The dwarfs head went rolling to a nearby wall. Blood splattered everywhere, yet the boy stood there with almost no emotions, other than the slightly visual disgust on his face, whilst wiping off the blood.

  I thought about healing the dwarf for even just a moment, but ultimately decided against it because I would have only wasted my time. It's not like I can bring back the dead after all. Instead I’d rather check the boy, make sure his mind is still right. The instructor once again took out the little journal he kept by his side, and wrote something in it, later signaling the end of the fight, though his face was one of cautiousness. “Somebody come clean up this mess… and to the rest of our participants, well done on passing your mock battles. We will speak to each of you one on one in a couple of days.” As the crowd began to disperse, murmurs of shock and awe rippled throughout the spectators nearby. Some whispered silent praises, mainly the humans, and others muttered curses under their breath, unsettled by the sheer precision and ruthlessness of the boy’s attack. I, too, found myself rooted to the bench, my heart not pounding from fear, but from a strong feeling of curiosity. Just moments ago, this boy could barely breathe. Now, he wielded his sword as though it were an extension of his own body. They say curiosity killed the cat, but lucky for me, satisfaction can and will bring me back. I stood, brushing the dust off my intricate robes, and made my way towards him. His expression hadn’t changed; still calm, a piercing coldness to it. As he stepped down from the arena, I caught a glimpse of his hands. They were all scratched and bruised, bloody and broken. “You…” I started, but hesitated. He barely acknowledged me, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if he saw something none of us could. “You really need to be healed, your injuries are abnormal. That fight was far from something…” I stopped before finishing, finding it hard to come up with the right words. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with the same indifference he showed earlier, he finally spoke. “I’m fine.”

  I sighed. “You weren’t fine just before the fight, you could barely even stand let alone breathe.

  At this, he paused, his expression faltering just slightly. His fingers curled into his palm, as he let out a deep sigh. “It’s… nothing. Just the way my body works. I crossed my arms, studying him.

  “What you just did isn’t normal.” Not for someone your age, nor a seasoned knight. “Who trained you?” His gaze flickered to the briefest of moments before he turned away. “No one.”

  Liar.

  Before I could press him any further, the instructor approached, still scribbling notes in his journal. “You,” he called out, stopping just a few feet away from us. His voice was steady, but I could sense a hint of unease. “Name?” The boy exhaled through his nose. “Kaito…” Kaito huh… what an intricate name. The instructor nodded, jotting it down. “Kaito, you’re… something else, I'll give you that. But do tell, why did you kill the dwarf?

  Silence. Kaito’s grip tightened around his wooden sword- no, not wood, instead something else entirely. “He was an opponent,” Kaito finally replied. “What else was I meant to do?” The instructor frowned. “This was a mock battle. A test of skill, not some battle to the death.”

  “Then why give us real weapons?”

  The instructor had no answer. Or, perhaps, he had one but didn’t like it. He snapped his journal shut. “Get some rest. You’re dismissed.”

  Neither of them said anything else. Kaito simply turned, and walked away, his movements fluid. I watched him go, my mind a storm of unusual thoughts. Something about him was unnatural. The way he moved, the way he fought… even the way he had almost collapsed before the fight and yet he suddenly recovered.

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself. One thing was certain to me however, this boy isn’t just some ordinary kid. Instead, I want to know his secrets, maybe even his situation is similar to mine.

  I left the complex, trying to rationalize my current thoughts, later heading back to my inn, the most popular in town; The Golden Lion. I settled back down into my room, setting my bags on the empty desk near the window, and changed into less formal attire. I grabbed a nice blue, long sleeve shirt with a frill on the arms and neck area, a pair of loose, baggy, white jeans, and some small wooden clogs that were just barely bigger than my feet. Leaving my room, and into the hallway, I felt famished. Thankfully, they serve free food with rooms at this inn, so I dropped by the mess hall to grab a small bite. Afterwards, I headed back up to my room, but as soon as I went to open the door, a loud scream could be heard in the room over on the right. I immediately ran to the room, fumbled around with the door knob a bit, and finally got the damn thing to open, bursting into the room. It was the boy from earlier, Kaito… his name was, he was on the floor, grappling his hands away from his eyes, it was almost as if he wanted to tear them out. I quickly shut the door and locked it behind me, pulling out a wand I always carry at my side, and chanting a healing spell. “Blessed hand of God. Breath of the wind, I pray to thee, deliver upon us your undying compassion, and grant him recovery.”

  My voice wavered slightly as I channeled the spell, golden light emanating from the tip of my wand and enveloping Kaito’s writhing form. His breathing was erratic, his fingers trembling violently as though fighting an unseen force. Slowly, the light settled over him, sinking into his skin. He let out a choked gasp, and his body slackened, though his hands still gripped at the air near his eyes. I hesitated before stepping closer, cautiously kneeling beside him.

  "Kaito…?" I called softly.

  His chest rose and fell sharply, his breath still ragged, but he no longer fought against himself. I reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He flinched, but did not pull away. Instead, his fingers uncurled slightly, revealing the faintest traces of dark veins streaking across the backs of his hands. I furrowed my brows, taking a closer look. Something was wrong, this wasn’t an ordinary affliction. "I told you… I don't need your help," he muttered, his voice hoarse. I ignored his protest. "You're in pain. I may not know what this is, but I know suffering when I see it. If you don’t let someone help you, this will only get worse." He let out a bitter chuckle, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. "You don’t understand. It’s not something you can heal. It’s… something else."

  I frowned, watching as his breathing finally steadied. He sat up slowly, wincing, but the wild look in his eyes had faded somewhat. His gaze met mine, and for the first time, I could see something beneath the cold exterior he projected something weary, something fractured.

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  "Tell me what’s happening to you," I urged. Kaito exhaled through his nose, looking away. "It doesn’t matter."

  "It does. This isn’t normal. Your strength, your sudden recovery, and now this? If you keep pushing everyone away, you’re going to—"

  "Enough!" His voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and commanding. I fell silent, watching as his fingers curled into his palm again. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking again, this time quieter. "Just… stop asking." A silence stretched between us, tense yet unspoken. I could tell he wouldn’t give me any answers tonight, but that only fueled my determination further. There was more to him than he let on, more than what I had seen in the arena, and I was going to find out what it was.

  I stood, dusting off my shirt. "Fine. But at least let me look at your hands."

  Kaito hesitated before reluctantly extending them toward me. I took them gently, tracing the strange dark veins that had begun to fade. My healing spell had done something, but not enough. It was like trying to stitch up a wound that refused to close. I sighed, releasing his hands. "Whatever this is… it's not going away on its own. You might not trust me yet, but when you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen." He studied me for a long moment before finally nodding, barely perceptible. It wasn’t much, but it was something. I turned toward the door, unlocking it and pausing just before stepping out. "Get some rest, Kaito. Tomorrow, you’ll travel with me around the town, for your own safety."

  Without waiting for a response, I left, shutting the door behind me. My mind swirled with mixed feelings and unanswered questions as I returned to my own room. His secrets aren’t safe from me anymore; when I get to know someone, it's not just a half-assed attempt. He will end up talking to me no matter the lengths I have to go to get that answer.

  That night, sleep eluded me. My mind replayed the events of the day—the eerie stillness in Kaito’s eyes before the fight, the unnatural grace in his swordplay, and now, the dark veins that had crept across his hands. Whatever afflicted him wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a mere sickness, nor an ailment that a simple healer like myself could mend. I sat by the window, gazing out at the moonlit streets of Kohesia. The city was alive even at this hour; merchants closing up shop, late-night wanderers and stupid drunks stumbling through the alleys, and of course the occasional armored patrol ensuring order. Yet, all I could think about was Kaito.

  Tomorrow, I will take him around the city. Not just for his safety, but to see if I could uncover anything about his condition. There were scholars, healers, and alchemists within Kohesia, some of whom owed me favors. If anyone could provide insight into whatever plagued him, it would be them. Just as I was about to settle into bed, a knock echoed from my door. I hesitated before moving, my heart quickening. Was it Kaito? He didn’t strike me as the type to seek help, let alone in the middle of the night. I grabbed my wand from the nightstand, just in case, and approached the door. When I opened it, I found no one. Only the empty, dimly lit hallway.

  A chill ran down my spine. My ears twitched, scanning for any lingering sounds. Then, I noticed something—a slip of parchment at my feet. Cautiously, I picked it up, my fingers trembling as I unfolded it.

  There were few words written on the paper, but they were enough to make me shiver. “Your end, and his are near.” His as in Kaito? What does this mean? Who wants to kill me? Hundreds of questions flooded my mind, I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the paper. The ink was still fresh, smudging slightly under my fingertips. Why do they want us? I barely even know this boy, and we have no connection whatsoever. Whoever left this message, they were warning me. Or worse, threatening me. Either way, I wasn’t about to back down. I shut the door and locked it, pressing my back against the wood. I fell to a sitting position, wand still in hand, slowly but surely drifting off into sleep. Yet as day arose, my heart pounded within my chest as I recalled the events of last night. I slowly rose, looking out the small window in my room; the tree nearby made the room bower, though itself hangs aquiline yet somehow it was still parallel to the inn building. The room felt cold, so I grabbed the lantern off the nightstand sat next to my bed, and lit it using a simple spell for fire, “Naur heed nin elgeri- a peni- nin enemies ablaze.” It gently lit the small room, warming it if even just a little, making me feel ardor and pleasantly adequate. I changed out of the mess of clothing I wore last night, into something more elegant and bewitching to the unfamiliar masses. Slowly, I treaded my feet towards the door, snuffing out the fire on the way and placing it on the small table near the door to my room. Reaching for the door knob, I stopped, taking a deep breath before finally opening the door and exiting my abode. I looked over to the door of Kaito’s room which lay at the far end of the hallway and looked back across to where the stairway was, checking to see any signs of life this early in the morning. Nothing. I continued down the stairs, into the main tavern where there were a few bodies, shuffling around amongst the tables, serving early breakfast and ale. I sat down at an empty table, and after ordering a small bite, grabbed a small book I always carried with me, and started to jot down the events from last night. I felt a small poem was enough to express my meaning and it was something to wake me up.

  500 CE Age 19

  Maybe a blessing, though it had felt as a curse.

  A boy whose mysterious powers interrupted my day

  and my curiosity got me carried away.

  Its violence a crime, yet its absurdity warped my perception of time.

  A mysterious power, inflicted pain too dour.

  Small and discrete, though the ink had lain completely neat.

  It brought me to pieces, however slumber had awakened my blisses.

  And all it had brought me was the intricacies of today.

  It may have been short, but I feel it conveys my point in full decency. I grabbed the notebook, closing it and reattaching the small pen it came with to the side of the book. Standing up to leave the inn, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Kaito coming down the stairs, slow, groggy, but no longer seeming to be in pain. I quickly ran up to him, patting his arms down to see if there were any traces of the weird dark veins, yet nothing was there, instead it was just his smooth, pale skin.

  “Let’s get you something to eat; you’re probably famished and exhausted from yesterday,” I said, a facade of a smile covering my face. I didn’t want anyone other than myself to know about what happened. After all, that note made me more cautious, and you can’t just put your trust in anyone around this dingy capitol. He quickly nodded, rubbing his eyes and wobbling his way to the table I had just left. I ordered a meal for him, and about the second it reached the table, he had almost devoured all of it. I sat there, watching him in shock, my mouth agape once again from the crime I just witnessed. After two hours of talking, eating, and slightly exorbitant laughter, we finally left the inn to get a breath of “fresh” air. The sky was somewhat more moody today, leaving cold blues and rich purples over the scenery.

  The grass, calm with the wind, and the leaves upon trees sway ever so little. I was enchanted for once by this dull town, the environment somewhat reminding me of my hometown, the smell, the gentle wind, it was all present.

  “Say… have you ever experienced a view like this before Kaito?” There was a long pause between my subtle words, the last phrase lingering on my lips, and even so, only the wind could be heard for an extended period.

  “No… I have only ever seen the sway of clement aconite and scilla’s, their smell blossoming in an open field of air, their emotions an… intricacy.”

  He looked up to the sky, tears falling from his magnificent eyes. “It's very pulchritudinous.”

  His words float through the air, as I too look up at the sky, my face a bright red with a plethora of emotions. His tongue was crisp and emboldening, every word reaching me like a delicate dance almost like a flower's petals in the wind, one bold swaying motion after another. I stood there for a good bit, probably longer than I should, though eventually snapping out of it, remembering our earlier plans. “We should get going… there are a few places I wanted to show you.” Kaito wiped his face plastered with deluge and later drought. We walked for a good while, touring the town, greeting some of the townsfolk with half-hearted smiles, until we landed upon a weaponsmith’s shop.

  Warriors Delight–A small shop off the corner of the cobble roads, its features dull at best, but the shop had looked as if it were well taken care of. Walking up its steps to the open doors, we entered the building, and what lay before us was an immense echelon of swords and axes, all sorts of weapons clad in rare metal and shining gems. Inside Warrior’s Delight, the scent of smelted iron and polished wood filled the air. The weaponsmith, a burly man with a thick beard and sharp eyes, looked up from behind the counter.

  “Ah, welcome,” he greeted, wiping soot from his hands. “Looking for anything in particular?”

  Kaito stepped forward, his fingers grazing the hilt of a slender blade clad in a brilliant silver and gold plating, resting on the display. He examined it carefully, his touch almost reverent. I watched him, noting how natural he looked in a place like this—how his sharp eyes softened in the presence of steel, as if blades were more familiar to him than people.

  “You know your way around a sword,” I murmured, stepping closer.

  Kaito glanced at me but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifted the blade from the display, testing its weight. The way his wrist flexed, the effortless way he balanced the steel—it was almost mesmerizing. The man running the store, though smart, not the greatest with money, lets us buy it off him for about twenty gold pieces, not even a fifth of my paycheck.

  “I was taught young,” he finally said. “In another life, maybe I was meant for nothing but war.” His voice was quiet, almost wistful. My chest tightened and burned at the way he said it—like he had already resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him.

  “Well,” I said, trying to lighten the air between us, “good thing you have me to pull you out of that ‘another life.’”

  To my surprise, the corner of his lips twitched, just the barest hint of a smile. It was so faint I almost thought I imagined it. I turned away before my thoughts could run rampant, pretending to examine a pair of daggers mounted on the wall. But I was still hyper aware of him—of the steady rhythm of his breath, the slight heat radiating from where he stood beside me. And then, just as I was about to suggest we leave, Kaito spoke again.

  “You said there were other places you wanted to show me.”

  His tone was different this time; softer, like he was letting down a wall. I looked up at him, searching his expression, but he had already turned back toward the counter, sliding the sword he had been holding back into its sheath, and attaching it to his hip.

  “Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “There’s one more place.”

  The walk to our next stop was quieter, but not uncomfortable. The town was waking up now, merchants calling out their wares, children weaving through the streets, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Kaito walked beside me, his usual guarded posture slightly more relaxed. Maybe it was the early morning air, or maybe he was just exhausted from keeping up his defenses, but for the first time since we met, he didn’t seem so… untouchable.

  We reached the outskirts of the town, where the stone streets faded into a dirt path leading up a small hill. At the top, a lone tree stood, its branches stretching wide, offering shade against the soft glow of the rising sun.

  “This,” I said, exhaling slowly, “is my favorite place.”

  Kaito didn’t say anything at first. He stepped forward, his fingers brushing against the rough bark of the tree. Then, after a moment, he sat down beneath it, legs stretched out, hands resting on his knees. I hesitated before joining him, the grass cool beneath my palms.

  “It’s quiet here,” he finally said.

  I nodded. “That’s why I like it.”

  A breeze rolled through, rustling the leaves above us. The sun cast a golden hue over the horizon, painting everything in warm light. I turned my head slightly, watching the way it caught Kaito's vibrant hair, how it softened the sharp angles of his face. “I don’t know why,” I found myself saying, “but I feel like I’ve known you longer than just the few days I’ve spent with you.”

  He glanced at me, his gaze unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he spoke.

  “Maybe,” he said quietly, “you have.”

  Something about the way he said it sent a shiver through me—not from fear, but from something else entirely. I wanted to ask what he meant, but before I could, Kaito leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. The conversation was over… for now. So I let the silence settle between us, content, for once, just to sit beside him.