chapter 5

Chapter 5: Restless heart, Motionless mask

The dim sun broke through the sky in shadowy waves, its rays brushing against the thick oak foliage.

A single spear rang harmoniously, it had a silver glean and its flow was beautiful. Within his dexterous hands it would spin and strike, its pole forming an intricate pattern in the air as he slowly opened his piercing eyes.

His spear would come to rest at his side, and a calm breath exhaled through his lips. He felt realigned with his body. He had completely cut out the world and focused internally, ensuring that he could fix the disparity between his actual strength and his sealed strength.

The spear vanished into a flash of color, “What are you doing?” He asked the smaller woman who had been sitting there for who knows how long.

She was sitting atop a small porch, her feet pressed firmly to the ground. She straightened up after being addressed, clearly coming back from the brink of sleep.

She stood up quickly, trying to play it off, “You are different when you swing your spear.” Mireille commented walking toward him with her arms behind her back attempting to appear dignified and elegant.

He observed her graceful steps and didn’t respond to her comment, “You didn’t answer my question.” He reminded her as she stopped near him.

She went quiet, seeming to think for a second before finally landing on what she was looking for, “Oh!” she exclaimed, remembering the entire reason she came out here, but Agis uninterested gaze snapped her out of her silly mood, “Uh… Do you want breakfast?” Her fingers idly intertwined behind her back.

Agi only stared for a while, his mind working slowly, as it always seemed to with her. It was true that he was hungry, but he didn’t enjoy sharing a meal with strangers, unless out of necessity, “Mireille, what are you trying to do?” His voice was direct and commanding, he didn’t want another half answer, she was strange, why was she so intent on making him play along?

Kicking her feet she grumbled at him, “You’re always so paranoid, why don’t you loosen up every now and then. I know you can, I’ve seen you do it. So if you really just don’t want to eat with me just say it.” She spun around huffing as she walked off toward the porch.

His eyes narrowed, another ploy? Why else would she linger here, watching him? People always had a reason—usually one they preferred keeping under wraps.

Seeming to sense his change in mood she remarked without turning back, “Not everyone is trying to kill you. Some people just want to be kind.” She walked in closing the door behind her.

“I’m not paranoid… Just cautious…” He defended himself inwardly, he was a product of a cruel world and without his caution he’d be dead. Better alone than dead… Right?

He shook it off, going back into the house, “No, what does a sheltered little girl like her know about the world. Everyone is out to kill you. And if they aren’t, they’re a part of someone else’s plan too.”

Every step in the place he now begrudgingly called “Home” felt foreign. It felt unnatural and temporary. But Agi was alright with temporary, however, he disliked the unnatural, or more specifically, the unpredictable.

Within the house he could smell fresh bread, the thick scent of freshly cooked beef and steamed vegetables. He couldn’t help but walk mindlessly toward the dining room, “If she’s going to be difficult for it later… I might as well use it to get a better grasp of her personality.” He continued to make excuses until he arrived.

Within the small dining room sat a table, it was empty aside from a cloth laid over it, inside the room Mireille was unhurriedly at work, she had plates and food piled high and to Agi it was an almost humorous sight.

Before long she set it down and “glanced” at Agi, she had a smug smile on her face, a telling sign that she had expected his arrival. It was a smile that annoyed Agi, every time he gave it another glance from the corner of his eye.

Without saying much he sat down, but was quickly met by a drag on his sleeve. He looked over and saw Mireille, “What are you doing?” He asked, what did she want this time? ” He pulled his sleeve back subtly, “She needs to do something about that habit…”

Feeling his sleeve slip through her grasp she clicked her tongue, “Heavy.” She remarked wiping fake sweat from her forehead, “Come help me set up.”

He wasn’t opposed. Getting free food wasn’t something he felt comfortable with anyway. Standing up awkwardly he glanced around the room, and for a moment he felt lost. What exactly did she need help with?

She shook her head and began guiding him, leading him around the kitchen, and handing over the heavy pot to his hand.

but Agi was lost in his thoughts idly grabbing what he was handed, his mind clouded by a memory of his master.

“Agi! You…! Get out of the kitchen! You damn brat, never again…”

He had a faint smile on his face reminiscing before he heard Mireilles irritated voice and was brought back, “Are you paying attention?” She asked while shoving the food deeper into his hand. “Take that to the table.”

He silently fulfilled the unfamiliar task, placing them awkwardly on the table.

“Good, you have potential.” She snickered, humming to herself. She would continue to do her own thing, setting the table until it was up to par before sitting down herself,

“Are you making fun of me?” She berated watching him stand there like a lost child.

He frowned, “What? I’m just doing what you said.” He felt like she was unreasonable.

She suddenly felt like laughing but held back, “just sit down, Goodness you’re a handful.”

Agi didn’t respond, not used to the etiquette of a table, he faintly recalled his youth, his time at the Blood Temple, he slightly grimaced. Before long he recovered his expression, watching her movements carefully, before copying them with uncanny precision.

She noticed all his strange expression changes, as well as his subtle attempts; and success at copying her. She didn’t call him out for it, only smiling faintly.

“Today, do you have any plans?” She asked quietly. She already knew the answer, it was more like a game to her, a game on how he’d try to avoid her today.

“…” he stayed silent, trying to figure out some sort of excuse.

Tired of waiting for his excuse she started, “So you don’t, right?” She grinned. “Then today you’ll be accompanying me.” She leaned forward, her chin on her palm.

Agi didn’t like where this was going, determined not to fall in line with her pace he proclaimed, “I won’t.”

But Mireille was undeterred, a verbal battle with her Agi may never win. “You will.” She responded with confidence.

Her confidence grated on his ears, not because it irritated him, but because he felt like she may be right, “Why should I?” He decided he at least wouldn’t make it easy for her, he felt like he was going along with her far too easily since he met her only a few days ago.

She stood abruptly, vanishing into her room for a moment before returning with a blank piece of parchment in her hand. Her movements were quick but focused, like someone working on instinct. Sitting back down at the table, she leaned over the paper, more likely a habit of when she could see than any form of useful action and began scribbling hurriedly, strange symbols blooming across its surface.

Agi’s sharp gaze narrowed as he observed her, silent but alert. His instincts were already picking apart her actions, searching for a motive.

Finally, she lifted the paper with a faint smirk, holding it up like a shield. Her eyes met his unwaveringly, glinting with determination.

“This is why,” she said simply, her voice steady but just a touch smug.

His eyes shook momentarily, “A formation…?” He wanted to interrogate her, this was not something a normal person was capable of creating, especially with such ease.

“That’s right, I don’t know a lot about you but if you’re a hunter of the Human order you should at least recognize this.” She was quite proud of herself for accurately getting his attention.

“I’ll give you one chance.” He stood up, his chair falling backwards with a thud. “Where did you learn runes? What’s your connection with the order?” His voice was low and threatening.

She didn’t expect such a strong reaction, “There’s books!” she called out quickly, she tossed her pen at him, “Always so hostile.” she crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

He visibly relaxed, “Books…”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Mireille scolded.

Inwardly he didn’t believe her, books on runes? What nonsense, that’s just a deathwish. You can’t write runes so easily. “I don’t owe you any explanations, blame yourself for carrying such dangerous knowledge.” He focused on her, “Just how massive is her vessel? It might be as big as mine…” The idea of easily writing entire formations was alien. Even to Agi.

She sat back down, happy with herself. “So, you’ll come with me today?” Mireille was slightly worried after his outburst, that he might not actually go with her.

“If there’s really books…” He lightly clenched his fist, “The Order is involved here… Can I never escape them?!” He gritted his teeth. This was what he hated the most, how many years had he been stepping on a trail forged by his own will and strength, only to reach the end and see the walls of the maze.

“Those books, If there are really books.” He ensured that he allowed her to know his suspicions thoroughly, “I’d like to see them.”

Her eyes brightened knowing she had secured him for the day, “Good, You better not run off on me again and vanish. Or next time I won’t even let you leave the house.” She pointed at him before padding off, disappearing into her room.

———————————————————————————————————————

The two unlikely companions would find themselves walking down the stone roads filling the village. Their steps almost in unison, just slightly off.

Mireille would fill the empty silence by her lonesome. Speaking with often little or no response from the mysterious hunter. However she would never get frustrated, only change the topic.

She would speak about insignificant things, like the daily lives of the villagers, or what they should have for dinner.

Was this what’s important to “Normal” people? It all felt so… utterly worthless. Was there any point to filling the silence? The noise was a problem. He could spend the time spent listening to what he considered awkward attempts at probing, into a detailed recollection of the villagers, he could gain potential information, useful information, that might help him piece together this strange place.

But Mireille never let his focus stray too far from the conversation, always pulling him back. It was in some ways, like Ari. His little brother who never stopped his critique of the tools hunters used.

Claiming they were primitive, and that even the youngest of the gnomes could create them in his sleep. Agi used to laugh sometimes, occasionally with his brothers.

Was it because they were funny? Agi left those useless thoughts behind as Mireille gleefully opened the door to the chief’s home.

Her feet pressed into the wood floor noisily, “Dad! I’m home!” She called out loudly, it seemed she wouldn’t let Agi avoid her father.

Agi could hear steps coming quickly, though they would slow as they approached; its hurried nature didn’t escape his observation.

“Mireille, did that monstrous bastard hurt you?!” He called out swinging the corner.

The chief only received Agis blank stare and Mireilles stifled chuckles, the chief wasn’t embarrassed saying, “So you still aren’t giving up on that thing?” He grunted in disapproval.

Mireille gave her father a stern look, “You shouldn’t call people things. Right Agi?”

Agi didn’t respond, he just wanted this pointless interaction to end, “The books.” He reminded her.

She let out an exaggerated breath, “You’re no fun,” she complained, “But fine, I’ll stop messing with you—for now.” Agi was satisfied with her response and followed along beside her, the two swiftly passed the chief, and as his eyes met Agis he shook subtly.

The chief clicked his tongue, averting his gaze. Agi didn’t take any pride in the chief’s fear, it was only natural.

The house wasn’t much bigger than Agis own, but it wasn’t necessarily small. It was big enough to raise three children comfortably and despite only being a single story boasted a sizable basement.

Mireille didn’t bother lighting a candle; neither of them would need it. Their steps echoed throughout the cavernous basement, each sounding more hollow than the last.

Agi found himself more at ease here than he expected. Quiet, isolated—this place suited him. The dusty air, the oppressive stillness, the way the shadows clung to the edges of the shelves, all felt familiar in a strange, unspoken way.

The walls were lined with shelves, each packed with thick books, their spines brittle and faded. Papers were scattered chaotically across the floor, glowing faintly with bluish runes that pulsed like dying embers. Agi’s sharp gaze lingered on the sight. For some reason, it just made sense.

Mireille, on the other hand, seemed embarrassed. She rubbed the back of her neck, stumbling over her words. “Ahh… I’m not this messy! It’s just… well…” She trailed off, clearly struggling for an excuse.

Agi doubted her protests. She seemed exactly like the type to leave a mess behind her. But he didn’t comment, his attention drawn instead to the intricate patterns on the scattered papers. Each one bore a different formation, some primitive and rough, others detailed and exact. The faint glow of the runes painted strange shadows across the room, giving it a mystic, otherworldly quality.

“You… made all of this?” Agi’s voice was low, but there was a rare tremor of amazement in it. His fingertips twitched slightly, as though he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of what he was seeing.

Mireille froze mid-step, her earlier embarrassment giving way to quiet surprise at his tone. “Huh? Oh, well, yeah. Is that impressive?” She gave him an awkward smile, clearly not understanding the weight of what she’d done.

Agi stared, unable to hide his disbelief. “Does she really not know?” he thought, feeling a faint shiver creep up his spine. If she were to undergo the Bleeding, if she were to receive an inheritance… He didn’t finish the thought. The idea was too monstrous to entertain.

“You don’t feel tired?” he asked, the sharpness in his tone cutting through the still air. He needed an answer.

Mireille blinked, confused, then grinned playfully. “Tired? No, not really. You’ve been more exhausting than anything.”

Agi felt his eyelid twitch, frustration mounting. “I’m serious.”

Mireille didn’t seem fazed by his stern expression. She pushed a loose paper around with her foot, pretending not to notice. “You’re always so serious,” she muttered. “Lighten up, will you?” But her grin softened as she finally answered, “No, I haven’t felt tired. Not even once.”

Agi fell silent, his mind spinning. He had seen her create an entire formation just that morning. By all rights, she should be teetering on the edge of collapse—or worse. Yet here she was, teasing him as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“How?” he muttered under his breath. The question wasn’t meant for her, but it spilled out anyway. “How is that even possible?”

He glanced at her again, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Mireille,” he said finally, “let me look at your vessel.”

Mireille tilted her head, clearly confused. “Trying to get information out of me? You’re very shameless, you know that?” She crossed her arms with a mock pout, though there was no real malice behind her words.

Agi’s patience wore thin. His expression hardened, his voice low and commanding. “I’m not joking. This is more important than you think.”

She hesitated, sensing the shift in his tone. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “Fine. But how do I even… do that?”

“Just sit down,” he instructed firmly. He stepped behind her as she lowered herself to the floor. “And whatever you do, don’t resist the strange feeling. Let it happen.” He didn’t say it aloud, but he was worried she might instinctively reject the process, which could leave him in a state even he might struggle to recover from.

Placing one palm on her back, just behind her heart, and the other on the crown of her head, Agi stilled himself. His hands rested naturally, but for a brief moment, he became aware of her heartbeat, steady beneath his fingers. Her hair was softer than he expected, and for a fleeting second, he caught himself lingering in the sensation. He pushed the thought away and focused.

The strange energy within him stirred. Normally subdued, moving in a controlled flow, it now burst forth like a breaking dam. It raced through his body, its speed too fast for the eye to follow, and clawed against the confines of his palms with ferocious intensity.

The force tore through him, a searing pain radiating across his chest and arms. It was worse than the poison’s pushback. Worse than his wounds. It felt like his blood had been set aflame.

But finally, it surged into Mireille. The energy battered against her body before sinking deep into her heart and mind, where it softened. The raging torrent became a calm pond, warm and steady.

Agi’s vision shifted. At first, it was subtle—then overwhelming. He could hear the pounding of a heart. Not just any heart. It was a slow, powerful beat, each thud echoing as if it carried the weight of the world.

The heart was crimson, vivid and alive, almost monstrous in its vitality. Every beat felt like a drum, reverberating through space itself, roaring in ferocious defiance of silence.

Agi’s eyes shook. He had seen this heart before. No, he hadn’t just seen it—he knew it. He recognized it with terrifying clarity.

It was his own.

Shock seized him, but before he could fully process the sight, his vision shifted again. The world around him warped and bled into something new, something far stranger.

“A second vessel…” he muttered inwardly. His breath caught. This wasn’t just rare—it was legendary.

Before him stood an ethereal figure, a luminous body rendered in faint bluish light. It lacked the tangibility of flesh and blood, but its presence was undeniable. Its form was Mireille’s, but ghostly and otherworldly, as if it existed on the edge of reality. Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful but distant.

Within this ethereal figure, Agi saw six distinct nodes of light, glowing faintly. Their positions, their arrangement—he recognized them immediately. They were his own.

His breath came faster, his chest rising and falling as the realization struck him like a hammer. “How…?” The question lingered unspoken in the depths of his mind, clawing for answers.

But it didn’t stop there. Once more, the world twisted and reformed around him, dragging him into a place he dreaded above all others.

A hazy fog blanketed the landscape, dense and suffocating, clinging to a forest of towering trees. The trees pierced the sky like ancient spears, their presence oppressive, their shadows endless. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the sound of his own footsteps—each one echoing heavily against dried leaves and brittle twigs.

There was no life here. No animals, no whispers of wind. Yet, in this void of sound and presence, he felt something.

It lingered just behind him, faint and elusive. At times, it would lurch forward, its pace quickening, as if running straight for him. But whenever he turned to confront it, there was nothing. Only the shadows. Only the emptiness.

Agi’s chest tightened. He knew this place far too well. He hated this place—this cursed corner of existence where he was never truly alone.

It was the third and final vessel: the internal world.

He had given it a name long ago, one that had stayed with him through years of struggle and torment. The Forest of Prey.

Agi’s eyes snapped open as he pulled himself back to reality. He stayed still for a moment, his chest heaving as he stabilized Mireille. Slowly, she began to recover, her breathing soft and steady as she shifted against him.

His own breath was ragged, his forehead slick with sweat. His body felt drained, but the exhaustion was drowned out by the chaos roaring in his mind.

“How…” The words left his lips in a hushed, disbelieving murmur. His sharp gaze lingered on her unconscious form. “How is that possible?”

His heart pounded violently, each beat crashing against his ribs like the echo of that crimson drum.

Mireille groaned as she sat back up, holding her head. “You could’ve warned me that would happen!” she snapped, shooting him a glare. She jabbed his chest with a finger. “Do you even know how scary it is, losing control of your own body?”

Agi caught her hand before she could jab him again, holding it firmly. “I know,” he said simply, his voice blunt. And he did. He was far too familiar with that sensation.

Still holding her hand, he leaned down slightly, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. “Your vessel,” he said, “is almost an exact replica of mine.”

Mireille froze. “What… what does that mean?” she asked, her voice trembling with confusion.

“It means,” Agi said, his voice low and deliberate, “you’re me. Or at least, you should be.”

She recoiled, yanking her hand away. “Stop speaking nonsense, Agi!” she snapped. “How could I be you? We’ve only just met!”

Agi’s expression darkened as he considered her words. “That’s true. We’ve never met before I arrived here. And yet…” He trailed off, his thoughts turning inward. “This is reality.”

She nibbled her lip, “You said almost exact… what’s different?”

“There’s three ways a vessel can manifest. It can manifest as the heart, the body, or a small world.”

She nodded, it was foreign and she didn’t completely understand what a vessel was or what it meant but she could tell it was important to Agi.

He continued, “When the vessel merges with the body it creates an energy called soul. Soul has many strange effects, but the important thing is that it carries life force. And life force cannot leave your body.”

“I am an anomaly, I carry all three. In other words, an absolute genius of soul.” Agi felt no pride at his proclamation.

She seemed to be following but said, “But what does that mean for me?” She asked anxiously.

He began explaining, “Your heart vessel is exactly the same as mine, only missing The Gift blood that one inherits from a gifted bloodline.”

She understood that those with The Gift would pass down a portion of their power to their children, through their gift blood.

“Your body vessel has the greatest differences, obviously it’s in your shape, and not mine, but the body vessel works slightly differently, the physical shape is less relevant and the properties are what’s important.” Agi didn’t want to go on forever so he made it concise, “Your vessel body has the same properties as my own.” He didn’t mention this but her vessel body was the same as his own, only before he had received his inheritance.

She seemed enlightened but became curious, “Then what about the world?”

“A dense forest, where nothing exists, yet something is always watching.” He didn’t go in depth on the world vessel, it was obvious he didn’t like speaking about it.

“It’s almost impossible for you to have been born like this.” His mind was desperately trying to find how this could be possible, but he just didn’t have enough information.

“For now, I can’t figure anything out… and once I leave this place it won’t matter anyway…” he decides to push it to the back of his mind, “But the problem remains, not even I should be able to create formations like you do.”

She also became lost in thought, “But with a vessel like that, why not? I mean, I’ve never felt particularly tired afterward…”

Agi didn’t hold back his frustrated sigh, “That’s the problem, Life force can’t leave the body, but when you create runes, on paper or air, it will forcefully draw soul from the body to create it. Every time a rune is made, you lose lifespan.” This time, Agi was truly at a loss.

She sat down, a little upset that she had pulled her hand back in her confusion earlier, “When would I get another chance like that?” In some ways she felt it was silly that such useless thoughts clouded her mind when they were having such an important conversation, but for her, that was outside of her world.

Mireille didn’t want to worry about something that would never become a problem, she’s curious, but it’s just that, curiosity.

Perhaps Agi would scold her for such a mindset, or perhaps he’d want it for himself.

When Mireille finally broke the heavy silence, she forced a grin. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it right now, right?” She stood, brushing herself off and grabbing a book from the shelf. “For now, I’ll just keep doing what I do, and maybe you can figure something out.” She opened the book to a bookmark, her grin sharpening. “I hope it wasn’t just your narcissism that made you claim to be a genius.”

Agi hovered behind her, his sharp eyes scanning the glowing pages. The runes within pulsed faintly, each one etched with a strange, deathly aura. He could almost smell blood on the pages. “I don’t have much knowledge about runes,” he admitted, his voice low. “Did you really learn from these books?”

“I did,” she said, proud of herself.

Mireille began walking him through the books, her tone lighthearted as she occasionally teased his lack of knowledge. Agi listened carefully, though his mind churned with disbelief. Without a teacher, it was almost impossible to learn runes. And yet, somehow, she had done it.

Finally, Mireille let out a sneeze, the sound startling in the stillness. She sniffled, her cheeks flushing. “It’s dusty, okay?”

Agi didn’t respond, his gaze still locked on the book. “You were saying?”

She shot him an annoyed look and stood abruptly, dusting herself off. “You can’t learn all of this in one day! Haven’t you heard of rest?” Grabbing his wrist, she began dragging him toward the stairs. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour of the town.”

Her hurried footsteps led him up the stairs, his slower pace following. Behind them, the dusty basement fell silent once more, its forbidden knowledge and strange glow vanishing into the shadows.

But as Agi emerged into the light, he couldn’t shake a single, haunting thought: I’ll have to return here before I leave. I have to.

Mireille hummed, pulling on his sleeve, “Hm… what should we do first?” She ponders, a finger on her chin.

Agi, who had long since mapped out the entire village just gave her a strange look, “This is pointless.” He told her.

She ignored him continuing to think aloud, “Oh! Let’s go to the bakery!” She said excitedly.

Agis brow furrowed, “can’t you make it yourself…?” He didn’t find the purpose in it.

She gave him a confused ‘look’, “You are very naive aren’t you Agi.”

He felt he had ended up in a ridiculous situation, “You’re telling me that?” He reasoned with himself saying that she must still be in shock.

The wooden door creaked as Mireille pushed it open, the bell above jingling with their arrival.

“Welco—oh…” The baker, a middle-aged man with a thick mustache, froze mid-greeting when he saw Mireille. His welcoming expression dropped, replaced by something tighter—an almost imperceptible grimace. “If it isn’t Mireille,” he said, his tone edged with something Agi couldn’t quite place. “How can I help you today?”

Mireille, entirely oblivious to the shift in the baker’s tone, gave Agi a confident look as if saying, Just watch.

Agi’s sharp eyes darted between her and the baker. The man didn’t like her—that much was obvious. He didn’t know why, but he could sense the restrained annoyance in the man’s rigid posture and the way his lips pressed into a thin line.

Mireille strolled up to the counter, cheerful as ever. The baker sighed and reached beneath the counter, pulling out a fresh loaf of bread. Mireille, however, placed a small wooden coin with silver lining on the counter, smiling expectantly.

The baker hesitated. Agi noticed his knuckles whiten as he gripped the edge of the counter. For a moment, the baker seemed like he might argue. But then, with a weary sigh, he grabbed a second loaf and slapped it down next to the first.

“Take it,” he muttered, his tone sharp enough to slice through the silence.

Seeing the second loaf her expression dulled, “Ah… You don’t have to…”

The baker grimaced, “Just thank your lucky stars and take it, brat.” there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in his words.

Mireille’s fingers trembled a bit as she reached out and took it, the baker giving a huff, “Expected as much.”

She walked back to Agi, “L-lets go, haha, wow that was so weird, huh?” She started rambling without direction, a goofy smile contorting her expression.

Agi didn’t respond immediately, his sharp gaze still fixed on the baker. The man’s jaw clenched, and his eyes flicked toward Mireille’s retreating form with something bordering on disdain. It was subtle, but unmistakable.

Walking out Agi didn’t take any particular action toward the baker, at the end of the day, It had nothing to do with him.

However he couldn’t help but faintly recall such expressions, his weary heart stirring slightly.

“Mireille, Does the baker always do that?”

She flinched, and that gave Agi everything he needed to know, “It’s not like how you think! I- I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She quickly shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, hoping to distract him, “Here, a gift.”

The bread was good, it have a good texture, and its flavor was surprisingly diverse for such a small place.

Sensing her reluctance he inwardly decided, “Maybe its better if I don’t get any more involved.”

Agi chewed reluctantly, his expression unchanging. “It’s not great.” He subtly glanced back at the baker.

Though her smile was slightly awkward she seemed to be gradually recovering, with a small laugh she said, “You aren’t a good liar, are you Agi?”

Agi’s curiosity stirred despite himself. “How has she lived like this?” The question felt invasive and foreign, but he found himself humoring it.

He glanced at Mireille, she had a subtle, bitter air to her. It was an atmosphere he couldn’t imagine on her, the cheerful girl who endlessly bothered him. It was a new side to her.

Regaining her stride she would occasionally toss more bread at Agi, and each time he indulged her she became a bit more happy.

He felt annoyed. He didn’t want to console anyone.

“Where are we going next?” he asked finally.

She didn’t stop walking. “Curious, are we?” Her grin widened, teasing.

Recognizing the glint in her eyes he prepared for more nonsense, “Yes, so tell me.”

Her grin softened slightly, taking on a more mischievous edge. “I knew you’d get curious. Or maybe…” She waved her half-eaten bread at him. “You just want more snacks.”

He could hardly understand her, what even led her to such a conclusion?

“If you ask nicely, I’ll give you the rest.” She dangled the bread in front of him as if tempting a dog.

He stared at her. “I don’t want it.”

She thought for a moment, “Such a difficult man, well if you won’t play along I guess I’ll just have to keep my knowledge to myself.”

She turned back toward him, her expression unreadable, “A hint about this place.”

His heart skipped a beat. A clue? So soon? He had expected to slowly pry information from her over time, not have it offered outright. Especially not after seeing her vessels. But there was a problem—Agi had never asked for anything.

He tried, awkwardly. “I’d like another piece of bread.”

She laughed, amused. “Oh, come now, that’s certainly not the best you can do.”

Agi’s pride bristled at her mockery. He decided the hint wasn’t worth it. She could keep her games.

Sensing his intention to ignore her, she quickly said, “Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing. As long as you compliment me then I’ll think about it.” She seemed very pleased with herself.

Agi almost opened his mouth a few times, however nothing came out, Agi had rarely complimented, and when he did it wasn’t so forced that he had to be told to compliment.

Seeing him struggle to give out a compliment she felt a little sad, was she really that hopeless?

“I can’t say I wasn’t impressed with your runes, despite how strange your origins are, I can’t help but think, you might be someone that can stand at the same level as me.”

She blinked, startled. “You… really said it.” She hadn’t expected him to actually go along with it. Her surprise melted into a small, genuine smile. “Alright, I’ll tell you one clue—‘Youngest of four.’” Satisfied with her cryptic response, she pushed the bread into his hand.

He went over what she had said inwardly, ‘Youngest of four’ How cryptic. Going off that he doubts he’ll understand anything, so mulling over it now is pointless, but it will undoubtedly be important in the future.

Meanwhile Mireille didn’t seemed too satisfied, “But seriously,” She titled her head, “You are really arrogant.”

Agi ignored her scolding while eating the bread she forced into his hands, His sharp eyes scanned the streets and the villagers around them. He didn’t fail to notice the glares. At first, he thought they were directed at him, but something about them felt… off.

“It’s not me,” he realized, his eyes narrowing. “They’re not looking at me.”

Their gazes had one target: Mireille.

“Why are they looking at her like that?” he wondered, his mind turning the question over. Mireille had proven herself naïve, even annoying, but nothing about her warranted such disdain.

Still, he recognized the looks. That sharp edge of hostility, the glances that lingered just a second too long. It gnawed at him.

Before he could press the thought further, Mireille tugged his wrist. “Come on, we’ve arrived at our next destination!”

This pattern continued for some time. Mireille led him all over the village, stopping at various shops and bustling markets. Each time, Agi saw the same thing—the same sideways glances, the same muttered words, the same invisible barrier that seemed to follow her.

It grated on him. Those eyes… those hateful eyes.

At one stop, a small clothing store, the tension reached its peak.

“This place has the best clothes,” Mireille said, pulling Agi inside. She led him between racks, touching fabrics with a casual familiarity that didn’t seem to match someone who couldn’t see.

“Hm, maybe I should dress you up real nice,” she teased, glancing him up and down with a grin.

But before Agi could respond, a voice broke the silence from behind the counter.

“P-please leave,” the shopkeeper stammered.

Agi turned, his sharp gaze landing on the aged man gripping the edge of the counter with trembling hands.

“Please,” the man repeated, his head hung low. His voice was shaky but firm. “Just go.”

Agi’s hands clenched at his sides, his gaze hardening. It was the same everywhere.

Before he could say anything, Mireille grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the door. Her voice was quiet, embarrassed. “Let’s go.”

Agi glanced at her and froze. It was the first time he had heard her voice tremble.

Her forced smile wavered as they stepped out of the shop. She let out a small laugh, trying to fill the silence. “Sorry. You must be too intimidating.”

She didn’t take his hand again, didn’t try to lead him along. She just walked silently ahead.

Agi hesitated, watching her retreating figure. His hand twitched, wanting to reach out to her but ultimately falling back to his side.

“Yeah, it’s not the first time,” he said finally. “Don’t feel bad.”

Her steps slowed slightly, and she gave a faint hum in acknowledgment.

They walked on in silence. Agi’s eyes flicked to the villagers they passed, his irritation growing with every look cast Mireille’s way.

“Humans are always the same,” he thought bitterly. “No matter where you go, no matter how peaceful, they’ll create their own problems. They’ll hate their own.”

An old conversation stirred in the back of his mind.

“I remember their looks, Agi,” Asketill had once said. His voice was low, cold. “Those eyes filled with disdain. Their hatred for my humanity—and for my monstrosity. They hated me for existing.”

Agi remembered those words, remembered the scars around his younger brother’s wrists.

“Sometimes I’d glance around, as if I’d find you standing beside me, a habit that died quickly.”

Asketill had smiled then, but it was hollow.

“What replaced it was something much more intense,” he said, his voice trembling. “The desire to kill. And kill I did. I killed and I killed and I killed, until eventually I slaughtered, and I slaughtered and I slaughtered and I killed until my entire body was dyed red.”

Asketill’s breath had steadied. He placed a hand on Agi’s shoulder. “In this world, only murderers can live. But I’m grateful—for so long, you bore the storm so we could survive the rain.”

Agi’s hand trembled at the memory. His gaze lingered on the villagers, on the backs of those who whispered just loudly enough for him to hear.

“It’s too similar,” he thought, his teeth grinding. “Why is she acting oblivious?”

An old promise echoed in his mind: “I’ll drown the world… sink or swim, eventually you’ll become tired.”

His hands clenched tighter. “Maybe I should make good on my promise…” His sharp gaze swept over the village, his thoughts darkening.

But a clear voice cut through his haze.

“Agi! Goodness, you’ve been spacing out a lot recently!” Mireille’s voice broke through his thoughts, light but slightly uncertain. “I was saying Evans is over there. He thinks he’s sneaky.” She grinned, pointing toward a shadow darting behind a cart. “Help me catch him, would you?”

Agi’s sharp eyes followed her gesture, locking onto the target. Evans.

He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of relationship the two had.

But Agi also wanted answers. The tension from earlier still lingered—those stares, those whispers. If Evans knew something about this village’s strange dynamic, he might hold the key to unraveling it.

Agi’s gaze met Evans’ for a brief moment, and his intent rang clear.

Evans’ eyes widened in terror. He turned sharply, slipping deeper into the crowd, clearly aware of Agi’s focus.

Agi was about to launch himself into pursuit when he felt a hand on his sleeve.

“What?” he asked, turning to Mireille.

“Take me with you!” she said hurriedly, gripping his sleeve tightly.

Looking forward toward Evans retreating figure Agi pulled his sleeve,

“Go home, I’ll bring him.”

Agi’s tone was slightly cold, mireille felt the distance she thought they had closed, even slightly, and smiled bitterly.

It’s always like this…

“Don’t take too long or I’ll get upset.” She exclaimed toward Agis retreating figure.

Her hands gripped the sides of her dress, Really… Everyone loved leaving her behind.

A familiar atmosphere enveloped her, amidst the crowded market she was completely alone.

How could Agi know what she’s feeling? Of course he couldn’t.

That day when he arrived here, she felt the terrifying pressure emanating off him, it felt even more feral than that of her father, but it felt truly isolated.

Like a vile emperor of the jungle baring its fangs, none dared to stand besides it, To others, that thing hiding in his shadow may have seemed like just that.

But to her, it seemed more like a wounded beast, incapable of even licking its own wounds.

Mireille was drawn in, she felt a kinship with the beast.

She didn’t expect it to be easy for Agi to let her in, rather, she didn’t know what she expected.

For some reason, some hidden part of her decided, if she never reached out, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

She sighed, For now… Lets just go home…

Even the word “Home,” felt weird against her lips, Walking back through the crowd the expressions she had hidden from Agi slowly broke free.

Her face was marred with a deep frown, her shoulders trembling slightly, the gazes felt heavy, and she felt that before long, she might break under their weight…

Despite the obvious lack of sight, Mireille was not as blind as she was believed to be.

The rain made the canopy above shudder, a single drop falling through, landing upon the palm of her hand, it was cold. So very cold.

Evans shuddered as he stared forward, How…? That strange man, Agi, was standing right in front of him, leaning leisurely, against the side of a farm house.

“Where did you intend to go?”

Agis piecing gaze seemed to look into his very depths, but Evans just glared, “Does it matter?” He huffed, He had nothing to prove to this man.

Agi pushes off the wall, his gait slow, “It matters.” He says, his form towering over the young guard.

“It matters because I say it does.”

Evans grit his teeth under the pressure, he felt like the whole world was coming down upon him as he stared at the visage behind Agi.

“Do you think you can just do whatever you want?” Evans growled defensively, He wouldn’t be intimidated.

Seeing Evans determination Agi felt slightly impressed, “Fine. I don’t really care where you intended to run off to anyway.” Agi said the visage fading like mist.

Agi took a few steps into the open field of the farmhouse, “This place… it has an undeniable attachment to those blood bastards.” He spat venomously.

Evans subtly clenched his fist at the mention of the temple.

“Within the temple there’s a saying, The heart follows the fist.”

Evans feels a subtle change in Agis demeanor.

He tenses, but before his eyes a fist the size of mountains appears slamming into his nose.

He body twirls through the air, blood pouring from his nose like a torrent.

His eyes grew dull as he stared into the sky, a fist the size of a mountain… no, rather it only felt like that.

Unavoidable. like a self fulfilling prophecy, he feels that avoiding that fist is simply not possible for him.

Agi still standing lazily looks down with disdain,

“Is that it? You come from the temple, and yet, I can’t recall ever being taught how to grovel.”

Evans heart pounded in frustration, He knows he can never beat this man, maybe he’s using him to blow off steam, but he doesn’t care.

Standing shakily he gets into a traditional stance of the blood temple.

Rushing toward Agi he attacked, again, and again.

Agi parried, he sidestepped, he struck.

Every blow sent shockwaves through his body.

He had never felt so insignificant.

“Taught how to grovel?!”

Evans attacked more wildly, “They did! I was taught to be stepped on! To grovel! To be a tool!”

“What the hell do you know about me!?”

Agi felt as Evans grew tired, his attacks became more lazy, his strikes which before were targetted, became sloppy.

But his emotions became more obvious.

“I did what I had to… I won’t be judged by some monstrous bastard like you!”

He shouts but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot climb the insurmountable mountain that is Agi.

Exhausted he throws another punch, slipping he falls to his face, the mud covering him in an unsightly manner.

He stares up at the canopy, his heart pounding, “It was my fault…” He feels as though he swallowed a rock,

“Where was I going? I just want out, you inhuman beast, I’m tired of living like this…”

Agi had a strange expression as he looked down at the boy who had begun to weep in the mud.

Evans grasped at his heart, “Agi… Please, train me… Make it so I can live like you!” he groveled in front of Agi, his head planted heavily into the mud.

“I want to be strong! I want to stop running… So please…”

Evans pleaded with his head in the mud, his eyes muddled with clear tears.

Agi recognized such a scene, all those years ago, there was a time when Agi had groveled pathetically as well.

He remembered the words the strange beast man had passed onto him,

“If you want to learn from me, then you can never grovel again.”

Evans raised his head, looking up at the man he had been so furious at just moments ago, he bowed his head again, “I won’t! I won’t grovel… never again…”

Agi nodded approvingly without saying much, “Don’t strive to be like me. Strive to be better.”

Evans stumbled after him, the mud dripping from his clothes, “Yes! Master!”

Mireille grumbled noisily at Agi in the small house, “Why can’t I talk to him?” She muttered in irritation.

Mireille was shocked to see evans walk in, he was covered in bruises and mud was dripping head to toe, so she quickly sent him to wash up.

But now, while Evans is gone, Agi is saying she can’t speak with him yet.

“It’s not time.”

She felt powerless, first He had sent her home to wait, and now hes saying she can’t even speak with him?

“Thats not your decision to make.”

Agi felt the tension since he made her go home, but she’s abnormally upset.

“Mireille, what’s your relationship with him?”

She frowned, “He’s my younger brother.”

Agi nodded, he had expected that was the case, given how similar they looked it only made sense.

“Just why would he avoid you like that then?”

Mireille let out a frusturated sigh, “I don’t know! Thats what I’m trying to figure out, so Agi, you better give me a really good reason why I shouldn’t talk to him.”

“Right now… He likely wouldn’t tell you anything.”

Mireille frowned further, “Thats why I should reach out now.”

Agi shook his head, “He’ll close himself off. I’ll try to draw what I can, and make him relax a bit. He’s my disciple, so It is only a matter of time.”

Mireille’s eyebrows shoot up as she opens and closes her mouth multple times, “Disciple?”

Agi… had taken on a disciple?

He ignored her reaction, “For now, just try not to push.”

She settled down , “This isn’t your first time doing this, is it?”

“It is an effective method.”

She presses a hand to her forehead, “Fine!” She points in his direction, “But you owe me one.”

“I’ll listen to a request.”

Knowing she wouldn’t get any more from him she finds her way into the kitchen making herself busy.

“Do you need any help?” He wanders over.

She shakes her head, “Your disciple is finally done cleaning up.”

Agi can tell she doesn’t want to speak to him right now so he nods and finds Evans sitting on the small porch at the back of their house.

“Come, lets have our first lesson.”

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