Almie woke in a sour mood. Angry rays of the early morning sun poured through her open window and struck her straight in the face. She turned her head away, but the sheets wouldn't cooperate—they had tangled themselves in her lush red hair. The fabric smelled of spilled wine and stale sweat. Frowning, she untangled the strands from the clutches of the bedcovers.
The room was already bright; the sun was doing its job too well. She stretched, and her bones cracked satisfyingly, easing some of the tension in her body. Still scratching her back, she swung her legs out of bed. Her reflection caught her eye in the bathroom mirror, the door standing open. She stared at herself. What a mess. Especially with strands of hair stuck in her mouth.
For some strange reason, she sucked on them. They tasted oddly good.
Her bare foot touched something cold and wet on the wooden floor. She looked down. A shattered wine bottle lay there, the red liquid rapidly soaking into the grain. She sighed, grabbed a rag, and started cleaning it up. A sharp curse escaped her as a jagged piece of glass dug into her arm.
She took a hurried bath, tied back her hair, and slipped into her red jacket and boots. Her dark skirt fell just above mid-thigh. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
"Better," she muttered.
She picked up her sword. For some strange reason it felt heavier than usual, and her hands trembled as she strapped the thin blade—almost needle-like—to her hip. The hilt, shaped like twisting thorns, pressed coldly against her palm. She reached for the door.
The sharp echo of her boots striking the wooden floor rang through the silent inn. She was the first one awake. She descended the stairs and glanced at the empty counter; the caretaker still hadn't arrived. For some strange reason, a quiet certainty settled over her: she wouldn't be coming back here.
Without looking back, she stepped out into the empty streets. Drunks and homeless figures lay sprawled in doorways and alleys. She walked past them, her focus locked on the path ahead. She didn't have much time, and she knew it. She had to reach Rose Manor before the mission began.
Sarah woke in a daze. She turned her head toward the open window, where the morning sky glowed pale and early. The sun already felt angry, its rays harsh even at this hour. She climbed out of bed. Her extraordinarily large nightgown hung loosely around her small frame.
She stared at herself in the mirror and opened her mouth. Her teeth were still as sharp as ever. With a sigh, she grabbed her towel and headed toward the bath. There were a lot of things she had to do today.
After her bath, Sarah tied her blue hair into a neat ponytail. She ran her hands along her face, then pouted, smiled, frowned, and grinned experimentally at her reflection.
"My face isn't broken," she said with a small smile.
She slipped into her lab coat. At thirteen she was definitely getting taller. She pulled on her boots and left the room.
Downstairs, she sat at the dining table with her legs dangling, flipping through a magazine. A maid brought her a cup of tea and some biscuits. Sarah accepted them gratefully and began munching away.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a tall girl in leather armor stepping into the manor. The girl's black hair gleamed as she stared around in wide-eyed amazement at the grand rooms and soaring halls. Her grey eyes soon found Sarah. She waved and approached.
"Hey, Sarah," Nina said with a bright smile.
Sarah nodded, swallowing hard on the biscuit she was munching. She quickly washed it down with a sip of tea. She was painfully aware that Nina was the only reason she was still alive right now, but she didn't know how to act around her. She had barely ever spoken to the knight.
"Oh, I know about this!" Nina said cheerfully, leaning in to look at the magazine Sarah was reading. "Apparently the Sch— I've forgotten the name—but they made an horseless cart or something. It's a pretty big deal. It'll reduce horse usage around the capital."
A moment of awkward silence followed. Nina shifted uncomfortably and fiddled with the strap of her belt. For some reason, she always felt stupid around Sarah.
"You're right," Sarah finally spoke up. "To be honest, it's a good invention, but I think it'll have problems down the road. They should test it more." She sighed, closed the magazine, and hopped off her chair.
"Andrew is still in bed, in case you're wondering," she added as she walked past Nina toward the door. She paused just outside the doorway. "Thanks for saving me," she muttered.
"Safe point!"
Sarah vanished instantly.
Nina smiled softly. "She's a shy one."
Nina climbed the stairs quickly, humming a cheerful tune as she crossed the long hallways toward Andrew's room. It had been a while since she'd last seen him. She had finally settled the issues with her family.
She stopped abruptly. Further down the corridor, Bella emerged from her room, looking tidied up and composed. She was clutching a small fire spirit in her arms — Iggy — whose tiny body flickered with living flames. Bella's black gown suited her ash-pale skin perfectly.
Bella liked Nina but always thought she was too cool for her.
"Hello," Bella spoke first. Iggy scowled in her arms but stayed silent, her flames crackling softly.
"Hey there, Bell," Nina waved as Bella approached. "How are you doing? I see you've got a fire spirit with you—and an adorable one at that." She smiled, reaching out to pat Iggy's head.
"Iggy is not adorable. She's terrifying," the little spirit snapped, her flames flaring brighter just as Nina's hand drew near. Nina didn't pull away because of the sharp words, but because of the intense heat radiating from Iggy's flickering form.
"She's got real fire, that's for sure," Nina said, blowing on her singed fingers with a grin. "I guess you're the only one who can actually handle her."
Bella lifted Iggy slightly, letting the small spirit slump like wet noodles in her arms as she showcased her. "She can be cool when she wants to be. We shared a bed without her burning down my room. I think she can control it… but chooses not to."
"I don't think Andrew is up yet," Bella said as she walked by. "He's been running around the capital lately. Sucks to be the next head of the house." She laughed. "Tell him I said I hope he gets buried in a mountain of paperwork!" Bella's loud laughter echoed as she disappeared down the hallway.
"What a sister," Nina murmured with a smile.
She knocked on Andrew's door. No response. She knocked again. Still nothing. Nina sat outside the door for a few minutes, idly playing with her sheathed blade. She did a cartwheel, stared out the window… still nothing. After a while, Mark greeted her in passing and continued on his way. For some reason, Nina felt an intense chill settle over her even after he was long gone, as if something invisible was hovering nearby. She shook off the feeling and knocked once more.
Growing impatient, she finally opened the door. The room was dark and quiet, the curtains drawn tight. She slipped inside as quietly as she could.
"Master?" she called softly.
Andrew stirred under the sheets and pulled them higher, but he didn't wake. Nina approached cautiously. The room felt unusually warm. She could hear his ragged breathing beneath the blankets.
She stared at him for a moment. His face was bright red as he struggled against the intense heat overwhelming his body.
A fever, she noted.
Her fingers ran over his burning forehead.
"That's high," she muttered.
"Is this the accumulated result of using your skill and all the work you've been doing lately?" Nina asked, not really expecting an answer. She parted the curtains, and sunlight attacked the room, brightening it immensely. Andrew's room was a mess—heaps of scattered papers, discarded clothes, and something that looked suspiciously like dried vomit.
Nina tidied up quickly, shoving most of the clutter under the bed with the help of a maid. Soon after, a hot bowl of soup arrived on a tray. The maid bowed and left it behind. Nina thanked her as she exited.
When she turned around, Andrew's tired gaze was already fixed on her.
"I thought I told you—" Andrew began, but Nina cut him off.
"Yeah, yeah, I've got my shit together," she sighed. "You know you have a family, right? You have maids. Couldn't you tell anyone you were sick? If I hadn't arrived today, who knows what would've happened…" She sighed again. "Knowing you, you've probably been sick for days but still pushed through your work."
"Sorry," he muttered.
"No, I'm the fool." Nina stared at the bedpost, her body trembling. "You've told me multiple times, but I forgot your skill always has consequences. I should have noticed you weren't taking any breaks after our fight with Almie. I should have stayed by your side. I shouldn't have left."
Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off again.
"No need. I'm here now." She wiped her eyes and smiled. "Sit up. I'll feed you your meal. I won't take any days off until you get better."
Andrew drank the soup slowly while Nina carefully held the bowl, making sure none of the hot liquid spilled onto the sheets.
"Thank you," he said after a long silence.
Nina set the empty bowl aside. "What for? I'm getting paid, aren't I?" She smiled. "It's my job."
A job. Yeah… that's right. That's how it is. The undeniable truth — a master and his knight.
But why did those words sting so much?
Andrew's hazy eyes traced over her: the black hair framing her face, those grey eyes staring back at him with quiet warmth, her fair skin, the small scar just below her brow, and the slender neck hidden beneath her armor.
"Master?" Nina asked nervously. "Do I have something on my face? You're staring."
"Oh—sorry." Andrew flushed and quickly looked down at the sheets. For a brief second the world felt strangely clear around him, as if the fever had retreated. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. "I think I need a walk," he said finally.
Sarah sat on the flower patch just outside her lab, staring at the beautiful morning sky. The sun's rays still felt angry, but they were more bright than hot. She tossed another sweet into her mouth, savoring the blissful flavor with a small smile.
She had come to the lab to finish some work, but so far nothing new had come to her. After her kidnapping, she had made and fixed many things. She still felt a quiet sadness about not being able to bring the Golden Ball back to full life, though she had managed to reassemble it. It activated occasionally now, but it wasn't as functional as it used to be.
With a sigh, she let the morning air blow through her blue hair. For some reason, she felt strangely happy today. She didn't feel like working at all.
"You seem at peace," came a calm, melodious voice from behind her.
Sarah didn't turn around. She couldn't afford to — for all she knew, the person could be hostile.
"Who are you?" she asked slowly. "Came to finish the job?"
"I came to talk," the woman replied. Suddenly she stood directly in front of Sarah.
Sarah stared up at her in awe. She knew she had been kidnapped and had seen the goons who almost killed her, but the woman Nina had fought remained a mystery. She was unconscious at the time.For some strange reason, Andrew and Nina couldn't quite describe her features accurately, so they had never managed a good sketch. They had only agreed on one thing: she had a lush of bright red hair.
Almie's red eyes locked onto Sarah's blue ones. Her red hair whipped against the wind as she stood tall above the girl. Sarah noted the slender sword at her waist, her neat-looking thighs, the red jacket and boots, and her tired-looking eyes. Though it didn't show in her face or posture, Sarah somehow sensed that the woman was distressed.
"How did you get here?" Sarah blurted out without thinking.
"Well, to be frank, I can use portals, but they're limited," Almie sighed.
"Are you here to kill me?" Sarah asked.
The woman went silent for a moment, as if pondering her answer.
"No," she said finally. "Initially that was my goal, but seeing you like this… I don't think I have enough resolve to do it."
"What do you want to talk about?" Sarah continued calmly. "I find it hard to believe that someone who beat Nina to a pulp and can dress so fashionably would need help with strength or money."
"It's not that, it's—" Almie began, but she suddenly jumped nearly twelve feet into the air as a large beam of flame shot across the grounds. The blast shattered the golden-plated gates and set part of the flower patch on fire.
Almie landed softly and stared at her attacker. Bella was walking slowly toward her, eyes glowing amber, steam emanating from every fiber of her being. Iggy floated nearby, also staring at Almie with hostile intensity.
"You're not taking her this time!" Bella yelled. Large balls of flame charged up around her hands.
"No, I'm not here to fight," Almie said defensively. "I—I'm here to—"
"Just shut the hell up!" Bella barked. The flaming orbs shot toward Almie. She avoided them with difficulty — they seemed to track her movements. Sarah backed away from the immense heat.
"Bella, I don't think—" Sarah yelled, but the mad look in Bella's eyes stopped her from finishing.
"Don't worry, lil sis. I'll have her corpse in no time," Bella grinned.
Almie leapt off one of the balls, slid down barely avoiding another. One struck her above the temple. It exploded on impact, sending her crashing through trees and flowers. She stood up slowly, covered in dirt and ash.
"I'm not here to play," she said, her voice low and dangerous.
"Go blind," Andrew's voice rang out.