The departure of the Lythorian delegation left a heavy silence in its wake, but it was a silence quickly filled by the intimate gravity of two souls who had finally found their center. Inside the same white gazebo that had witnessed the meeting of Kaelen and the others, the atmosphere had shifted from political tension to a thick, honeyed domesticity.
Noa sat anchored to one of the white chairs, his arm draped like a protective mantle across Vionette's back. She sat perched on his lap, her legs swept sideways in a graceful cascade, one arm hooked loosely around his neck. Between them sat the second Emberleaf Honey Cake—a peace offering from Selene after the first had been sacrificed to the dragon's clumsy descent.
Vionette carved out a piece with a silver fork, the golden glaze shimmering like liquid sun, and guided it to Noa's.
Throughout the garden, the passing maids, the stoic cleaners, and the perimeter guards all practiced the well-honed art of looking anywhere else. Some shielded their eyes with their hands, while others developed a sudden, intense fascination with the texture of the stone paths, their faces flushing at the blatant display of royal affection.
"That King of Lythoria... he's quite the interesting individual," Vionette mused as she pulled the fork back and took a small, dainty bite for herself, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Mmm? Why is that?" Noa asked, his brow arching as he watched the way the sunlight caught the crimson in her irises.
"Lythoria is a speck compared to the current Crimvane. It's small—maybe comparable to Eryndor before we turned it into our archduchy." She leaned back, her body pressing into the crook of Noa's arm. As she shifted, Noa's hands instinctively adjusted to support her weight, causing her legs to lift slightly and swing with a playful, rhythmic motion. "And yet, they walked in here like they held all the cards. They didn't let the conversation slip for a second. They were prepared for anything—even an alliance they didn't think was possible."
She swung her legs back and forth, the movement light and rhythmic against Noa's thigh as she leaned further into his palm.
"Why did they show up now, anyway?" Noa looked at her, his expression sharpening. "Is there some kind of special event, or did they just really want to share their cake?"
"Exactly that. The yearly banquet held by the Northern Council is approaching." Vionette sat back up, the movement bringing her face inches from his, and she speared another golden piece of cake and brought it to his mouth. "Every kingdom that matters gets an invite. I have a feeling Lythoria is planning to set the stage for something big that night."
"A yearly banquet? Does every kingdom on the map show up for this?" Noa asked, the sweetness of the honeyed batter lingering on his tongue.
"No. They won't invite everyone... or rather, they can't invite everyone," she said, popping the last bit of cake into her own mouth and licking a stray drop of honey from her lip.
"Huh? Why? Space issues?"
"Because Mythara's length is immeasurable." She looked up at the gazebo's ceiling, her gaze seeming to pierce through the stone to the sky beyond. "You can travel for a lifetime in one direction and never find a loop, an end, or a familiar shore. There are always more civilizations, more lands, more secrets. It's a canvas without edges."
She looked back down at him, her smile turning thin and mysterious.
"So, we just draw an arbitrary line. We divide the known world into five sectors: North, South, West, East, and the Center. The council only cares about our slice of the infinite."
"What the fuck?" Noa nearly choked on his cake, his eyes widening. "What kind of nonsensical geometry is that? An immeasurable world?"
"Don't overthink it, Blackie. Mythara is a beautiful nightmare, weird in every way possible, and there's still so much left to discover." She placed a soft, playful hand over his lips to quiet his protests and leaned her face closer, her breath warm against his skin. "We can discover those secrets little by little... as we dive deeper into that power of yours too. Mmm~"
She pressed her lips to his, a brief, lingering kiss that tasted of honey and ambition.
"So, are we in this council thingy? Are we getting an invite?" Noa asked once their lips parted, though he didn't pull away, their foreheads remaining pressed together.
"The old Crimvane was in the council—the 'Blessed Kingdom.' The new one? We're an unknown variable." Her smile shifted, becoming arrogant and beautifully sinister. "I was originally going to tell the council to go screw themselves. But now that we've allied with Lythoria, I suppose we have to go and see what kind of mess they're planning to stir up, don't we?"
Grab!
Suddenly, Noa reached up and pinched her cheeks between his thumb and index finger. Her regal expression vanished, replaced by an 'O' shape that made her look like a surprised pufferfish.
"So you just signed a whole-ass alliance just because you wanted an excuse to go stir up some trouble, huh?" He shook her head gently from side to side, a grin breaking across his face.
"Why? Dwo ywou complwain?" she asked, her voice muffled and high-pitched, her cheeks flushing a bright, embarrassed red.
"I'm not complaining. I still remember the first thing you offered me: entertainment." His smile widened, becoming something sharper, more affectionate. "Though these days, I'm finding myself plenty entertained just by a certain white snake."
"Mmmm! RRRMMM!" Vionette growled, her eyes flashing as she tried to lunged at him in mock annoyance. "Mmm…!?"
Noa cut her off with another kiss, deeper this time.
The Vionette who was ready to punch him softened instantly. Her fingers pressed against her own lips once they parted, her other hand gripping the fabric of her black skater skirt. Her eyes were half-lidded, glazed with a mixture of affection and dazed surprise.
"Let's go see how those three rascals are doing, kay?" he said, standing up with her still held firmly in his arms.
"…k," she whispered, leaning her cheek against his chest.
[Blink]
***
The air in the rectangular common room was thick with the scent of lavender soap and the lingering salt of fried snacks.
"In the end, I was the one who won, wasn't I?" Viselle's voice was a mocking purr.
After a fight that had stretched from the previous night into the mid-morning sun—and a non-negotiable bath forced upon them by an irritated Rose—Viselle had transformed. She was now dressed in a white cropped hoodie that showed off a purple tank top beneath. Her black destroyed denim shorts were paired with fishnet tights that vanished into chunky, heavy creepers.
"In your dreams. We were the ones who held the ground," Elina snapped, reaching out to yank on a lock of Viselle's hair.
The dragon girl was currently using her heat magic to steam the moisture out of her own hair and the others', her head glowing with a faint, shimmering aura. She wore a red, off-the-shoulder frill blouse tucked into a black A-line suspender skirt with suspenders. Opaque thigh-high stockings and black leather loafers completed her look, making the dragon-girl look like a refined but dangerous student.
"Yeah, we definitely won. What are you even talking about?" Lina added, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
She sat enveloped in an oversized pink knit sweater with extra-long sleeves that swallowed her hands, paired with a tiered black skirt. Solid black thigh-high socks and white platform low-tops occupied her legs.
"No, no, no," Viselle waved a playful hand. "I only let you girls stay in the fight to make the choreography more interesting. It's called 'artistic flair.'"
"W-what?! We were the ones letting you hold on!" Elina barked, a single sharp fang peeking over her lip in her rage.
"Whatever you say, little lizard~"
"You... get back here!"
The room was a mess of low-profile sofas and a low wooden table cluttered with half-empty snack bowls. The polished dark wood floor was almost entirely covered by a neutral-colored rug, where the three were currently sprawling and bickering.
Creak.
"Girls, you in here?"
Noa pushed the door open and walked in, but Vionette wasn't walking beside him. He was carrying her in front of him, his hands securely supporting her as she perched in his grip like a long-bodied cat.
Noa looked at the sight: Elina had Viselle pinned to the rug, one hand on her throat and the other pulled back into a fist ready to deliver a 'corrective' blow. To the side, Lina had her palm pressed to her forehead, looking like a sister who was deeply reconsidering her life choices.
"...It was not my fault," Elina squeaked, instantly releasing Viselle and pulling her hands back. "W-we were just playing! Heheheheh... heh." She immediately began giving Viselle a frantic, apologetic shoulder massage.
"Hey..." Lina narrowed her eyes, looking past Noa to the silver-haired woman on his hands. "Is it just me, or can I see a tail and two cat ears on her?"
"Huh?" Elina stopped the massage, blinking.
"..."
The three rascals stared. For a split second, the image of a smug feline seemed to overlay Vionette's form, but as they blinked, it vanished.
"Look at me like that again and you're all dead meat," Vionette threatened, her voice dropping an octave as she slid off Noa's hands and smoothed out her blouse.
"Y-yes ma'am!" the three chirped in terrifying unison.
"Anyway, we came to get you guys. We're going somewhere," Vionette said, leaning her weight against Noa's shoulder again.
"Somewhere?" Elina asked, springing to her feet with inhuman grace. "Where? Is there more cake? Or something to break?"
"It's autumn," Noa said, already turning toward the door. "Which means it's the best season to watch the sun go down. Let's head to the rooftop."
…
[Blink]
The space on the rooftop folded like aged parchment as Noa teleported into existence, Vionette held securely in his arms. Beside them, the air hummed as Elina ascended, her small but powerful dragon wings beating a slow, rhythmic tempo as she carried Lina. Viselle rose last, a trail of shimmering Aether discharging from the base of her spine.
As an Augmented Lifeform, she couldn't naturally float like a Transfused Lifeform, but by emitting high-density Aether as a constant, low-level thrust, she could dance through the air. It was a tiring process, usually reserved for the frantic maneuvers of combat, but for a sunset, it was a simple price to pay.
The group settled onto the cold stone of the roof. Noa and Vionette sat at the center, their shoulders pressed together, Noa's hand resting comfortably around her waist. Elina and Lina sat to their right, their bickering finally silenced by the view. Viselle sat to the left, her legs dangling over the edge of the abyss.
"Ohhhh~ Look at that!" Elina whispered, pointing toward the horizon.
"It's so pretty..." Lina agreed, her blue eyes reflecting the dying light, her mouth slightly agape.
The sun was a massive, ember-red eye sinking into the 'immeasurable world'. The horizon didn't just glow; it bled gold and purple, the light radiating across the clouds like the feathers of a phoenix.
Noa and Vionette remained silent, leaning their heads against each other.
Viselle watched the sunset, her mind drifting back through centuries of memories. She remembered sunsets from a hundred different lives—lives where she had been an empty shell. Those sunsets had been beautiful, but they had been cold. They hadn't meant anything.
Now, her chest felt tight. She felt... heavy. But it was a good kind of heavy.
She looked down at the tattoo on her left hand—the black crown with its uneven, jagged spikes. It was a brand, a mark of ownership, but to her, it felt like a tether to reality. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Noa, then back at the tattoo. A simple, warm smile—one that actually reached her eyes—spread across her face.
The sun dipped lower, the ember light radiating one last time before the shadows of the infinite world began to rise.
A man who had been abandoned by his own world; a woman who was wanted only by a fake one; a child who had lost her father to the darkness; a dragon discarded by her own blood; and an entity who had lived as an empty vessel for centuries.
All these lonely, fractured souls were now gathered in one single rooftop, silent and still, watching the light fade—not as allies, or soldiers, or subjects.
But as a family.
...
...
[Illustrations]