The Serpent Between Pages

A white serpent — ancient, coiled around a broken temple. Regal. Still. But the eyes… one obsidian black, the other glowing yellow. Kazuo’s heartbeat surged. His hand rose to his face, brushing the edge of his black eye. “…This… thing is like me.”

Tetsu leaned slightly across the table. "What is it?"

Kazuo didn't respond at first. His gaze remained locked on the illustration as if he expected it to move.

"There's no description," he muttered, flipping the page.

He flipped once. Then again. Still nothing. No text. No label. No spells. No history.

Just that single, full-page image — wedged between chapters on advanced water-pressure techniques.

"…Why is it even in here?"

Tetsu tilted his head, his eyes at the serpent. "This… truly is weird."

He tapped the page thoughtfully. "I mean, I've seen illustrations of spirit creatures before — even in elemental guides. But this one…it looks ominous"

Kazuo's eyes narrowed. "It's clearly part of the book though. The paper's the same. The ink hasn't been added later."

Tetsu's gaze moved between the illustration and Kazuo — once, then again.

"As far as I know," he murmured, "heterochromia isn't unusual in some animals. Snakes, especially. Reptiles use it to adapt. I've even read cases in birds and lizards…"

"But in humans? Elves, fae, beastkin…? Never. That phenomenon is unheard of."

He sat back, letting the statement hang.

"Well—until I met you."

Kazuo didn't respond.

Tetsu exhaled softly, voice lowering.

"Your eyes… I never gave much thought to that noble-class superstition. "But even I have to admit…" He gestured faintly toward Kazuo's eyes. "It doesn't fit into anything."

Tetsu looked at him — quiet now, thoughtful.

Kazuo's hand dropped from his face.

"Everything that's happened… the Hollow Veins, getting dragged into the palace, joining the squad, this tournament…It all started because of these eyes."

A beat of silence. Then, softer:

"I never cared about them the way everyone else did. Not really. But…"

He squinted slightly, as his fingers traced the edge of the illustration. "What if there's more to them than I thought?"

Tetsu didn't answer. Just watched him quietly as the glyph-lanterns above gave off their soft, pulsing light — like the library itself was holding its breath.

A moment passed in silence.

"Tetsu… what do you think this serpent means? "He stared at the page, breath held. "Not knowing is driving me crazy."

He adjusted his glasses. "Well, there is some kind of broken temple in the background. Maybe it's a real place… though it could be anywhere."

He paused, gaze thoughtful. "Could even be one of the Sacred Beasts, for all we know."

Kazuo looked up from the book at Tetsu. "Sacred… Beasts?”

He then shifted slightly in his seat, as if the memory tugged at him. "Oh… I remember. Setsuna mentioned them once — while he was explaining magic fusion. He Said they were tied to the origin of magic."

Tetsu gave a slow nod. "But don't expect more than that. In all my years wandering this library, I've never found a single official record on them. Only hearsay. Folklore."

Kazuo looked back at the illustration.

Tetsu tapped the page lightly. "To be fair, the colors aren't identical. Yours are green and black. This one's yellow and black. Still… close enough to raise questions."

Kazuo let a small breath out, gaze steady. "So… this might be the Sacred Beast of Water?

Tetsu didn't reply. Because there was no answer.

He tapped the leather with his knuckle.

This water tome…The same one Gramps had.

His throat tightened.

Did he know about this? About this serpent?

He stared down at the closed cover, the serpent's mismatched gaze still burning in his mind. What else is he hiding?

He glanced sideways, toward the staircase leading downstairs.

And Setsuna… maybe he knew more than he let on, too. The thought lingered, heavy in Kazuo’s throat.

Meanwhile, in the Lower Crescent, the streets were unusually quiet that afternoon.

Rei stood at the edge of the crooked stone path, hands in his pockets, staring up at the house he'd been eyeing for weeks. It wasn’t much — uneven shutters, a leaning chimney, ivy run wild. But there was something honest about it. Something warm.

He exhaled slowly, then nodded to himself.

"Soon," he murmured. "A few more months…then I can afford it. My own place. A family."

The thought made him smile — not the goofy grin he used around strangers, but something smaller. Real.

For a moment, he just stood there, listening to the wind rustle through the overgrown ivy.

All thanks to you, Kazuo. That idiot never forgets anything. Even in the middle of all this noble nonsense, he somehow made sure I didn't get left behind.

He blinked — once, slow — as if capturing the moment like a photograph.

He then turned away from the house, still smiling faintly. His future felt close enough to touch.

Then—A sound.

Soft and foreign.

A harp played somewhere in the Lower Crescent.

The sound cut through the quiet. Each note echoing against the stone walls.

Rei stopped walking.

He glanced around, but the street was empty. The melody was close, as if it were following him. It didn't sound like a street performer.

He followed it.

Down a narrow alley. Past a rusted gate. His steps quieted as the music grew stronger. It felt like it was pulling him forward.

He turned the last corner and saw her.

A woman stood on the edge of a stone well, holding a harp against her chest. Her braided brown hair swayed slightly in the breeze. Her eyes were gray, distant — like smoke that hadn't settled.

And then she began to sing.