The Edge of Water

The group had left the Capital at dawn. The forest separating the city from the road to Azoth’s castle was alive with murmurs: creaking branches, birds hiding, leaves whispering secrets to each other.

Asori walked with his hood pulled low. He didn’t speak much, still carrying the shadow of Lira, but his steps weren’t as heavy as the day before.

Blair, beside him, tried light conversation.

—You know? I think I’m starting to miss Mikrom’s watery soup.

Asori raised a brow.
—Miss that? I thought you had a princess’s palate.

She puffed her cheeks in mock outrage.
—I’m not that delicate!

Mikrom, walking ahead, laughed loud.
—Don’t contradict her, kid. When we were little, once she spat out an apple because it wasn’t sweet enough.

—That’s a lie! —Blair flushed red.

Asori let out a dry laugh. Small, but a laugh nonetheless. Blair caught it, and her heart skipped.

Suddenly, the forest went dead quiet. No birds. No insects. Mikrom tensed, hand lowering to his sword.

—Something’s wrong.

A whistle cut the air. Shhhk! A rain of blades shadowed down from the trees. Asori barely reacted in time, transforming in a blink, unleashing a gust that deflected part of the attack.

Blair ignited flames around them, a circle of heat.

From the underbrush came bandits in light armor, faces wrapped in black cloth. They had the clumsiness of cheap mercenaries—but the bloodshot eyes of men under Zeknier’s orders.

—You wanted a show! —one shouted, brandishing a machete—. Here it is!

Asori readied himself, but Mikrom stopped him with a gesture.

—Let Blair and me handle it. Save your strength for—

A flash of blue cut him off.

In the blink of an eye, a hooded figure dropped from the trees. The landing was silent, graceful.

—Too much noise for an ambush —said a female voice, cold and mocking.

She moved her hands fluidly. The air filled with droplets that hadn’t been there a second before. Then they sharpened into blades of water that sliced through armor like paper.

Short screams. Bodies collapsed. Blood mingled with water in the mud.

The survivors recoiled, terrified.

The hooded woman twirled a kunai in her fingers like shuffling poker cards.
—Five against one. Bad odds for you.

One bandit fled. She didn’t chase. Calmly sheathed her weapon as if nothing had happened.

Blair narrowed her eyes. The Water Orb glowed faintly at the collar around her neck.

Asori stared, still transformed.
—Who… are you?

The figure lowered her hood. Short, dark-blue hair, rebellious strands over grayish-blue eyes that measured every move like probabilities on a board.

—Name’s Mikan —she said with the faintest smile—. Bearer of the Water Orb.

Blair’s jaw tightened.
—A bearer… What are you doing here?

—Same as you, I guess. Staying alive one more day. Winning a little gold. Betting my throat doesn’t get slit in an alley. —She spun another kunai—. And you? Lost tourists?

Asori shrugged.
—Something like that.

Mikrom folded his arms, brow raised.
—I’d heard Mikan was a hulking man with a scar on his face.

—Oh, that rumor? I made it up. —She grinned—. Always useful to be underestimated.

Blair stepped forward.
—Why help us?

Mikan tilted her head.
—Because it was fun. And I figured: “If those three die, I’ll have no one left to bet on in the tournament.”

Asori frowned.
—Tournament?

—Of course. —Mikan shrugged—. Everyone in the Capital’s talking about it. Gold, glory, blood. My kind of gamble. You can still sign up—the pre-selection’s not over yet.

Blair pressed her lips.
—And to you it’s just a game?

—Isn’t it? —Mikan shot back, calm and irritating—. Life’s a table of bets. You win, you lose, you smile, or you die. Chance never lies.

Asori fell quiet. Something in those words echoed himself—before Lira. That same cynicism of “not my problem.”

But now it hurt to hear it.

Mikrom broke the tension with a tongue-click.
—Well, well… a cold, deadly ninja? Just my type.

Mikan flicked a kunai past his ear, burying it in a tree.
—Try another joke and your type will be “dead on a tree.”

Asori chuckled softly. Blair too, though she hid it with her hand. Mikrom feigned outrage.

—Is this how you treat the future hero of the revolution?

—Yes —Mikan replied flatly—. With more knives than you can count.

She turned, adjusting her hood.
—Don’t get used to me. I travel alone. Groups always end up dragged by someone else’s choices.

Blair was about to protest, but Asori stopped her with a hand on her arm.
—Let her go. She wants to gamble solo.

Mikan glanced back with that cynical smile that revealed nothing.
—Exactly, Princess. I always play my own hand.

Blair’s eyes widened.
—How… do you know?

Mikan pressed a finger to her lips.
—Guess.

Then vanished into the trees, swallowed by the forest.

Silence returned. Mikrom sighed.
—Deadly, sarcastic, dangerous ninja? Definitely my type.

Blair smacked his shoulder.
—Idiot.

Asori murmured, still thoughtful:
—But she’s right. Life does feel like a gamble… Only, I don’t want to keep losing.

Blair glanced at him, pride and worry mixing in her gaze. The cold forest air whispered one certainty: they’d cross paths with that ninja again. And next time, it wouldn’t be so simple.

The group pressed on along trails where undergrowth choked the light. After Mikan, the air seemed heavier, packed with unspoken questions.

Asori walked in silence, cloak dragging leaves and dust. Every so often, his eyes searched the shadows, as if expecting that bluish silhouette to leap again from the trees.

Blair kept her eyes forward, but her mind elsewhere. “Princess.” Mikan had said it casually, mockingly, as if she knew secrets no one should. The thought unsettled her.

Mikrom, meanwhile, seemed at ease. He hummed a crude tune, tossing a stone up and down like meeting a bearer was as ordinary as buying bread.

—I still can’t believe she meant it… —Blair muttered.

—Meant what? —Asori asked.

—That life’s just a gamble.

Asori shrugged.
—I used to think that too.

Blair looked at him sideways.
—And now?

He stayed silent a few beats.
—Now I think… if I lose again, I won’t survive it.

Blair lowered her gaze. The Sweet Kiss fed her the weight of those words, and her heart ached with it.

The afternoon dimmed quickly. Fog rolled over the forest like a shroud. Mikrom halted, hand raised.

—Feel that?

Asori frowned.
—What?

—The silence. —Mikrom slid his stone blade partway free—. This forest shouldn’t be this quiet.

A crack among the branches confirmed it. Blair lit a small flame in her palm. The fog glowed faintly, revealing shapes moving between trees.

—Another ambush… —Asori muttered tensely.

But not bandits. Twisted faces, elongated claws, hollow eyes—Megalos, Class D. Monsters born of corrupted Astral.

The first lunged with a guttural shriek. Asori dodged on instinct, rolling back. Blair raised a wall of fire, forcing them away. Mikrom struck down with his blade, splitting one clean.

—Too many! —Blair cried.

At least eight surrounded them, more slithering in the fog.

Then—a shadow dropped like a spear. Water, shaped into a whip, sliced the air, beheading a Megalo clean.

The figure flowed among them, moving with inhuman grace. Every strike was exact, as if she’d bet everything on a single number and hit it.

Mikan.

—You again… —she muttered, wiping blood from a kunai—. Starting to think you attract trouble like flies.

Asori exhaled in relief. Blair pressed her lips, wary. Mikrom grinned shamelessly.
—What a pleasant coincidence, miss assassin.

—Shut up. —Mikan rolled her eyes before leaping at another Megalo, driving a water-hardened dagger through its skull.

The fight was brutal but short. Between Blair’s flames, Mikrom’s might, Asori’s reflexes, and Mikan’s precision, the creatures fell one by one.

When it ended, the ground was littered with steaming corpses and pools of blood mixed with water.

Mikan sheathed her blades, then staggered. A wound in her side, barely noticeable before, stained her dark clothes. She leaned on a tree, hiding it.

Blair spotted it instantly.
—You’re hurt!

—It’s nothing. —Mikan gritted her teeth—. Just… a bad bet.

Asori stepped forward.
—Let me help.

She sneered.
—I don’t need help from a weakling who only dodges.

—Then don’t ask. —Asori shrugged—. I’ll help anyway.

She tried to retort, but exhaustion won. Asori caught her before she fell. For a heartbeat, she met his eyes, and the usual mockery flickered—replaced by something rare: vulnerability.

—Tch… —she muttered—. I hate losing.

They took shelter in a nearby cave. Mikrom lit a small fire. Blair cleaned and bandaged Mikan’s wound, while she allowed it begrudgingly.

—Don’t think this means I trust you —the ninja rasped.

—Didn’t ask for trust —Blair replied firmly—. Just don’t die in front of us.

Asori watched quietly. The Sweet Kiss pulsed faintly, as if Blair were holding her emotions back. He, meanwhile, couldn’t stop seeing how much Mikan resembled himself: someone who feigned indifference just to hide how alone she was.

Mikan broke the silence with a bitter laugh.
—You know the worst part? I still think it was a good move. —She touched her side—. Worth the blood.

Mikrom chuckled under his breath.
—I really like you.

—I’ll kill you in your sleep —she muttered without looking up.

Later, with Mikrom snoring in a corner, Blair leaned toward Asori.

—Do you notice anything strange about her? —she whispered.

Asori glanced back.
—Besides gambling with her life every fight… yeah. She’s hiding something.

Blair pressed her lips.
—She called me “Princess,” like she knew. What if she works for Zeknier? What if she’s mocking us?

Asori sighed.
—Then why save us? Why bleed for people she doesn’t know?

Blair had no answer. Deep down, something told her Mikan wasn’t an enemy. Not yet.

Dawn seeped into the cave. Mikrom rose first, tightening his cloak.
—I’ll stay in the Capital a few more days. If I vanish now, Zeknier will suspect. You two head back to the castle.

Blair frowned.
—You’ll leave us with her?

—Yeah. —Mikrom glanced at Mikan, still asleep against the wall, breathing heavily—. You need a blade like that in your group, even if you don’t know it yet.

Asori looked at him, puzzled.
—And if she betrays us?

Mikrom smirked, that irritating yet reassuring confidence back.
—Then you’ll have the perfect excuse to drag her in as a prisoner.

He left the cave, fading into the fog.

Blair turned to Asori, heart tight.
—What if she wakes and doesn’t want to stay?

Asori met her eyes for a long moment. Then, steady, he said:
—Then we’ll convince her. Because even if she thinks life’s just a gamble… I won’t let her keep playing alone.

At that, Mikan opened her eyes, hearing every word—though she pretended to still be asleep.