Responsibility

The sun sank behind Azoth’s walls, painting the marble towers in shades of orange. The travelers, cloaked in dust and fatigue, crossed the drawbridge. Armed guards followed them with wary eyes, suspicious of the hoods that concealed their faces.

Asori hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the forest near the castle. His gaze stayed fixed on the ground, as if afraid that lifting his head would bring back Lira’s smile, frozen forever in memory.

Blair walked beside him, wanting to speak but unable to find words. Through the Sweet Kiss she felt everything boiling inside him, and it hurt more than any wound to know he felt that way.

Mikan, on the other hand, strolled casually, hands resting behind her neck.
—Pretty city. Though too clean for my taste. Gold always shines brighter when it’s dirty.

Blair shot her a glare.
—Could you at least pretend to show respect?

—Of course. —Mikan smirked—. Want me to kneel and kiss the ground?

Asori let out a sigh so faint it was almost swallowed by the air. Blair nearly snapped back, but held her tongue.

The grand hall of Azoth welcomed them, its vaulted stained-glass dome scattering color across the floor. On a side throne, simpler than regal, sat Tifa—the Queen who had led the resistance since Zeknier rose.

—You’ve returned, Blair… and Asori. I’m glad your first mission didn’t cost you your lives —she said, relief flickering in her voice as she rose to greet them.

Blair bowed with respect.
—Yes, Aunt. And we didn’t return alone.

Mikan stepped forward, lowering her hood. Her dark-blue hair caught the stained light.
—Name’s Mikan. Bearer of the Water Orb. I’m here… for gold. And maybe for this odd boy standing next to me.

The room froze. Blair nearly choked.
—What are you saying?!

Tifa narrowed her eyes, studying her.
—Direct. I expected no less from someone with your reputation.

Mikan raised a brow, smirking.
—Reputation? How intriguing…

Blair stepped forward, outraged.
—She can’t be trusted, Aunt! She mocks, lies, and only cares about bets.

Mikan tilted her head with calm mockery.
—Relax, Gray-Haired Princess. If I wanted to stab you in your sleep, I’d have done it already.

—Stop calling me that! Only Asori’s allowed! —Blair shouted, blushing.

Tifa lifted her hand, silencing them with firm authority.
—Enough. If Blair trusts you enough to bring you here, I’ll listen. But don’t mistake my patience for leniency.

Mikan crossed her arms.
—Perfect. Then listen closely. I didn’t come here for ideals. I don’t care about revolutions. I came because I know in the tournament I’ll find something worth more than any sack of gold.

Blair frowned.
—And what could possibly matter more than winning this war?

Mikan’s smile faltered briefly, revealing the hardness beneath.
—Information that could be worth thousands—no, millions.

Tifa weighed them both with her gaze. Then she noticed what was missing.
—And Asori?

Blair turned. He was gone.

Asori’s steps echoed down the marble corridors. His hands trembled, yet he didn’t hesitate where to go.

He pushed open the door to the castle’s observatory. Inside, Eryndor sat on a cushion before an open window, his white hair stirred by the night breeze.

The sage regarded him calmly, though curiosity lit his eyes.
—Well, what a surprise. The boy from the mountains comes to me by his own will?

Asori bowed slightly, breathing deep.
—I need to speak with you.

—What weighs so heavily on you, child of the air?

Asori clenched his fists. Then he spoke of Lira—her grandfather, the guilt consuming him, how he turned his back thinking nothing would happen… and how it had cost an innocent life.

His words broke apart until he fell to his knees, tears sliding down.
—I couldn’t save her! And I was right there! I could’ve done something!

In the hall nearby, Blair felt Asori’s collapse through the bond. She rushed to move, but Mikan caught her arm.

—No.

—His heart… it’s shattering! He needs me!

—No, Blair. —Mikan’s voice was serious for the first time—. He already feels you through the bond. But this confession—it isn’t for you. It’s for him… and the man he now sees as his master.

Blair trembled, eyes brimming.
—But I promised I’d never leave him alone…!

—Listen to me. If you hold him now, he’ll never learn to stand on his own. Let him fall. Only then will he learn to rise.

Blair lowered her gaze. Seeing her pain, Mikan eased her grip, then added with a smirk:
—Although… if you want to console him later, I could give you some tips—since you’ve got “good reasons” to lift his spirits. —Her eyes darted shamelessly to Blair’s chest.

—You perverted ninja! I can console Asori in other ways! —Blair yelled, flustered.

Mikan laughed, but her eyes stayed somber.

Inside, Eryndor rose, walking toward Asori with slow, steady steps.
—Do you know what I fear most about power, Asori? Not excess. Indifference. Powerful men who think doing nothing spares them of guilt… carry as many deaths as those who kill with their own hands.

The wind surged, rattling the candles.
—Every life matters. Every decision—even to look away—shapes destinies. You’ve learned this the hardest way. Now tell me, what will you do with the pain in your heart, child of the Air?

Asori met his gaze through tears. He’d run from so many things in life, but he couldn’t run anymore.

—I always thought doing nothing was the only way —he said, voice trembling—. I learned it when my parents died and no one reached out. When I screamed for help and no one answered.

His breath faltered, each word tearing from his chest.
—That day I understood my life didn’t matter. And if no one cared for me… why should I care for anyone else? I convinced myself indifference was the only way to survive. That being invisible was the only way to stop hurting.

The tears fell heavy as lead.

—But then I met Blair. She shattered that lie. In the most desperate moment, when I was mortally wounded, she didn’t hesitate—even with just one chance against Zeknier. She spent it on me. A stranger. Someone she’d barely met.

His voice cracked.
—She risked everything… and in that instant, I understood what I had forgotten: that a life does matter. Even mine.

Asori thought of Lira, small and defenseless, her smile erased forever. The void tore open again—but this time, he faced it.

—I don’t want anyone else to die in front of me. I can’t bring Lira back, or my parents… but I can stop others from suffering the same. Blair made me promise I’d use my strength only to protect, never to stain my hands with blood. And now I understand: that’s the path I want.

He drew a breath, words heavy with resolve he had never dared before.
—I have power. And with it… responsibility. I don’t want to run anymore. I don’t want to close my eyes. I’m ready to carry my mistakes, my fears, whatever comes.

His body trembled—not with fear, but with decision. He bowed, pressing his forehead to the floor.
—Master… please. Let me be your disciple. I want to end this war… but I also want to save lives. I won’t stand idle when I have the power to help.

A heavy silence filled the room. Eryndor watched him with calm eyes, but inside, he recognized the weight of those words.

Finally, he spoke:
—You’re greedy, Asori. To want to win a war without killing… is like expecting the wind never to storm. —A faint smile touched his lips—. But perhaps that greed is your strength. That impossible wish… may show you a path no one else can see.

He placed a hand on Asori’s shoulder.
—Child of the Air… from this day, I accept you as my pupil. I was waiting for you to take this step. You’ve had the courage to be vulnerable, and that’s something few ever achieve. Never forget: asking for help is also bravery.

Asori lifted his head. His tears were no longer of sorrow, but of relief. For the first time in years, his life felt like it had direction. His pain hadn’t been in vain.

That day, under his master’s gaze, he understood his true training was only beginning. And with it… the rebirth of the one who would someday be called the Warrior of Air.

Meanwhile, in the hall, Tifa studied Mikan with calculating eyes.
—You are not like my niece. Nor that boy. Don’t play with me. Tell me—what do you truly hope to gain from the tournament?

Mikan crossed her arms.
—Gold. Fame. Fun.

—You lie —Tifa cut her off.

For the first time, Mikan’s smirk fell.
—Fine. I want answers. And I’m almost certain the tournament will reveal what everyone hides: the true identity of Zeknier. Rumor has it he wears a face in public, while working in secret behind it.

Blair’s eyes widened. Tifa’s narrowed.
—Then you’d better bet wisely, ninja. Because at this table… losing means death.

Mikan smiled, but her eyes stayed cold.
—Don’t worry. I always keep an ace up my sleeve.