Three People and One Shadow

Lys’s office was as quiet as a library. Star charts covered the walls; crystal lamps hung low, spilling a milky glow.

“Come in,” she said before Ayato even knocked.

He stood at the threshold and closed the door. In front of Lys, a small hooded figure was already waiting—half her face hidden by a mask, her blue eyes calm like thin ice. Their gazes brushed for just a moment, and yet it felt strange: like a thread of communication that had no language. Ayato caught a flash of Korvath—narrow halls, a scythe, ash—then it vanished.

Wasn’t she…

“Take a seat, Vin-chan.”

Ayato took a seat.

“The reason I dragged you in all sudden? Simple.” Lys twirled a finger in the air, voice carrying that teasing lilt. “That plan from three months back? It’s getting bumped up. We’re leaving… this week.”

Ayato blinked. “Moved up—so only two months?”

“Yup.” Lys kept her gaze elsewhere, a faint smirk on her lips. “Still planning to keep going?”

Ayato paused, but his answer came not from his mouth—it came from the steady rhythm of breath he had hammered into himself. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Lys slid a folder forward. “Meet Cielle Verna. She’ll be part of this mission.”

Ayato turned to the cloaked figure. Cielle said nothing. She only looked back—cold, clear, without judgment. Ayato gave a small nod.

She’s the one… from Korvath.

“Then, how many are in the team?” Ayato asked briefly.

“Four,” Lys replied. “You, me, Cielle, and Irea. Aurel and Ragna won’t be coming.”

Ayato leaned back. “So… the five legends you mentioned before—that includes Ragna, Aurellia, and yourself. The other two also carry black orbs, don’t they? Could it be, this Cielle too...”

Lys’s eyes smiled as she closed them, thin as eyelids. She neither confirmed nor denied—a small challenge.

Ayato answered with a thin, sardonic smile. “Fine. What’s the target?”

“Fenrir, Lord of the Fenlareth Forest,” Lys crossed her arms. “We’re not killing it. We’ll tame or bind. Fenrir won’t appear if I or others of my level are detected. That’s why we need bait—strong enough to survive, but not so strong that it refuses to show itself.”

Ayato understood where this was going. “So I’ll be the bait.”

“Correct, but only if you’re willing.” Lys didn’t press, but her words were straight. “Your last two months of training—timing, intervals, heat-and-cold management—that was all to make sure you live when Fenrir bites. Your job is simple: hold out until the teleport marker activates. When the marker lights, I and the others will be pulled to your location. After that, your part is done. Cielle will be near you—unseen—to intervene if something unexpected happens.”

Ayato didn’t answer right away. He stared at the map—the enchantment made it ripple faintly—then looked up. “I understand. I’ll do it.”

Lys gave a faint nod. “Bring as many instant boosters and healing stone as you can afford and carry, but not so much that it hampers your movement.”

“All right.”

“I’ll send the route, signals, and emergency protocols to your communicator tonight,” Lys continued. “Day after tomorrow we’ll do a full marker test. Once that’s done, we leave this week.”

Ayato stood. “Then I’ll head off and get ready.”

“Go on, Vin-chan~ Do your best to be prepared.”

Ayato nodded to Lys—and to Cielle. Their eyes crossed once more; the silence felt like an unspoken yes. He left.

The door shut. Quiet clung like cloth.

“Cielle-chan, can you hear me?” Lys looked at her. The hooded figure stayed still. A small nod.

“Good.” Lys scratched her hair—a rare gesture—then leaned against the desk. “Did you sense anything strange about that boy?”

Cielle tilted slightly, silent. Then she shook her head. After a pause, she nodded—once.

“So yes and no,” Lys muttered—half amused, half weary. “You’re the same as ever.” She looked toward the window, then spoke softer, as if confiding in the walls. “I don’t know what to call that phenomenon. Orbs usually give a push—not visions like his. There’s something in the way he synchronizes rhythm—without spilling over.” As if giving up on digging for an answer, Lys stretched and sighed.

“Haah~ Too many mysteries, too little time~”

Cielle gave no reply. She only watched the crystal lamp, then dipped her head once more as if to say: I understand your unease.

“Thank you,” Lys whispered… to no one in particular.

...

The palace, upper balcony. Night wind swept across the city like a long cloak.

King Veyric stood alone, gazing at the sky. His eyes were a dim green, his pupils holding no reflection of torches. On his lips—no smile, no anger. Only orderly emptiness.

Shadows crackled in the air, then hardened into a hooded figure. Red eyes glowed faintly beneath the cowl.

“Preparations are complete, Your Majesty,” the voice was heavy, dry. “The southern path is clear up to the forest’s edge.”

Veyric did not turn. “Yeah.”

The figure smiled crookedly—fangs bared on purpose—before dissolving into shadow once more, swallowed by night.

Veyric raised his hand before his chest, fingers closing as if grasping a star. The balcony’s torch shivered softly, as if afraid.

“One day, these hands will reach the stars,” his voice was barely audible. “And when that day comes… this world will be beautiful again. Purged of the filth of human civilization.”

The wind passed. The city stayed still. The stars—if they heard—gave no answer.