Trophy

“Let me go! Let me go!”

Eny kicked and writhed, but Jaka held her aloft like a captured animal being inspected before slaughter. He gripped the back of her top, lifting her effortlessly as she twisted in slow, useless circles, swatting at the three figures before her. The King stood at the center, his dark-robed advisor at his shoulder, and a slender woman in white lingering further back. It was the advisor’s eyes, sharp and analytical, that tracked her movement - not the King’s.

She could hear them. All of them. And she hated every second of it.

She focused on the King first - his mind was the easiest to breach. Simplistic. Hungry.

What a pretty girl. She’ll make a fine concubine when she grows older…

Her stomach lurched. She abandoned his thoughts immediately and slipped into the advisor’s mind.

Yes… green eyes, blonde hair…

His gaze hardened.

And the ability to read minds.

Eny made her face as blank as she could - he hadn’t detected her probing, couldn’t have, but she wasn’t going to risk any slip.

She turned her attention to the Angel holding her. His mind was different - quiet, dulled, like a vast machine running on minimum power. She almost thought she couldn’t reach him - but then she pushed a little deeper.

J… Jaka?

Jaka looked down at her without any hint of expression.

Do I know you? Oh. You are the child I spoke to while I drifted in the void.

She nearly nodded before remembering she was supposed to be playing scared and confused.

What’s going on, Jaka?

I don’t know. But they wanted you, so here you are.

Can I go back to Mama and Papa now? I don’t like it here…

No. Not unless I’m told to.

Oh…

Before she could try again, the advisor's voice cut through the hall.

“This is her, my liege. We should hook her up now, before J-1 arrives.”

He prayed his prediction was wrong, but he knew better. They were running out of time.

The King nodded.

“Agreed.”

He turned toward the woman in white.

“Yejide. The child is yours. Take her and prepare her. Quickly.”

Yejide moved forward with eerie calm, her white silks whispering across the stone floor. Her brunette hair flowed like liquid over her shoulders, and her slim frame made her look impossibly delicate - like a character from a dream.

But when she reached for Eny, something in her eyes froze the girl completely.

Eny’s limbs went slack. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream.

Yejide lifted her gently, cradling her as if she were a fragile treasure, and carried her out of the church. Eny’s heart thundered uselessly. Her mind strained, but she remained completely paralysed.

The moment the doors closed behind them, the advisor turned back to Jaka.

“J-2. J-1 will arrive soon, likely with the Formy. You are our main line of defence. When they arrive, you are to kill them both, but your priority is J-1. We can deal with a Formy. We cannot deal with an Angel. Understood?”

Jaka nodded once. No hesitation.

He turned away, seeking a position from which to wait. His processors churned, calculating. Assessing. Comparing.

J-1 had infinitely more combat experience. But Jaka was a second-generation model. Smaller. Faster. Marginally more efficient.

And in combat, a marginal edge was worth millions.

He cracked his knuckles - pointless, mechanical, but satisfying.

The biggest fight of his life was coming. And he intended to win it.

Ylfa clung tight to Jere’s neck, unable to speak over the shrill scream of his ion engines. He flew as fast as he could without harming her - nine hundred and seventy kilometers per hour. A normal person would never survive sustained flight at that speed, but Ylfa was no normal person. Even so, she kept her face buried between his shoulders, eyes and mouth clenched shut, breathing only thanks to the small pocket of calm air shielded beneath her head and his chest.

She didn’t know where they were and couldn’t ask. All she could do was hold on while her thoughts crashed violently into one another.

Could she fight an Angel?

The answer was a very obvious, resounding no.

But if Jere handled the Angel, she was confident she could deal with anything else that arose. That left the more urgent question - Eny. Where was she? Jere said he knew where she’d been taken first, so their best chance was to intercept before she was moved. Ylfa trusted him, so she didn’t press further.

But another thought clawed up beneath the panic: Why had Eny been kidnapped at all?

Her stomach sank. She’d never asked Eny where she’d come from. Not really. Not deeply. Shame tightened inside her chest. Had she really been so careless? Not only had she failed to keep an eye on her daughter when it mattered most, but she’d never even asked about her past - her birth mother, her father, her life before the forest.

A tear escaped despite her efforts. A single sob rose, but she crushed it down. Determination surged behind it, firm and new. When this was over - when they were safe - she was going to ask her daughter everything. Every question she’d been too afraid, too busy, or too complacent to ask.

The pitch of Jere’s engines suddenly lowered. The wind still ripped at her, but with less violence now. She lifted her head, blinking through the rushing air. She couldn’t see much - only vague silhouettes of distant hills. Dawn hadn’t come, but faint sunlight glimmered at the horizon.

Jere continued to decelerate until she was able to lift herself enough to speak into his ear.

“Where are we?”

His eyes never left the darkness ahead.

“The capital city of Yaffe. The place I was summoned.”

Memories surged through her - memories of their first meeting, of the chaos that had swallowed the city and changed the course of her life. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about returning, but there was no room for hesitation now.

Then Jere’s voice sharpened.

“Found her. She’s in the castle… I believe underground.”

Shock hit her harder than the wind had.

“How did you find her? I can’t see anything!”

“I’m boosting my sensitivity to her magic energy. It’s extremely strong right now, stronger than it’s ever been. I’m concerned.”

She grit her teeth. “Then let’s go get her.”

His expression didn’t change, though she couldn’t see it.

“It won’t be that simple.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

He nodded toward the inky silhouette of the city.

“Because Jaka’s coming up to meet us.”

Her heart thudded painfully. The idea of an Angel like Jere - just as fast, just as deadly - but hostile, invisible down in the gloom… it chilled her right through her bones.

“Where is he?”

Jere raised a hand, tracking something far ahead. She strained her eyes, gaining nothing, until he lifted his arm higher and-

There. A winged silhouette launched skyward, faint but unmistakable.

Jere sighed.

“He’s trying fear tactics, when what he should be doing is intercepting us. Disappointing.”

She recognised the word. She’d heard him say it before - when they’d first met. When he’d spared her life.

A high-pitched wail rolled through the sky. Another sigh from Jere.

“Surely he knows I can choose not to feel fear…?”

Ylfa shivered. “But I can.”

“Then hold on tight.”

She clamped her arms around him just as flickering blue lights began sparking across his body, enveloping them both. Jaka closed in from above, intent unmistakable - but Ylfa kept watching Jere.

And then the world snapped.

One heartbeat they were high above the countryside; the next they were skimming above the rooftops. Ylfa hadn’t felt the transition at all. Now the city blurred beneath them, Jaka far behind - for now.

With the city so close and so visible, everything became real. Terrifyingly real. She spotted the steep hill where the church and castle perched.

“Drop me through the window!” she shouted into his ear. “I’ll rescue Eny. You deal with Jaka!”

He nodded, accelerating up the slope toward the castle. Closer. Closer-

In a single, swift motion he plucked her from his back, cradling her to his chest. Her heart rammed against her ribs as the castle ballooned before them.

And then she was falling.

Just a glimpse of Jere streaking into the sky-

Then the window exploded around her. Shards of glass scattered as she rolled across stone flooring and sprang to her feet, unharmed. A rip marred the top of her clothing just above her chest, a flash of skin visible, but she didn’t spare it more than a glance.

She was in a guest room.

And Eny was somewhere below.

Ylfa sprinted for the hall.

She had a daughter to save.