World of Feathers

The city reeked of smoke and blood.
Tatsuchi Kuroainaru was just three. Too small to understand what was happening, yet too old to ignore the screaming. 
Red light spilled into the streets. Walls cracked. People ran. Some screamed. Some fell. Explosions shook the ground. Metal clanged. 
Flames consumed everything. Shadows flickered in every corner.
A cold hand grabbed her.
Her mother’s face appeared. Eyes wide and steady. “Hold on to me.”
Tatsuchi clung. Heat licked at their heels. Smoke choked her lungs. Screams filled the streets. Somewhere above, she saw a figure move. Hooded. Silent. Still.
In the bedroom, she saw a child, someone else who needed saving.
Him. I know it was him. I don’t know who he is. But I know I left him there.
“Go back. Get him.”
Her mother frowned but didn’t argue. She ran. Held her tight. They escaped.
Tatsuchi woke up in her bed. Sheets smelled of smoke and wet cloth. Her chest heaved. Hands trembled.
Kiyoko, her mother, stood in the doorway.
“You’re awake,” she said. Just words. No warmth.
Tatsuchi rubbed her eyes. She remembered the fire. The hand. The figure. She’d left something, or someone, in that room. She couldn’t remember.
Maybe one day I’ll remember. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Things left behind tend to bite you later anyway.
“Get dressed,” Kiyoko said. “Make your way to the gates.”
Something had started that night. She didn’t know what. It never ended.
Tatsuchi rolled out of bed. Muscles stiff. Mind faster than her body. Sheets still warm from her mother’s care. She rubbed her eyes. Glanced at the doorway. Kiyoko was watching.
“Mom… who did I leave in that room that night?”
Kiyoko stiffened. Hands tightened. “What do you mean?”
“You know. That thing. Or person. Whoever it was.”
“You were dreaming just now before I arrived,” Kiyoko said, voice tight. “It was just a dream.”
Tatsuchi pressed her lips into a thin line. Eyes narrowed. Chest rose with anger and confusion. A strange itch for control. She let out a low sigh. Shrugged. Stone-cold mask back in place.
“Whatever,” she said calmly.
Dreams or memories. Who cares?
If it matters, I’ll find out myself. She got dressed. Kimono perfect. Sword at her side. Every motion precise. Untouchable.
The staff look, they notice, they bow. And I don’t care. If they wanted respect, they should earn it. The halls stirred. Staff and guards all about the resident. Nods. Murmurs. She ignored them. Steps measured. Eyes glinting.
Even at ten, she was a prodigy. Zyn flow and control beyond her age. Fourteen, valedictorian of Saint Eve’s Private Junior Academy for Gifted Girls. Eighteen, top of the Royal Academy of the Gifted Arts. Normally, students finished in their mid- to late-twenties. Not her. Instinct and raw skill. Her father’s training was brutal
People think training is the hard part. The hard part is remembering you’re stronger than everyone else and acting like it matters.
The gates loomed. The 3 suns caught banners. As the shadows stretched, Tatsuchi stood. She led outside. Her yellow kimono swayed. Guards and staff scuttled aside. Polite bows are ignored. Eyes forward. Expression unreadable.
Asumi walked beside her. Hands tucked into sleeves. Smirked. “You act like they’re crawling on the ground for you.”
“They basically are,” Tatsuchi said. A spark of amusement. Zhenyu trailed behind. Muted. “Insufferable as always.” 
“You say that like it’s news,” she said. Asumi laughed. “One day she’ll snap someone in half and complain about their manners.”
Zhenyu shook his head. “I don’t want to be around when she decides manners are optional.”
Tatsuchi smirked faintly. “Relax. I’ve got manners. Keep up.” Streets of Phoenixis moved around them. Vendors shouted. Children ran between legs. Soldiers drilled. Crates clanged. Chaos under smoke-stained suns.
“Do you ever get used to this?” Asumi whispered. “The city waking up, all of this…” “You get used to what you survive,” Tatsuchi said. “Notice the rest, maybe, but it doesn’t matter.”
Life’s just a game of noticing the right things and ignoring the rest. Most people fail at both.
Zhenyu watched rooftops. “Some never get used to it. I remember the smell of smoke. Every day.”
Asumi went silent. Tatsuchi kept walking. Shoulders straight. Steps measured.
The massive gates rose. Guards inspected. Recognized them. Stepped aside. Tatsuchi’s glance alone kept soldiers in check.
Castle corridors stretched ahead. Polished floors reflected torchlight. Tapestries told legends. Guards sharp. Servants precise. Life moved orderly. Pulse of power beneath it.
At the end, Adam Kusuri, King of the Land of the Birds. Calm. Commanding. Made the room feel small and heavy.
“You’ve arrived. I pray your short journey uneventful?”
Tatsuchi stepped forward. Head high. Masked thoughts. “Yes, Your Majesty..”
Adam inclined his head. “I have gathered new information and have decided to order your group for a mission.”
“There’s trouble,” he said. Voice steady, words heavier than they should be. “The Revolutionary Army quietly moves again. Targeting higher nobles.”
“Targets? Like assassinations?”
“Yes. Bounties on nobles. Influence over provinces. What is no warning, but a statement. If unchecked, it destabilizes all we’ve built.”
Asumi’s arms crossed. “And you want us to handle it?”
“Yes. Find the mercenaries. Stop them. See what they know. Bring anything useful. Discretion is key.”
“Part of the Revolutionary Army?” Zhenyu asked.
Adam shook his head. “Not necessarily. Brokers, feeding information, stirring chaos. Funded by them. That’s what you find out.”
Tatsuchi smirked. “Hunt. Interrogate. Fight. Simple enough.”
Simple? No. Never simple. But it’s a start. Let’s see who breaks first. “Do not underestimate them,” Adam said. “Clever. Ruthless. Avethryn’s safety depends on what you find and how you handle it.”
Asumi whistled. “Sounds fun.”
Zhenyu nodded. “Report back if useful. If not… still stop them.”
“Good,” Adam said. “Be careful. Even small actions echo.”
Tatsuchi bowed. “Understood. We won’t fail.”
Adam inclined his head. “I know.”
The road opened onto Garudon’s southern coast. Rocky hills. Sharp salt in the wind. Waves crashed. White foam sprayed.
Tatsuchi’s boots crunched gravel. Hand brushed hilt. Eyes scanned. Muscles tense. Every sense alert. Winds heavy.
Asumi walked beside her. Arms folded. “Mercenaries don’t usually hide here. Musr ve planning something big.”
Zhenyu adjusted his bag. “Or just careful. Traps, scouts, someone could be watching.”
Tatsuchi said nothing. Jaw tightened.
Then it hit. 
Sharp and twisting. Stabbing in her side. She stumbled. Hands clutching herself.
Blood. No. 
Pain. Yes. 
Nothing. This keeps happening. Why now? Why here?
“Again?” Asumi asked. Eyes narrow.
Tatsuchi’s lips pressed tight. Mask back. Stone-cold. Shook her head. Kept walking. Learned long ago not to show weakness.
Hills grew steeper. Shadows longer. All three suns dipped lower.
Ahead. Mercenaries. Small group. Armed. Moving between tents. Unaware.
Tatsuchi crouched. Eyes flicked over every movement, gesture, glint of steel. World sharp. Alive and dangerous.
“Instinct tells me who will move first. Instinct never lies. But it also doesn’t care who dies.” said Tatsuchi. Asumi whispered, “First move, or watch?”
Tatsuchi hardened her gaze. “Stop them. Find what they know. Leave nothing.”
Zhenyu nodded. Shoulders tight.
Far behind, on a cracked streetlight, a hooded figure watched. Eyes unreadable. They saw everything. Thoughts hidden.
Suns dipped lower. Shadows stretched long.
The hunt had begun.