Mona's eyes flickered away from Shiebe's gaze, and that subtle action made Shiebe realize just how wrong he had been. He quickly released his grip on her arm.
Shiebe: "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
The weight of his actions hit him. Pushing someone to reveal something so painful, especially when they weren't ready to share it, was wrong. He had been too forceful, and he regretted it.
Shiebe gave her one last glance before they walked heading for the entrance of the palace.
The grand hallway felt colder than usual, stretching before them like an endless road. The only sound was the quiet scrape of Shiebe's boots against the polished floor as he walked beside Mona.
Mona kept her eyes forward, her face unreadable. There was tension in the air—heavy, thick, like it could suffocate anyone in its path.
And then,they saw him.
Maz stood there, looking out at the night sky, When he heard them approach, he didn't turn. He didn't need to. He knew who it was.
But then, Mona—after a brief pause—spoke.
Mona:.. We need to talk.
Maz hesitated, but the edge in her voice made it clear that this was not something she'd let him run away from again. He took a slow breath, as if preparing himself, before he turned back to face them, silent, but clearly unwilling.
They walked together, but not really with each other, the tension thickening between them with every step. It felt like walking on brittle ice—each word, each gesture, threatening to break it all apart.
The garden was empty, save for the moonlight that bathed the ground in soft silver. The quiet was suffocating, too still to be real. Shiebe stayed a few steps behind, sensing something shifting in the air. A weight. A fracture that had been building for far too long.
Then Mona had broken the silence.
Mona: "Shiebe… You said you wanted to know what happened between me and him, right?"
Shiebe gave a quiet nod. No pressure this time—just listening.
Mona: "It was about a year ago. Me and Maz… we were part of a guild. The Fangs. There were seven of us. Most of them were older—adults, real soldiers—but they treated us like we belonged. I was nine. Maz was seven. Still kids… but strong enough to pull our weight. It felt like family. Until our last mission."
The wind stirred through the trees overhead, their branches creaking faintly as the garden's air grew heavier. The moonlight spilled across Mona's face, revealing a shadow of pain she didn't bother hiding.
—One Year Ago—
Mytus Continent, Upper Alley District
Mona: "Damn it! We can't let him get away. The others are closing in."
Maz: "Don't worry, Mona! We've got him!"
The hunt had begun hours ago. The Fangs had cornered a noble suspected of experimenting on captured slaves. The bastard was fast, but he wasn't invisible.
Maz and Mona kept to the ground, weaving through narrow alleys, while the others darted from rooftop to rooftop above, flanking the target.
And then—
Maz: "H-Huh?"
His steps faltered. Dead stop.
Mona: "Maz?! What are you—? Keep moving!"
But he didn't move. Instead, he turned into a side alley. Mona chased after him, teeth grinding in frustration.
Mona: "We're losing him! What the hell are you doing!?"
Then she saw it.
A child—maybe six, maybe younger—trapped beneath crumbling stone and shattered glass. She was barely breathing. Blood streaked her temple. Alone. Abandoned.
Maz: "I'm going."
He didn't hesitate. He ran to her.
Mona: "That's not our job! Maz—listen to me—we can't stop now! The others will handle it!"
Maz: "No one else is here! What if she dies while we wait?"
Mona: "Then she dies! That's the risk! That's always been the risk!"
She hated it. Every word burned her throat—but it was what their mentor taught them. Mission first. Always.
But Maz… Maz didn't care. He was already lifting rubble, scraping his arms raw.
Cursing under her breath, Mona rushed over and helped him. Together, they pulled the girl free. She was breathing—barely. That should've been enough.
Mona: "We need to move. Now."
She grabbed his wrist and dragged him down the alley, back toward the last trace of their target. But the street was empty. Cold. Silent.
The noble was gone.
Mona: "Damn it! You selfish idiot!"
Maz: "Selfish?! I saved her life!"
Mona: "At the cost of everything else! We had orders!"
Maz: "We're not machines, Mona!"
Mona: "No, we were a team. And you betrayed that!"
Maz yanked his arm free. His face was flushed, eyes wet—not with tears, but something worse. Anger. Hurt.
Maz: "You could've gone on without me. But you stayed. So whose fault is it really?"
Mona: "Don't you dare put that on me!"
BOOM.
The shockwave rolled through the alley like thunder from hell.
Maz & Mona: "?!"
Their ears rang. Dust filled their lungs. But they didn't wait. They ran.
Around the corner.
Down the blood-soaked street.
And there—they saw it.
Flames licked the walls like hungry wolves. Smoke choked the sky. The buildings around them burned like paper in a furnace.
And in the center of it all…
Bodies.
Twisted. Broken. Torn apart.
One man's arm still twitched, disconnected from his torso. Another's spine was half-exposed, sticking out like a jagged blade from his back. Blood stained the stone. Organs boiled in the fire. Eyes stared blankly at the stars.
The Fangs.
Their family.
Gone.
Mona: "No… No…"
She dropped to her knees.
Her breath caught—then shattered. One of the corpses still wore that red sash, the one their captain always joked made him look like a theater actor. He'd promised to teach her to cook after the mission. Said she was too skinny for a fighter.
His jaw was gone.
Maz: "N-No… they were just…"
He staggered forward. Then stopped.
Frozen.
His small hands clenched into fists.
Maz: "I should've been here. I should've—"
Laughter.
High. Cruel. Distant.
The Noble.
He was there—just beyond the smoke—running across the rooftops, his coat whipping behind him like a flag of war. His face was pale, eyes wild, mouth twisted in a grin too wide for his face.
Noble (shouting): "What a beautiful night!! Tell your masters the hunt's only just begun!!"
He vanished into the shadows.
Maz didn't scream. Mona didn't cry. Not yet.
They just stood there, two children surrounded by ash and death.
And silence.
A silence that would never leave them.
The flames had long since died.
But the heat lingered.
The scent of charred flesh, scorched blood, and smoldering guilt clung to their clothes long after they had fled the alley. Maz and Mona didn't speak as they slipped through backstreets and shadows, hearts hollowed by what they'd seen.
They had survived.
But only just.
Mona walked ahead in silence, her hands trembling with every step. The image of the red sash haunted her. Every blink brought back the faces—laughing around a campfire, teasing her, calling her "kiddo," promising a future that now lay in pieces.
She didn't look at Maz.
Not once.
She couldn't.
She didn't trust herself not to scream.
By the time they reached the fork in the road beyond the Mytus border, the morning sun had begun to rise, but it felt wrong—mocking, almost.
Mona: "...I'm going home."
Her voice cracked, barely audible.
Maz turned to her, lips parting slightly as if to speak, but nothing came out.
Mona (quietly): "I don't care where you go."
She didn't mean it.
Not entirely.
But she didn't take it back.
She turned and walked down the left path, disappearing into the trees.
Back to her hometown.
Back to where no one knew what she'd done—or failed to do.
Maz stood still, watching her go. The wind blew gently, but even that felt like it might break him.
Alone now.
No mission.
No guild.
No family.
He wandered. For days. Then weeks.
At some point, starving and half-conscious, a traveling instructor found him collapsed near a riverside. The man recognized the fire behind Maz's eyes—rage, pain, but potential too. He handed the boy a cloak and offered him a place to stay.
Not a home.
But a school.
A brutal training institution meant for prodigies, mercenaries, and elite soldiers.
Maz didn't ask questions.
He just followed.
If he was going to live with that night etched into his soul…
He needed to become strong enough to never fail again.
The story ended.
But the silence that followed didn't feel like closure. It felt like the kind that lingered in hospital rooms—after bad news, after goodbyes.
Mona stood with her arms folded tight, not in defiance—but in defense. Her eyes didn't meet anyone's.
Maz looked like the memory had stripped him bare. All that bravado he wore in battle... gone. Just a boy again, unsure where he was supposed to stand.
And Shiebe...
He exhaled through his nose, slow. Controlled. He wasn't angry.
Just... disappointed.
Shiebe: "So that's it?"
Neither of them answered.
He stepped forward, not accusatory—just tired.
Shiebe: "You had something most people would kill for. A bond—maybe not perfect—but real. And instead of clinging to that after everything you lost... you let it rot. You tore it apart. Because of him?"
His eyes lifted—burning, but not with hatred. Just quiet hurt.
Shiebe: "That Noble took your comrades. He burned your guild to the ground. And somehow, you both decided the best thing to do... was blame each other?"
Maz shifted uncomfortably. Mona swallowed.
Shiebe: "You were kids. I get that. It wasn't fair. You were too young to see the bigger picture. But look at you now. A year later, still carrying this like it's your own private war."
He turned away from them, gazing up at the pale moon.
Shiebe: "I've met people who lost everything and still held onto the people beside them. Because pain's supposed to bring people together. Not tear them apart."
His voice cracked just a little, but he didn't let it break.
Shiebe: "The world's full of people suffering. You're not special because you hurt. What makes people special is that they keep going anyway... together."
He turned back toward them.
Shiebe: "You could've helped each other heal. You could've leaned on each other. But instead... you made enemies out of the only person who understood."
He shook his head, not bitter—just sad.
He began to walk away.
Shiebe (quietly): "There's a lot of people in this world with nothing. But they still find ways to get through it... together."
And with that, he disappeared through the archway of the garden.
The leaves rustled overhead.
Neither Maz nor Mona moved.
They just stood in the moonlight, surrounded by the ghosts of everything they'd refused to grieve... together.
The night was still. The garden, lit only by the moon's quiet glow, felt impossibly vast. Silent. Like a breath held too long.
Maz stood stiffly, fists clenched at his sides, his back turned.
Mona stood a few paces behind him, unmoving, her shadow stretching across the stone. Her lips trembled, but no words came.
And then—
Mona & Maz (softly, overlapping): "I'm sorry."
The words collided. Tangled. Hung in the air.
Both of them froze.
Maz (blinking, voice cracking): "Did… you just—"
Mona (shaken): "You too?"
A silence settled. And then Maz's shoulders started to shake.
He turned slightly, just enough for Mona to see the glint in his eyes.
Maz (voice low, breaking): "I hated you. For so long, I told myself it was your fault. That if you hadn't hesitated—if you just left me—maybe we would've caught him. Maybe they'd still be alive."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
Maz (gritting his teeth): "But I wasn't angry at you. Not really. I was angry because I couldn't save them. Because I chose that girl… and they still died."
Mona stared, breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook.
Mona (stepping closer, voice trembling): "I told myself you were the selfish one. That you ignored the plan. That you chose strangers over family. But… the truth is…"
Mona: "I didn't know what to do. I was scared. You made a choice, and I… I just followed. Not because I agreed, but because I didn't want to be alone."
She choked on the words, covering her mouth.
Mona (barely audible): "And I left you alone anyway… when it mattered most."
Maz turned fully toward her now, eyes red, lips trembling.
Maz (hoarse): "We could've held onto each other. But we threw each other away instead."
Mona (nodding,):"Because it was easier than remembering their faces."
Maz couldn't hold it back anymore.
His knees hit the ground. A sob tore from his throat, guttural and raw, years of weight collapsing in one breath. His fingers dug into the grass like it was the only thing anchoring him.
Maz (through choked cries): "You were the only family I had left, Mona… the only one who looked at me like I mattered. When they died… when we ran… all I wanted was to go back. But there was nothing left to go back to. Nothing but you."
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears wouldn't stop. His voice broke again—
Maz: "And then I lost you too."
Mona stood there frozen. The words pierced something deep in her chest—a sharp ache that had never dulled. Her throat tightened. Her feet moved on their own.
She knelt beside him.
Without hesitation, her hand gripped his shoulder, firm and trembling.
He looked up. She looked down.
Their eyes met for the first time in a year.
For a full, breathless second, there were no words—just recognition.
Mona (voice cracking): "We're idiots."
She smiled through her tears.
Mona (laughing softly, bitterly): "Stubborn, blind, prideful idiots… blaming each other when all we ever wanted was to not be alone."
Maz gave a shaking laugh through the tears, burying his face in his hands again as she sat beside him, her hand never leaving his shoulder.
Shiebe leaned quietly against the garden wall, arms crossed, listening to the muffled cries and apologies just beyond. His lips curled into a small, wistful smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Shiebe (softly): "Looks like they could do it…"
His gaze turned upward—to the moon, a silver coin hanging in the dark sky, far away and cold, but still present.
I never had anything like that.
When I got sick… they stopped looking at me like I was their son.
They were ashamed of me.
His chest tightened, the old ache resurfacing like a splinter never pulled free.
There were days the Maids forgot to bring food.
I wasn't scared of dying. I was scared that no one would even notice.
He glanced toward Maz and Mona, still huddled in the moonlit garden—raw, imperfect, but finally together.
That's why I'll never let this happen to them. Not while I'm here. If I have to yell, drag, or even punch them back into each other's lives, I'll do it.
Because no one deserves to face this world alone.
Not them. Not again.
He stood there a little longer, quietly watching, the moonlight glinting off the corners of his eyes—dry now, but not empty.
He turned and walked away.
Shiebe walked into his room, the silence almost suffocating. He glanced out the window, a small smile tugging at his lips.
They're not alone anymore.
He sank onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling an unfamiliar weight lift from his chest. Maybe things could be different for them, for once.
Tomorrow will come. But tonight, they had taken the first step.