To My Esteemed Friend,
I write to you not in idle gossip, but with a warning. There are whispers in the alleys, murmurs in the courts, and frightened glances traded behind closed doors. I am certain you have heard the rumors—a secret order, a nameless faction that moves like a shadow before disaster strikes. You may have dismissed them as tavern tales, as I once did. But I tell you now, this is no mere superstition.
They have been seen. Always the same—dark garb, black masks concealing their faces. They are not soldiers, nor common assassins. Witnesses describe them as specters, appearing before moments of great calamity. A noble's deathbed confession of treason, a fire consuming an entire estate, a high magistrate found slain in his own chambers—each time, someone glimpses the black mask before the chaos begins.
Coincidence? Perhaps. But too many coincidences weave a pattern.
I do not know who they are, nor their purpose, but I urge you—stay vigilant. Watch the crowds, the streets, the darkened corners of every hall. If you see one, do not linger. Do not ask questions. Whatever hand moves them, whatever cause they serve, it is beyond our grasp.
And if you hear the rumors growing louder… it may already be too late.
Stay safe.
Yours in caution,
Calgary Depton
The streets of Brelith stretched before them, awash in a glow that teetered on excess. Lanterns lined the roads, their light driving away even the faintest shadow, while sconces burned along every building façade. The brightness felt forced, as though the city itself feared the dark.
Kai shifted in his borrowed attire, an outfit nearly identical to Oro's—fine, but not ostentatious. It was tight in all the wrong places, the collar stiff against his neck, the sleeves pulling at his shoulders. He had endured worse, of course, but it still felt unnatural. At least it wasn't baggy like the oversized clothes he had been given in Limdal.
Oro, as carefree as ever, led the way through the wide streets of the merchant quarter, talking as he always did—at length, and with no expectation of response."I mentioned that Brelith is the breadbasket of Bellacia, didn't I? The grain they cultivate in this region is remarkably resilient—they grow it all year round. Can you believe that?"
Kai listened but didn't respond as he looked around the city. He felt out of place in the heavy atmosphere, unnerved by the silence of streets that should have been bustling. There were too many people missing for such a large city, at least compared to Aldinia. They passed another set of guards as they rounded a bend in the street. Was this much security necessary? The coronation ball was meant to be a celebration, yet the city itself seemed to bristle with unease.
Still, he walked beside Oro, letting the nobleman's words drift over him, while he scanned the streets.
The Leveque keep loomed ahead, its towering stone walls bathed in a cold, ethereal glow. The massive gates stood open, flanked by imposing braziers whose flames burned not in hues of orange or red, but shifting shades of azure. The eerie light cast long, twisting shadows across the entryway, and for a moment, Kai's steps slowed.
Oro noticed the change in his pace and chuckled. "Ah, those are thaumic braziers," Oro said knowingly. "They function quite differently from your average lanterns and bulbs. You see, rather than relying on—"
Kai had already begun tuning him out. He let Oro prattle on as they passed under the gates and into the courtyard, his attention drawn instead to the crowd within. Guards lined the perimeter, standing rigid and watchful, while nobles moved in clusters, their laughter and conversation forming a constant murmur. With every step, the truth of how out of place he was became harder to ignore. It had been one thing to walk the streets of Brelith dressed like Oro, but here, surrounded by those born into wealth and status, every gaze felt like a weight pressing down on him. He forced himself to focus, to keep his movements measured, but he still felt clumsy compared to the grace of those around him.
As they crossed the courtyard, a servant approached with a tray holding a selection of masks. Kai followed Oro's lead and grabbed one. Oro turned his over in his hands, inspecting it with mild amusement. It was a pale mask with two curved tusks. "A boar? Really?" Oro scoffed, adjusting his cuffs with feigned disappointment. "Had I known this was a masked ball, I would have brought one from home—something with a bit more charm."
Kai lifted his own mask, its surface darker than Oro's, shaped with a long, curved beak. A bird—no, a crow. He stared at it for a moment, his thoughts drifting to the lone crow that had followed him from Limdal to Aldinia. He wondered where it had gone after he boarded the train, if it had simply moved on or if—somehow—it was still waiting for him.
Kai and Oro stepped through the massive gates into the Leveque keep, and soon the sound of music reached their ears—a soft, intricate melody that resonated like nothing Kai had ever heard before. The notes, delicate yet resonant, flowed like water over smooth stones. Though he could not name the instruments that produced such a tune.
The music seemed to ease the harshness of the surroundings. With his mask securely in place, Kai felt a subtle shift inside him—a miniscule measure of comfort amidst the well-dressed nobles and vigilant guards. The melodic, unfamiliar sounds made him forget, if only for a moment, that he was an outsider in a world of pristine grandeur.
Together, they ascended a sweeping set of stairs and proceeded down an ornate hallway. The polished marble and gilded accents reflected the soft glow of sconces, lending an air of majesty to the passage. The closer they came to the source of the music, the more the atmosphere pulsed with anticipation.
At last, they entered the grand ballroom—a scene of unparalleled brilliance. Lavish banquet tables, overflowing with sumptuous fare, were arranged in intricate patterns beneath a canopy of shimmering crystal chandeliers. Patrons in extravagant attire moved through the space, their laughter and whispered conversations blending with the enchanting strains that seemed to emanate from every corner of the room.
At the far end of the hall, a stage commanded the room. There various musical instruments played on their own, magically suspended in mid-air. The symphony weaving an ever-changing tapestry of sound, captivating the audience with its surreal elegance.
Oro leaned in toward Kai as they stepped into the ballroom, his voice low over the gentle harmony of the music. "You should try to relax tonight, Kai. Let yourself enjoy the festivities. I'll be around should you find yourself in a scrape—but do not expect me to coddle you all evening. After all, I do have a wife to find. For now, let us take a moment to observe, to find our place before we step into the fray."
Kai's eyes widened slightly at the remark, and he tilted his head. "What do you mean by 'find our place'?"
Oro gave a knowing smile as he glanced around at the glittering clusters of nobles. "Not all nobles are alike, my friend," he mused, casting a glance over the gathered guests. "They form cliques—families of influence, circles of power. One must tread carefully, lest they align with the wrong faction and draw undue ire. Some of these people are as cutthroat as they come, nowhere near as... nonchalant as myself."
Kai nodded slowly, absorbing the advice, "So, I should try to mingle, but with my eyes open?"
"Exactly," Oro replied. "Mingle, have a bit of fun. But remember—keep your wits about you. Tonight, enjoy yourself. Tomorrow, you can worry about the consequences."
With that, Oro guided Kai further into the throng, both of them stepping into the intricate dance of conversation and subtle maneuvering that defined noble society.
Oro continued his running commentary, plucking names and titles from the air as he pointed out various nobles. "That's Lord Edmond Varn—a miser, but shrewd in matters of trade. Over there, Lady Celeste Fournier, proprietor of nearly half the vineyards in western Bellacia. And that man lingering by the wine table? Baron Aldia… No one quite knows what he does, yet he's always invited to these affairs. I can only assume that makes him important."
Kai half-listened, letting Oro's words drift over him while his attention remained on the dancers. The single-person dances were simple, just a few movements repeated in rhythm. It made sense, in a way—so long as one knew the steps, there wasn't much room for error. But when the dance shifted to paired movements, that was another matter entirely. The noblemen and noblewomen glided across the floor, their motions smooth, their coordination effortless.
Kai's brow furrowed as he tried to decipher the unspoken rules of the paired dance. The steps were no longer uniform; each couple seemed to have their own rhythm, their own flourishes. Was it rehearsed beforehand? Or was it something understood instinctively between partners?
Then, the thought struck him—dancing this close to a noblewoman, hand in hand, body poised mere inches away. His face grew hot, and he quickly looked away, focusing instead on the extravagant chandeliers above. Hopefully, Oro was too absorbed in his own musings to notice his sudden embarrassment. Thankfully, the mask offered a modicum of cover.
Oro's musings drew Kai's attention away from his flushed embarrassment. The noble's voice, rich with a mix of exasperation and annoyance, carried over the din of the ballroom. "Where, pray tell, is Hammond Léveque?" Oro said, his gaze sweeping across the assembled guests. "This is his gathering, after all. One would think he'd at least make an appearance, if only to deliver some grand address. Does he fancy that history itself will pause and wait upon his leisure?"
Kai couldn't help but smirk at the sight—Oro, usually so composed,tended to get quite animated when it came to history. The young noble's passion for the past was a bit over the top at times.
Before Kai could reply, a warm hand intertwined with his, catching him off guard. In an instant, he was being spirited away toward the dance floor at a brisk pace. Bewilderment flashed across his features as he tried to adjust, his mind a jumble of lingering questions about noble etiquette.
"Best of luck—and do mind her toes!" Oro quipped after him with a smirk. "I'll be joining the festivities myself soon enough."
Kai barely managed to glance back at Oro before he was whisked away, his feet struggling to keep up with the firm pull of his graceful dance partner. He looked at her from behind, taking in the way her long, flowing black hair cascaded down her back, swaying with every step. Her violet dress shimmered under the glow of the chandeliers, the fabric catching the light in a way that made it look almost ethereal. A faint, pleasant fragrance—something floral, yet deep and intoxicating—wafted from her, wrapping around his senses like an invisible veil.
His face grew warm again. He was about to dance with her? A woman like this? He tried to stammer out a protest, his nerves getting the better of him. "I—I don't really know how to dance. I'm probably not—"
She turned.
The words died in his throat, strangled by the sheer force of recognition. His breath hitched, and every fiber of his being went rigid.
The masked woman.
The one who had killed him.
That mask and her violet eyes, as familiar as a nightmare, stared back at him, framed by the ballroom's golden glow. His pulse thundered in his ears, and the music, the chatter, the grand revelry around him, all of it faded into a distant hum.
The abyss. The freezing, suffocating darkness. The endless drowning.
His chest tightened, panic constricting around his ribs like a vice. He could almost feel the water filling his lungs again, dragging him down, down into nothingness. His fingers trembled against hers, and his mind screamed at him to move, to run, to do anything but stand there frozen in terror.
But he couldn't. He was back in that moment. And he didn't know if he'd ever truly escaped it.
"Ah," she said, tilting her head slightly, obsidian hair shifting slightly on her shoulders. "Lost your nerve, darling?"
Her voice was pleasant, smooth, almost playful—but there was no mistaking it. He had heard that voice before, though it had carried none of the warmth it feigned now.
It was her, he was certain of it.
Her red lips curled sweetly, but her eyes—icy, piercing—stared right through him.
Kai swallowed, trying to shove down the panic clawing at his throat. Why was she here? Why pick him? Did she recognize him? Was she toying with him? Or was this some cruel coincidence?
He grasped for some semblance of calmness, forcing himself to speak. "Kai." The name came stiff, automatic. He gave no last name.
"Aiko," she said, her smile widening ever so slightly. "A pleasure, Kai."
The name sent a jolt through him. Aiko. He had heard it before. His breath came uneven, mind shifting between the memory and the present.
Her fingers curled around his, delicate yet unwavering, leading him into the dance as if nothing was wrong—as if she were just another noblewoman enjoying the festivities. But he knew better.
She was a killer.
Kai struggled to keep his breathing stable, to act natural, to not let the sheer terror rattling inside him show. If she recognized him—if she remembered—then what was she planning? Another knife in the ribs? A public spectacle? Or was she merely toying with him before finishing what she started?
She led him into the first steps of the dance. The music swelled, a grand composition of instruments, he felt as if he were caught in a current beyond his control.
Aiko's expression was unreadable, poised yet teasing, as she studied his face. "Relax, darling. No need to look so terrified." she said, voice like silk. "You look like you've seen a ghost. How quaint."
Kai cleared his throat, trying to push the rising tide of panic down into something manageable. He gave a quick, apologetic smile, attempting to mask his unease, and mimicked Aiko's movements as best he could, matching her steps awkwardly.
He didn't want to look like a fool, especially in front of her. He couldn't let his fear show—he had to act as normal as possible.
His mind kept replaying the moment of his death, that cold steel, the suffocating inky water. But he forced it away. She couldn't possibly recognize him now. He had changed. His hair was white, his face was covered. Two months had passed. Surely, she thought him dead. She was the one who had killed him.
His heartbeat calmed as he reassured himself. She doesn't know. She can't.
But even as he calmed himself internally, he couldn't ignore the tension still building between them. The distance between them had closed as they danced, and now, with each twirl and step, Aiko guided him closer. She moved with a natural litheness, pulling him in until there were mere inches between their bodies. The scent of her— sweet and delicate—flooded his senses, mingling with the music that surrounded them.
Her eyes locked onto his, unblinking, her smile now more pronounced, stretching across her lips like a crescent moon. It was an alluring, dangerous smile.
For a brief moment, Kai found himself mesmerized. His chest tightened, and his body faltered slightly as he felt her pull him further into her orbit. The warmth of her body was almost intoxicating, and the gentle sway of their dance felt less like a threat and more like a strange, seductive rhythm.
But no. No, he couldn't let himself get lost in it. She's a murderer, he reminded himself. She had killed him once, and he couldn't afford to forget that. Not now, not ever.
His smile was strained as he forced himself to keep his distance in his mind, even if his body surrendered to the rhythm of the dance.
As they twirled again, Aiko's eyes returned to his, a playful glint dancing within them, and a sense of unease gnawed at him. It was clear she was enjoying this—enjoying him—in a way he couldn't quite understand.
But the moment was fleeting. As soon as he could, he'd slip away, find an excuse, make his escape. Until then, he kept his movements steady, trying to maintain composure.
As the song began to wind down, and the music grew quieter, Kai felt the inevitable call of escape growing louder. He was poised to step away, an excuse forming on his lips. When, Aiko's arms enveloped him in a sudden, warm embrace. Her body pressed up against his, and her cheek brushed against his with an unsettling closeness. He could feel the delicate warmth of her breath against his ear.
"You have lovely eyes," she whispered, the words lingering in the air like a soft caress.
Kai's mind froze as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He recognized the phrase, the familiarity of it cutting through him like a blade. He had heard those words before.
Before he could gather his thoughts, Aiko's voice washed over him again, smooth and sweet, yet laced with an ominous edge.
"It's rare for me to find a dance partner that lasts more than one session."
She had recognized him.
Why was she here? The question burned through him. The woman who had murdered him stood so close,that he could feel her heartbeat syncing with his own.
What should he do? What did she plan to do? Kai's thoughts crashed against each other, a cacophony of confusion and terror. He wanted to push her away, to run, to tear himself free from her grasp, but at that moment he was petrified.
Her breath lingered between them, warm and dangerous, as she drew back slightly, her gaze locking onto his. A shimmer of muted amusement danced in her eyes, a silent recognition of the twisted game she reveled in.
A tremor rippled through the keep, shaking the chandelier overhead and sending a shudder through the grand ballroom floor. Gasps and startled cries filled the air as nobles stumbled, hands grasping at gilded railings and polished banisters to keep themselves from tumbling over. The reverberation lasted but a breath before an earsplitting explosion split the night.
Then another.
And another.
Each blast roared from a different direction, distant but unmistakably violent. Even through the thick walls of the keep, Kai could hear the city screaming. The ground trembled with each detonation, a cacophony of destruction erupting from all sides. But then—closer. The next explosion rattled the very foundations of the noble district, sending a deep, gut-punching shockwave through the keep itself.
The ballroom descended into hysteria. The nobles, once so poised and composed, turned into panicked animals, breaking away from their dances and conversations to scramble toward their personal guards. Cries of confusion and terror rang out.
Kai barely had time to process it all. Was the city under attack? His mind spun as he tried to piece together what was happening.
And then—Aiko.
She pulled away, her movements a dance in itself through the mayhem, her violet dress a blur as she sprinted toward a set of stairs tucked away in the corner of the room.
Kai didn't hesitate.
Whatever was happening, she had to be involved. He had no doubt about that. And if she was, then she was the key to understanding what was unfolding in the city.
His feet moved before his mind caught up, weaving through the chaos with singular focus. The thought of facing Aiko again in combat created a sense of trepidation within him.
And yet, deep in his chest, a single thought stirred.
Why should I fear death?
Lazarus had deigned him worthy of resurrection once. Why? Had he been chosen for something greater? If that was true, then he wouldn't find answers by cowering in fear, nor would he uncover the truth by standing still while the world erupted around him.
With that thought, Kai steeled himself and sprinted after Aiko, chasing the specter of his past straight into the unknown. She was the key to many questions left unanswered. He had to face her again.