The carriage rocked softly beneath starry skies. Midnight wrapped the world in silence, save for the soft creaking of wheels on ground. Miharu had long since dozed, cramped in her seat, gently snoring. Izumi sat across from her, crossed arms, unmoving. His eyes drifted over to her from time to time—then back to the window, where only the moon illuminated anything.
The carriage came to a halt.
Izumi blinked. He peered over the side, then hesitated. He opened the door, drawing out slowly, not to wake Miharu.
A tiny village lay below him. It was quiet—lamps flickering down its single dusty street. Villagers peered out of windows, whispering behind closed doors. The only one who did not seem tense was the shopkeeper, arms crossed beside a small stall.
"Traveler essentials?" the man inquired.
Izumi nodded.
The shopkeeper handed him a cloth bag without another word. "Ten yaals."
Izumi offered a small pouch of gold coins and took the bag silently. As he turned to leave, the man squinted at him.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Izumi didn't answer. He walked back to the carriage and stepped inside, sitting across from Miharu. She was still fast asleep.
He stared out the window.
"How am I supposed to tell her," he growled, low voice, "that Nymrathis was the weakest Monarch of Sin."
His eyes began to drift shut.
Morning came slowly.
Izumi stirred awake to the sound of muffled laughter. Miharu was sitting opposite him, arms folded behind her head, grinning.
"Something funny, Kobayashi?" he mumbled, deadpan tone, drowsy voice.
She tensed. "Nothing!"
A small piece of paper slipped off his forehead and onto his lap. It read: Idiot.
He gazed at her, face unchanging. "If that's your sense of humor, I feel sorry for you."
Her smirk dropped instantly.
She kept quiet for what felt like ages before Miharu finally said, "Oh yeah… how did you use that shadowy thing on Nymrathis?"
Izumi gazed at her. "The what?"
"That black thing you used," she waved her arms. "You know! Like shadows or something!"
"Yin," he said.
She lit up. "Yeah! That! How did you do that?
Izumi didn't respond at first.
Izumi's eyes flickered. "You don't even know what a Soul Conduit is, and you are marked?"
"Am I supposed to?"
"I learned it when I was six," he answered her bluntly. "You're sixteen and still can't find yours?"
She leaned forward, begging him for a response.
Three full minutes of back-and-forth later, Izumi let out a sigh. "Okay. When I look at a grassy field."
"Huh? Why a grassy field?"
".Don't know. They calm me down."
Two hours passed.
As the carriage came to a stop before a vast, open field of pale green, Miharu leapt out the door. Izumi followed, drawing a blade.
"Hands up," he said.
"W-What is this fo—"
He ever so lightly touched the tip of the blade to her lower abdomen.
Miharu collapsed, gasping in pain.
"Did that hurt?" Izumi asked nonchalantly.
"W-What does it look like, asshole?!"
"Mhm. That's your Soul Conduit."
She continued to convulse on the ground. "Why's that so important?!"
"You need it to use your power."
"Thanks," she groaned. "Very specific."
Izumi stood over her. "Now imagine opening it. Let it go to your heart."
She did.
There was a blinding flash of fire that erupted in her hands. Miharu screamed.
"GET IT OFF—GET IT OFF—!"
"Stop. It's from your Soul Conduit. It won't hurt you."
Her fear disappeared and was replaced by awe.
".Whoa. That's cool."
She motioned with her hand. "How do I get it to stop?"
"Close the hole."
The flame vanished immediately.
"Your soul conduit thing is Yin, isn't it?" she inquired. "Why does it catch on fire?"
"Yin absorbs heat. I thin it out so it will burn more easily."
"For Sloth, you're really smart."
"And for Diligence," he retorted, "you're really weak."
She glared at him. "Watch your tongue."
"Mhm."
And then she stiffened, regarding him inquiringly. "So. was that the way you saved yourself from the stab? When Nymrathis stabbed you with the shard?"
Izumi's body stiffened. His hand curled.
Miharu continued. "You were bleeding. Through the entire middle of your chest. How did you—"
"I thugged it out," he replied. "Did not scream. Did not cry. Just got up and threw hands."
Miharu stared at him, his eyes wide open. Obviously, he had been impressed.
"Damn. I thought you were just some cold bastard."
"Yeah, still am," he said.
And then he sat in silence. Miharu stared at him, cautiously again.
"So, uh. that whole 'Virasat' thing—"
Izumi stiffened right away. His jaw clenched.
"I don't go by Virasat."
Miharu blinked. "I just thought—"
"You thought wrong."
He spun around and pushed back into the carriage.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Miharu stood there, alone and mouth slightly ajar, in the field.
"…Alright then," she grumbled. "Sensitive topic."