SAI SHINU
The morning air was crisp, colder than it had any right to be, and each breath I took burned with the weight of what was coming. The village was already stirring, though no one dared come too close. I could feel their eyes on me—sharp, suspicious, heavy. I had grown used to stares like that.
The chariot waited by the gate, its wood polished to a dull sheen, the two black horses harnessed to it stamping their hooves impatiently. Their breaths spilled out in pale clouds against the dawn light. The sound of their hooves against the earth echoed faintly in the silence that hung between the villagers and us.
Namae walked beside me, her hand brushing mine now and then, though neither of us said a word. The child clung to her free hand, still half-asleep, unaware of the storm circling around us. I forced myself to keep my stride steady, calm—though inside, every instinct screamed at me to stay on guard.
I glanced at the soldiers posted near the gate. Their faces were stone, but their silence betrayed more than words ever could. I knew what awaited us the moment we left the safety of these walls. Namae's father's betrayal replayed in my mind like a curse. The rings. The ambush. The chimeras. He hadn't even bothered to hide it—his plan was as crude as it was cruel.
My fingers brushed the inside of my cloak where the ring I had taken from her master rested against my skin. A silent reassurance. My card to play when the knives came out from the shadows.
I climbed onto the chariot first, offering a hand to Namae as she lifted the child up. For a brief second, when her eyes met mine, I saw her doubt flicker there, her fear of what her father had set in motion. I tightened my grip on her hand, steady, firm.
"I told you," I whispered just for her. "We're leaving. All three of us. No matter what."
She said nothing, but the way she nodded was enough.
The horses jolted forward as the driver snapped the reins, and the chariot creaked into motion. The gates opened with a slow groan of iron and wood, and I felt the eyes of the entire village bore into my back as we passed through.
Leaving. Finally leaving.
But I knew better than to relax. Two kilometers. That was all the distance we'd get before the wolves showed their teeth.
And when they did, I would be ready.
The ride felt endless, every bump of the road rattling through the wheels of the chariot like the beat of a war drum. I kept my hand tight on the ring hidden beneath my cloak, its cold metal biting into my skin. Every sound—the crack of a branch, the flap of wings, even the horses' hooves—made me sharpen my focus. Two kilometers. The number etched itself into my mind like a curse.
Then I heard it. A sound too deliberate, too heavy to belong to the forest. The chariot jolted, and the driver yanked the reins, forcing the horses to a halt. Dust billowed into the air, curling through the morning light.
I was already moving.
"Namae," I said firmly, turning to her. "Take the child and keep going. Don't look back. I'll find you."
Her eyes widened, her lips parted as if to protest, but the weight of my tone silenced her. She nodded once, clutching the child close as the driver urged the horses onward.
I stepped down onto the dirt road. The world seemed to still.
From ahead, another chariot rolled into view. Two soldiers. Both of them leapt down, their armor clanking, and without hesitation, they raised their hands. The rings on their fingers glowed blood-red.
The air trembled, then ripped open.
Chimeras spilled forth—fangs, claws, wings, scales—a flood of monstrosities screaming into the daylight. The ground shook beneath the sudden stampede, their howls shattering the silence of the trees.
I didn't move at first. I breathed, steady, calm. Then I whispered:
"Astral Gate… Act Two."