Fire.
Sinhara felt as if he were being burned alive. But it was not the fire of an alchemical furnace; it was a frantic heat born of friction—wet, tight, and overwhelming.
In his delirium, he found himself back in that ruined sanctuary. Rain drummed against the shattered dome, but instead of water, what dripped onto his face was the salty sweat of the man looming over him.
"Eric..."
Sin whispered the name unconsciously, the call breaking in his dry throat.
He saw the Silver Knight's deep blue eyes looking down at him. They were no longer cold or arrogant; they were burning with a wild, possessive fire. Eric's armored fingers squeezed Sin's wrists, pinning him to the cold stone floor, while his body thrust forward with a force that tore through every wall of Sin's logic.
Pain. Pleasure. A sweet humiliation.
Sin wanted to push him away, but his hands instinctively clawed at those broad shoulders. He felt every cord of muscle beneath Eric's burning skin. The knight's breath fanned against his ear, as hot as high-pressure steam:
"You cannot run. You have been marked."
Eric leaned down, his sharp teeth sinking into the hollow of Sin's neck.
"Aaaaa!"
Sin jerked awake, his eyes snapping open.
The reality that hit him was harsh. There was no sanctuary. There was no Eric. There was only the rotting wooden ceiling of a violently swaying carriage and the sound of pouring rain outside. The ache in his throat and his sore body reminded him that he was alive, though he was suffering from a high fever.
A cool hand was placed on his forehead.
Sin turned his head. Sitting beside him in the cramped carriage was a dark-skinned youth, bare-chested, wearing a silver collar engraved with ancient runes. The boy had a clever face, but his eyes were the bright gold of a predator. On top of his head, amidst messy black hair, two cat ears twitched in response to the thunder outside.
Celles.
Sin's beast-kin companion withdrew his hand, picked up a wet cloth, and carefully wiped the sweat from Sin's temples. Celles did not speak—he could not speak the human tongue—but his long black tail flicked back and forth anxiously.
"How long... have I been asleep?" Sin asked, his voice hoarse.
Celles held up three fingers. Three hours.
The boy frowned, his ears dropping, and let out a low, scolding growl from his throat. He firmly pressed a goatskin water bag into Sin's hands, forcing him to drink.
Sin gave a weak smile and took a long gulp. The cool water soothed his burning throat and cleared his mind slightly.
THUMP!
A wheel hit a large pothole. The entire carriage tilted as if it were about to flip. Sin's head hit the wooden wall, but Celles was lightning-fast, using his own body as a cushion to catch him.
"Damn this mud-caked, godforsaken road!"
A vulgar curse drifted in from the driver's seat. The leather curtain was torn aside. A soaking wet, bearded head poked in.
Ardyn—the former General of Aurelion—now looked like nothing more than a grizzly, rough woodsman.
"You're awake, pretty boy?" Ardyn grunted, glancing at Sin. "I thought you were dead. I was just calculating where to dig the hole to save myself the effort."
"Thank you for your warm concern, General," Sin replied weakly, leaning back against the wall. "Where are we?"
"The Iron Forest. The rain has turned the road into a pile of horse dung," Ardyn spat out the window. "The horses are nearly exhausted. We're about half a day's journey from Elystria. That is, if your fragile body can handle it."
Sin nodded, fighting back the nausea from the bumpy ride. He reached into his breast pocket. The Mirrakyn Stone was still there, silent and cold. But he knew that if he let his guard down, it would signal to all those who were greedy for it.
"Why Elystria?" Ardyn called back, his voice softening slightly despite his rough tone. "Why not hide in the North? Why stick your head into that den of thieves, whores, and liars?"
Sin spread a parchment map over his knees, pointing to a black dot by the sea.
"Because it is chaotic, Ardyn. Valerius can use magic to track the stone based on mana spikes. But Elystria is a melting pot. There are too many conflicting mana signatures there: from smuggled artifacts and exiled mages to enchanted gambling dens. The Mirrakyn's signal will be lost in the noise."
"The most dangerous place is the safest?" Ardyn snorted. "You're playing with fire, kid. The Lord of that city is an old fox even greedier than the Emperor."
"We have no choice," Sin sighed, his headache throbbing again. "And I need money. A lot of money to buy materials for a stone-suppressing potion."
Suddenly, Celles sat bolt upright, his cat ears standing tall. The fur on the back of his neck bristled. He let out a sharp hiss and lunged toward the carriage door.
"Trouble!" Ardyn barked.
He jerked the reins. The carriage braked hard, the wheels sliding through the thick mud before coming to a stop. Blocking the path ahead was a massive oak tree that had clearly just been cut down.
From the bushes on both sides, four muscular men stepped out. They wore tattered fur armor and held axes and crossbows. Low-level highwaymen—the kind of vultures that haunted the borders of the Iron Forest.
"Get out!" the leader shouted, pointing his crossbow at Ardyn. "Leave the horses and the goods, and I'll let your old hide live."
Ardyn narrowed his one good eye. He smirked, a cruel smile appearing under his beard.
"It's been a while since I've had some exercise," Ardyn muttered, reaching behind his back to grip the hilt of a massive sword wrapped in burlap. "I'm going to turn you into fertilizer."
Tap. Tap.
A light knock came from inside the carriage.
Ardyn froze. It was Sin's signal. No killing. No noise.
Ardyn clicked his tongue and let go of his sword. He raised his hands in the air, pretending to be terrified as he stepped down from the carriage.
"Easy, easy, gentlemen. I'm just a poor hired driver..."
While Ardyn distracted them, a small black shadow quietly slithered out from under the carriage, blending into the rain and darkness. It was a jet-black cat with glowing gold eyes.
Celles moved soundlessly over the dead leaves. He circled behind the leader holding the crossbow. Just as the bandit stepped closer to Ardyn, the black cat lunged.
SNAP!
Celles's razor-sharp claws sank into the leader's wrist, tearing through the tendons.
"Aaaaaagh!"
The bandit screamed, dropping his crossbow. But before his scream could finish, it was cut short by a blow like a falling hammer. Ardyn lunged forward. Using a fist the size of a mallet, he punched the bandit squarely in the throat, sending him to the ground choking and foaming at the mouth.
The other three rushed in, panicked.
"Meowwww!"
Celles—still in cat form—leaped onto the second man's face, scratching wildly at his eyes. The man dropped his axe, howling in pain. The third bandit tried to swing his sword at the cat, but Ardyn grabbed him by the collar, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him against the fallen tree. The sound of breaking ribs echoed through the woods.
The last bandit saw this, turned pale, dropped his weapon, and fled into the deep forest.
Ardyn started to chase him, but the sound of Sin's dry coughing from the carriage stopped him.
"Let him go," Sin's voice drifted out. "Move out. The scent of blood will draw the ghost wolves."
Ardyn grunted, kicking the unconscious bandit: "Consider yourself lucky, brat."
He cleared the scene quickly, dragging the tree aside with incredible strength, and jumped back onto the carriage. Celles, now back in his human-boy form, slipped into the cabin. A bit of the bandit's blood was still on the corner of his mouth.
Celles licked the blood away and looked at Sin. He suddenly paused. His sharp nose sniffed the air, moving closer to the hollow of Sin's neck. Celles's golden eyes narrowed. He smelled it. The scent of musk, cold iron, and the arousal of a stranger still lingered on his master's skin, right where the faint bite mark remained.
Grrrrr...
Celles let out a low growl, his hair bristling. He looked at Sin with eyes full of both jealousy and anger, pointing at the bite mark as if to ask: "Who?"
Sin leaned his tired head against the wall, gently stroking Celles's messy hair.
"Just an occupational hazard, Celles," Sin lied, though his cheeks flushed slightly. "Don't be jealous of the past. Sleep now; we're almost there."
Celles huffed, wrapping his tail tightly around Sin's leg as if to mark his territory, then curled up at his feet.
The carriage continued through the rain. A few hours later, before dawn could even break, the carriage stopped at the top of Lookout Hill. Ardyn pulled back the window curtain. The salty sea breeze rushed in, waking Sin.
"Look at that," Ardyn said, unable to hide his awe. "The greatest den of sin on earth."
Below the valley, at the edge of the dark sea, the city of Elystria appeared, shining like a spilled treasure chest. Tens of thousands of whale-oil lamps lit up the bay, creating a sea of golden light against the darkness of the Iron Forest. Tall towers with bizarre architecture, a web of suspension bridges, and a harbor bustling with ships day and night.
The noise of the city, the music, and the shouting drifted up to the hill, mixing with the roar of the waves.
Sin looked down at that brilliant, corrupt city. He knew Eric would come here. A strong instinct told him that their next meeting would not be in the shadows of a lonely church, but under the blinding lights of this deadly stage.
"Ardyn, hide the sword. Celles, hide the tail," Sin said, his gaze becoming sharp and calculating. "We need to blend into this giant circus."
Ardyn cracked the whip. The carriage sped down the hill, heading toward the light.