Vale lifted his gaze toward the man seated atop the towering shelves of the library. Ali sat there casually, legs dangling over the edge as if the height meant nothing at all. A strange, knowing smile rested on his lips, one that immediately set Vale on edge.
Instinct stirred before reason could intervene.
Vale's hand drifted toward his weapon, fingers hovering just above the hilt as his eyes remained locked on Ali. Every muscle in his body tightened, his senses sharpening.
'How did he get here?'
Slowly, Vale lowered himself, adjusting his stance with deliberate care. His boots scraped faintly against the stone as he shifted his weight, the ancient floor groaning beneath the pressure. A thin crack spread where his foot pressed hard into the rough surface. He corrected himself, grounding his balance fully.
Once steady, Vale drew in a deep, controlled breath and looked back up.
His pale eyes narrowed, sharp and unyielding eyes that looked as though they were only moments away from striking.
Ali noticed it.
He grinned, clearly amused, and closed his eyes for a brief moment as if savoring the tension hanging between them.
"Did I scare you?" Ali asked lightly.
Vale didn't answer.
'How are you here?'
Ali opened one eye and chuckled softly. "You must be wondering how I'm here, right?"
Vale's eyes widened just slightly. He continued staring, unblinking, measuring every detail of the man above him.
"…Yeah," Vale said at last, his voice low and cautious.
Ali's smile widened. Without another word, he placed his hands on the edge of the shelf and jumped.
Vale's body tensed instantly. His eyes tracked Ali's descent as the man fell through the air, cloak fluttering,
Then, just before Ali should have struck the floor, he vanished.
Gone completely.
Vale spun.
Steel sang as his blade tore free from its scabbard in a wide, instinctive arc. The strike cut cleanly through the air,
and stopped.
The sword's tip hovered mere centimeters from Ali's throat.
Ali stood behind him, unharmed and utterly unconcerned. He leaned forward slightly, peering at the blade as though inspecting craftsmanship rather than facing death. If anything, he looked entertained.
Vale stared at him, breath steady but tight. Up close, he noticed Ali's clothing had changed. Sleek black fabric, sharp lines, oddly fashionable, completely out of place in an ancient library. It looked as though Ali cared more about his appearance than the impossibility of his own presence.
The thought barely had time to settle before Ali tilted his head and casually rested it against the flat of the blade.
"That's odd," Ali murmured, slowly dragging a fingertip along the steel. "I would've expected you to have realized what this was by now."
Vale frowned, shifting his footing slightly as suspicion sharpened his expression.
"What do you mean?"
He shook his head once, cutting the thought off before it could spiral. "No. How did you get here?"
Ali rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Vale's jaw tightened. Without hesitation, he pressed the blade forward.
Steel kissed flesh.
Blood welled instantly, blooming from the mans throat.
Ali whistled, impressed. "Didn't take you for a killer."
"I don't want to be," Vale replied, his eyes narrowing. He paused briefly before continuing, voice firm. "But if you're dangerous, I won't hesitate."
Ali studied him in silence for a long moment.
Then he grinned.
Slowly, deliberately, Ali leaned further into the blade.
Blood spilled freely now, a crimson stream tracing down his neck.
Vale's eyes widened.
'Why would he do that?'
Reacting on pure instinct, Vale yanked the blade back, stepping away to keep Ali from cutting himself further. In that same heartbeat, Ali closed the distance in a blur and pressed a clenched fist firmly against Vale's chest, not a strike, just enough force to make a point.
"Seeee?" Ali said cheerfully. "You aren't a killer after all."
Vale stared at him, stunned. Then he looked down at his blade. A low sigh escaped him as he wiped the steel clean against his leather armor. The blood vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"Just answer the question," Vale said, sliding the sword back into its scabbard. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well? I'm listening."
Ali remained silent for a moment, studying him. Then he chuckled softly.
"Quite the fellow, huh?" Ali said.
Vale tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. "What?"
Ali raised a hand.
Without warning, a large rose bloomed into existence in his palm.
Ali stared at it, momentarily puzzled. "Huh."
Then he looked back at Vale. "Before I answer you… tell me how this smells."
He extended the rose toward him.
Vale leaned back instinctively, staring first at the flower, then at Ali as if questioning his sanity. "What?"
"Well," Ali said innocently, "you asked me something. So I want to ask you something too."
Vale stared at him for a long moment, confusion written plainly across his face. Finally, he let out a deep, resigned sigh and grabbed the rose from Ali's hand.
"Fine."
He leaned in and inhaled.
His eyes widened.
The scent was incredible, warm and fresh. It smelled like spring itself had been captured and bound within a single flower.
"…Woah," Vale muttered, genuinely impressed.
Ali's grin stretched wide, almost triumphant.
"Yeah," he said. "That's what I thought. Just needed to confirm it."
Vale turned toward Ali just as the man lifted the rose once more. With a casual motion, Ali let it slip from his fingers, and it vanished midair, dissolving into nothing as if it had never existed. For a brief moment, Ali looked distinctly pleased with himself, chest slightly puffed out, pride flickering across his face so openly that Vale half-expected his nose to grow longer from it.
But the moment passed.
Ali turned back to him.
Vale stood unmoving, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression flat and thoroughly unimpressed.
"Well?" Vale asked.
Ali hesitated. He rubbed the back of his head, eyes drifting away as a sheepish smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah, well… I just came here," he said lightly. "There really isn't much to it other than that."
Vale stared at him.
'Is he serious?'
A long, tired sigh escaped Vale's lips. "Never mind," he muttered. Then his gaze sharpened, and his voice steadied despite the tension coiling in his chest. "You said you were surprised I pieced it together so quickly. That means you know about the old gods… and the false angels."
The words came out hesitant, almost fragile. He hated that they did.
Ali's expression shifted. The playful ease faded, replaced by something harder to read. He studied Vale for a moment longer than necessary, then gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"I do," Ali said quietly. "Though old gods is only their title, not their name."
Vale tilted his head slightly. His eyes widened just a fraction before narrowing again. His heart picked up speed.
'So there is more.'
"Then what are they called?" Vale asked carefully, wariness etched across his face.
Ali smiled, a deep, knowing smile, and raised a single finger to his lips.
"I can't tell you that," he said softly. "That knowledge is forbidden. And with very good reason."
He glanced around the vast library, eyes drifting over the towering shelves, the ancient stone, the heavy, watchful silence. When he looked back at Vale, his smile had sharpened.
"After all," Ali added, "they're listening."
Vale's eyes narrowed instantly. His arms lowered slightly, one hand already drifting toward his blade. His gaze flicked to Ali's neck, and he froze.
The wound was gone.
Not scarred. Not faded.
Gone completely.
It had healed the moment Vale had withdrawn his blade.
Vale swallowed. Whoever Ali truly was, he was far more than he let on.
A slow, defeated sigh escaped Vale as he straightened again. "Figures," he muttered.
Ali tilted his head, watching him closely. "But," he said lightly, "I do have something else you might like."
Vale raised an eyebrow, suspicion returning full force. "Explain."
Ali's grin returned, smug and theatrical. He closed his eyes and waved his arms around as if presenting a grand prize. "How about the name of that shade you almost died to?"
Vale's eyes widened.
Before he realized what he was doing, he moved. His hand shot out, gripping Ali's shoulder tightly.
"You know his name?!" Vale demanded, his voice louder, more urgent than he'd intended.
A heartbeat passed.
Vale blinked, suddenly aware of his grip. He released Ali at once and stepped back, eyes wide. "Sorry," he said stiffly. "About that."
Ali stared at him, clearly surprised, then chuckled softly. "Oh, no issue. Really."
Then his expression changed.
The humor faded, replaced by something solemn.
"Now," Ali said quietly, "listen carefully."
Vale held his breath.
"Remember this."
Ali paused, letting the silence stretch, letting the tension coil tight in Vale's chest.
"His name is Lionheart."
The word struck like a bell.
Ali smiled faintly as he continued, his voice calm and deliberate. "Leo. Lionheart."