The night fell like a curtain over the valley, painting everything in silver and black. Ash couldn't sleep again, though she tried. The glow from the crystal—the strange pulse embedded in her chest—still lingered, almost humming like a living thing.
Ren sat a short distance away, back straight, eyes closed, as if meditating. But Ash knew better. His control was never perfect; he carried too many memories, too many secrets.
She watched him, curiosity getting the better of her. "Ren," she said softly, "do you… ever think about why you're like this? I mean… bound by all those rules, being a sword of heaven… ever wonder if it's fair?"
Ren opened his eyes slowly. The golden glow of the distant moon caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look older and younger at the same time—timeless. "Fair?" he echoed, voice low. "Fair has nothing to do with it. Rules aren't fair. Fate isn't fair. It just… is."
Ash laughed bitterly. "That's convenient." She kicked a small stone, watching it tumble into the shadows. "You act like a saint, but I bet there's a lot you've… left behind. Things you regret."
Ren didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted upward, to the stars just barely visible through the mist. "Long ago… I had someone I couldn't save. Someone I cared for. The heavens punished me for letting emotion cloud my judgment. Since then… I've learned to bury it."
Ash's breath caught. She didn't know what to say. For the first time, the intimidating, untouchable Ren seemed… fragile.
"Why tell me this?" she whispered.
"Because," he said, finally looking at her, "you're not like anyone I've ever known. If I fail to protect you… it won't just be your life at stake."
Ash swallowed. The honesty—the weight behind his words—struck her deeper than any sword ever could. She tried to cover it with humor. "Wow. That's… heavy. I'll try not to die on your watch then, okay?"
Ren's eyes narrowed just slightly. "Do more than try."
Memories of the Past
The wind shifted, carrying whispers of the valley and echoes of battles long past. Ren's voice softened as he spoke of the immortal academy he once trained in—the rigorous drills, the endless tests, and the cruel mentors who punished emotions as if they were crimes.
"I lost friends. I lost… everything I loved," he said quietly. "Each time I let sentiment interfere, the heavens tore me down. Each time I acted purely out of duty, I survived—but I was hollow."
Ash felt a pang of sympathy. She took a step closer, careful not to break the invisible line he always seemed to draw. "So… that's why you're so serious all the time."
Ren's jaw tightened. "Seriousness keeps you alive."
Ash smirked despite herself. "Sure, Mr. Serious. But even swords have edges that can't stay cold forever."
For the first time, Ren's lips twitched in something resembling a smile, fleeting but undeniable. Ash's heart skipped.
A Lesson in Trust
The next day, they moved through a dense forest where spiritual energy warped the trees into twisted shapes. Ash's pulse raced as the ground shook beneath them. Shadows of fiends flickered between trunks, invisible until they were nearly upon her.
"Keep close!" Ren barked, and Ash instinctively obeyed.
She noticed something new—her mark pulsed stronger whenever she and Ren fought side by side. It was almost like the crystal was feeding off their synchronized energy, binding them closer than fate had intended.
"You're fast," she said, ducking under a snapping branch. "I mean… you move like lightning."
Ren's eyes flicked to her, narrow. "Focus. Don't comment on me mid-battle."
Ash grinned, adrenaline pumping. "Oh, so I can't compliment you now? I guess some things never change."
Ren didn't answer, but his hand subtly adjusted, covering her flank without a word. Ash felt a strange warmth, her pulse skipping.
They faced wave after wave of minor fiends, and Ash gradually realized she could trust him in ways she'd never allowed anyone. The moment he deflected an attack meant for her, her heart skipped violently. She tried to hide it with a smirk. "You're ridiculously protective, you know that?"
Ren's gaze was unreadable. "Better alive than dead."
Ash rolled her eyes, but inwardly, she couldn't deny how much that mattered to her.
Foreshadowing Bigger Threats
As the sun dipped behind jagged peaks, casting long shadows across the forest floor, they stumbled upon a hidden clearing. At its center was a pedestal, blackened with scorch marks and etched with faint, glowing runes.
Ash approached cautiously, her fingers brushing the symbols. The moment she touched them, a ripple of energy shot through her, stronger than anything before. Her mark flared, golden light spilling across the ground.
Ren's eyes widened. "This… this is older than anything I've seen. And it's reacting to you."
Ash swallowed. "Great. So apparently I'm now a walking beacon for ancient magic."
Ren's tone was serious. "It's not just magic. Whatever this is… it knows you. Knows us. Be careful."
Ash's pulse quickened. Us. That single word made her heart thump like a drum. Fate wasn't just watching—they were entangled, bound together in ways even the heavens had never fully anticipated.
The clearing was quiet now, but Ash could feel the tension coiling around them like a living thing. Shadows in the distance shifted, and she realized… this trial, this mark, was only the beginning.
Ren's hand rested lightly on his sword. "Whatever comes next… we face it together."
Ash looked at him, pulse racing. "Together… huh? Sounds like I don't get a choice."
Ren's lips twitched faintly. "Choice is overrated."
Ash smirked, shaking her head. "Yeah, well… we'll see about that."