Seventeen years had slipped by like sand through a broken glass.
South of the Jade Peaks lay the Mist Ridge.
Moonlight glazed the forest in frost-white sheen. Thick trees stood in hushed ranks, their leaves breathing out faint ribbons of mist that drifted like dreams between the branches. Now and then, the thin chirr of insects only deepened the loneliness of the mountain.
"Ah!"
The cry came sharp from a tangle of brush. A girl in green sprang upright, lithe and bright as a woodland sprite.
"What is it?" a boy's voice whispered.
She pushed back her sleeve and glared down at her pale arm. "Mosquitoes. Damn things bit me. There are swarms of them here."
"Sit down, quick. Do you want the mountain spirits to find us?"
A hand tugged her back into cover. The boy beside her had sharp brows and clear, bright eyes. He wore a sleeveless, tight-cut tunic, and several loops of dark crimson chain coiled around his arm like a resting serpent.
"This place isn't fit for people," the girl muttered. "The deal's off. I'm going back." She reached for the strange wave-edged blade lying beside her and began to rise again.
"What? Third Soror, you—you can't go back on your word!"
She arched a brow, eyes flashing. "Pighead Kael, do you take me for that sort? I've been waiting here half the night already. There might not even be any mountain spirits here, let alone your precious fire-wraith."
"There are. There must be." Kael hurriedly insisted. "Reverend Cranewing saw one here himself. He wouldn't lie to me."
"But it's late," she said, rubbing her cheek with exaggerated care. "My eyes are about to close. Staying up ruins a girl's face, you know. I'll look dreadful tomorrow."
Kael clasped his hands in pleading. "Third Soror, I've spent five whole months preparing for tomorrow's grand invention. I only lack one thing—the hair of a fire-wraith. You're the only one among the four sorors who can counter it. Please, you have to help me tonight."
She rolled her eyes. "Flattery won't save you. The First and Second Sorors have faced demon lords and ghost kings—what's a little fire-wraith to them? They're just not on the mountain right now. And I'm easier to trick, that's all. Besides, I never stay up this late. Look at the hour."
Kael clung stubbornly to her sleeve. After a moment's struggle, he grit his teeth. "I'll raise the price. I'll gather you three extra days of GYs."
Her eyes flicked sideways, calculating. She tilted her head, thought long and hard—then slowly raised five slender fingers.
"Five more days."
Kael nearly choked. "Third Soror, that's robbery!"
"Six," she said lightly.
"What?!"
"Take it or leave it." She made to stand.
Flames seemed to ignite behind Kael's eyes. His chest heaved, anger surging like a storm tide—but in the end, it all collapsed into bitter defeat.
"…Fine."
She set her blade down with a satisfied hum, even beginning to sing under her breath. The tune was sweet enough—but to Kael, it set his nerves trembling.
"Strange," she said suddenly, peering at him. "Why aren't the mosquitoes biting you?"
"…."
Kael said nothing, his face full of exaggerated sympathy. Inside, he was grinning like a devil.
*That's the difference between heaven's favor and yours. Bite her harder, brothers. Don't hold back.*
"It must be your hide," she giggled. "Too thick. Or your flesh stinks."
"Yes, yes," he nodded humbly. "That must be it."
Inside, he ground his teeth bloody.
*If I didn't need her Water-Spirit Art to counter the fire-wraith, I'd tie her up with the Ember-Chain tonight… and then—*
His thoughts flickered to a scandalous illustration he'd bought in town not long ago—a bound woman, helpless, exposed—
Heat surged to his face. His pulse hammered.
"Hey," she said suddenly. "Stretch your legs out."
"…Why?"
"Flat." She punched his knee and, without waiting for permission, lay down—resting her head squarely on his thighs. She sighed in comfort and closed her eyes. "Wake me when something shows up. Miss it, and it's your fault. Oh—and shoo the mosquitoes."
Kael fumed, swatting insects with growing irritation, careful not to provoke another round of price-hiking.
Before long, her breathing steadied—soft, even, fragrant as blossoms. She had fallen asleep.
They were both disciples under Lady Magister Isara of the Ascendant Covenant. Selene Voss, third among five disciples, came from noble blood—the daughter of Lord Vossmark himself. Kael, the youngest, had no such pedigree. By Isara's own words, he'd been "picked out of a roadside refuse heap." With no surname to claim, he'd taken hers.
The night mist thickened.
Somewhere, a faint floral scent drifted through the air.
Kael's gaze fell—unbidden—on the gentle rise and fall of Selene's chest. His throat went dry. He studied her face, and for the first time, it struck him—this "wicked soror" who bullied him daily… was dangerously beautiful.
She shifted in her sleep. Her hair brushed across his lap.
Kael stiffened.
A certain part of him reacted—hard, undeniable. Heat rushed to his breath. His hand almost reached forward, trembling toward her chest—
Selene frowned faintly, murmuring half-asleep, "What… what is that poking my neck? Move it…"
Kael nearly died on the spot.
He tried to recall her usual vicious temper—anything to kill the rising tide—but the "tent" beneath her head refused to subside.
Selene suddenly sat up, clutching her neck in annoyance. "What is that? I'm going back to my bed—"
Kael panicked—then froze.
Something moved in the distance.
He raised a finger to his lips.
Selene rubbed her eyes and followed his gaze. A creature passed through the trees—long-limbed, grotesque, vaguely human.
"A mountain ghoul," she whispered.
Kael's excitement flared. "Where there's one, there'll be others. And where they gather… a wraith will follow."
"Do we have to wait?" she muttered. "Couldn't we just take the ghoul's hair?"
"No," Kael said sharply. "It has to be a fire-wraith. My construct needs both fire and earth alignment—ordinary ghoul hair won't do."
She wilted. "At this rate, the mosquitoes will drink me dry."
"Patience," he coaxed. "You'll always have my gratitude."
She snorted. "Just annoy me less, and I'll thank the gods."
"Wait—what's that?"
From the trees emerged something else.
A creature rode a white tiger with hanging jaws. It wore nothing but a wreath of flowers and a crude belt of leaves. Its skin was pale—unnaturally so—and beneath the moonlight, a faint indigo hue shimmered from within.
Selene narrowed her eyes. "That's no ordinary ghoul. Probably a wraith lord."
They held their breath as it drew closer.
Its face was strangely alluring. Full breasts hung heavy against its chest.
Selene whispered, "A mountain wraith. Female."
Kael trembled, staring at its hair. "Third Soror… look at the color…"
"Don't be ridiculous—"
"It's red," he hissed. "Like flame. That's a fire-wraith!"
She blinked—and saw it. Hair like living fire.
"Exactly as Reverend Cranewing described," Kael whispered, almost shaking. "Help me catch it."
He was about to rush forward—
Then more shapes emerged behind it.
Ghouls. Dozens.
Selene grabbed him. "Wait. Let's see how many—"
"We can't!" Kael hissed. "If it gets back into the forest, we're finished!"
He tore free.
And leapt.
"Don't move!" he roared, landing in a dramatic stance. "Kael Ashvane of the Ascendant Covenant stands here to purge evil!"
The fire-wraith froze.
The ghouls surged forward, snarling, shielding their queen.
Kael relaxed slightly. These lesser creatures were nothing.
He struck a heroic pose and smiled gently. "Don't be afraid. I only want a little something. I won't harm you."
Then—
The forest erupted.
Howls. Screeches. A tide of monsters burst forth—hundreds of them, surrounding him in a tightening ring.
Kael's face drained of color.
"Oh… gods…"
He raised his hands carefully. "Misunderstanding. No ill intent at all. I just came here for… for…"
He faltered.
*Why did I come here again?*
From the brush, Selene silently cursed him.
The fire-wraith suddenly laughed—a bright, girlish sound. She spoke, and the horde quieted.
Kael blinked. Hope flared.
"You… understand me?"
She only smiled.
He wiped sweat from his brow. "You must be their queen. Impressive—truly impressive. May I ask your name?"
Silence.
"We're neighbors, you know. I live on Vane's Summit—have you visited?"
Still nothing.
His heart sank.
*She doesn't understand a word…*
Then, an idea struck him.
He leaned in, eyes shining. "My queen… you are breathtaking."
She looked puzzled.
He gestured wildly—cupping his face, giving a thumbs-up. "Beautiful. Very beautiful."
Selene nearly died of secondhand shame.
Kael stepped closer.
The ghouls tensed—but the wraith spoke again, halting them.
He reached her side.
His gaze locked onto her hair.
"So radiant," he whispered. "May I… touch it?"
She didn't resist.
His fingers brushed flame-red strands—silky, impossibly smooth.
His eyes burned.
"So soft…"
The wraith leaned closer, entranced, her head tilting toward his shoulder.
Selene stared in disbelief.
*What in the hells is this?*
Kael's voice softened. "My queen… grant me a small favor. A lock of your hair… as a keepsake of this night…"
Selene shuddered.
*Disgusting…*
"You don't object—I'll take that as yes."
He drew a knife.
Smiling.
Slowly—
The blade touched her hair.
In that instant, her expression changed.
Rage.
She shrieked and snapped her head back.
Kael grabbed a handful and cut—but the hair would not sever.
He poured Vitae into the blade—again—
Nothing.
The wraith struck.
A claw flashed.
Pain tore across his face—then his gut as her knee slammed into him. He flew backward, crashing to the ground.
The horde descended.
Selene cursed—and moved.
In a blur, she appeared above him. Her blade flashed—blue light arcing.
Blood burst.
Ghouls fell.
Kael rolled free, the Ember-Chain snapping out like lightning. He lashed two attackers aside and surged forward again.
The wraith retreated atop her tiger, more ghouls forming a wall before her.
Kael charged, chain whipping, burning flesh and splitting skin.
She leapt—claws blazing with pale white flame.
He dodged—but barely.
"Third Soror! I can't cut it—you do it!"
"No."
"What?!"
"You didn't listen to me. Why should I listen to you?"
Kael nearly screamed.
"Fine! My fault! Everything my fault!"
She snorted—but her anger eased.
"Lead it here."
"It's coming! Its claws carry ghostfire—don't let it touch you!"
She smiled coldly. "Watch closely."
Kael flared his Vitae, chain blazing, drawing the horde's fury.
Selene moved.
The Heavenpool Step.
She appeared beside the wraith like a phantom.
Her blade fell—
The wraith twisted—almost escaped—
Selene flicked her wrist.
A second arc of light flew free from the blade.
Hair scattered like crimson rain.
She seized a lock midair.
"Go!"
They fled—leaping from tree to tree, then down the slope into darkness.
Behind them, the wraith rose, touched her shorn hair—
And screamed.
The forest roared in pursuit.
Kael laughed breathlessly. "Incredible! You didn't even touch her—and still cut it! Amazing!"
Selene stopped suddenly, bracing against a tree, gasping.
"Lucky," she said between breaths. "Water counters fire. Otherwise, that hair wouldn't have cut so easily…"
Kael frowned. "What's wrong?"
"My Vitae's nearly drained. Too many Crystalwave Slashes."
His face went pale. "Then we're dead if they catch us. I'll carry you—"
"Idiot," she snapped. "We barely used Aether. We can still use Earth Escape."
Kael smacked his forehead. "Right!"
"Because you're a pighead," she said sweetly.
They began the incantation.
Moments later, the pursuing horde arrived—just in time to see them vanish into rising dust.
Far below, two trails of drifting earth slipped into the endless night.