Strands Of Identity
Back to the present.
Exactly, show her no mercy. You got this, Vyan resolved to himself after being distracted by his momentary weakness.
Everyone gets distracted by shiny things once in a while, he reasoned.
Meanwhile, lying on the ground, Iyana was busy figuring out the golem's weak point.
Once she did, she leaped into the air, somersaulted, and sliced off its head with the flair of a ninja. This time, instead of the golem pulling a Terminator and reassembling, it graciously went up in smoke.
Poof! Good riddance.
Without missing a beat or bothering to wipe off the blood trickling down her forehead, Iyana made a flash step toward Vyan.
She hoped he would be a bit drained from his recent magical fireworks display, but she only managed to cut a piece of his robe before sensing an array of stones flying at her from behind.
Being alert as always, Iyana brandished her sword so fast it practically turned invisible, slicing every single rock with the precision of a sushi chef on drugs.
"If that's all you got, you are never going to kill me," Iyana proclaimed, not even breaking out a sweat.
"Killing you is not my intention, anyway," Vyan asserted, having moved away from her taking the diversion of stones, but his red robe had slid off of his shoulders in the midst of it.
"Not tonight, at least," he added with a little smirk.
With a flourish, he summoned a swirling tempest of ice, unleashing it upon Iyana and turning the ground beneath her feet into a skating rink.
She struggled to move as the ice crept up her boots like it had a personal vendetta against her.
Seeing his chance, Vyan started to prepare for teleportation, ready to make a dramatic exit.
Iyana knew she had to act quickly. With a surge of inner strength, she shattered the ice, her armored boots cracking through by spilling a little blood.
"Stop right there!" she shouted.
"Sorry, no can do. You are a worthy adversary, but I have to go back to my master," Vyan said, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Farewell, Vice-Commander."
"No, I won't let you go!" She lunged at him, but of course, it was too late.
Her fingers swiped through empty air as his body vanished into the unknown, leaving behind nothing but frustration and a faint whiff of smugness.
"Dammit," she muttered, clicking her tongue in annoyance and huffing out an exhausted breath.
She picked up the robe left by the enigmatic mage. It was disappointingly ordinary with no brand signs to distinguish it, like something you would find at any bargain bin.
She took a cautious sniff, and it carried a crisp scent of fresh sage and rosemary, underpinned by earthy notes of sandalwood and cedar, as if he had just walked through a sunlit forest grove.
"I… have smelled this before, I am sure of it, but whose is it?" she murmured, her brow furrowing in confusion.
Unable to pinpoint the memory, she clutched the cloth in her fist.
"This is not over. I will find you, I swear," she vowed, her eyes fixated at the empty space where Vyan had been standing.
With a heavy heart, she sheathed her sword, the weight of unfinished business hanging over her. He might have escaped this time, but she knew their paths would cross again, and when they did, Iyana would be ready to end their battle once and for all.
Her eyes fell on the mask of the mage's boss, lying on the ground like a discarded party favor.
A satisfied smile crept onto her lips as she picked it up, noticing a few strands of golden blonde hair stuck to it.
"Well, at least with this, I can play detective and figure out who your master is for now, Mr. Mage," she uttered, twirling the mask in her hand like a victory trophy.
———
Clyde paced back and forth in Vyan's office in the Ashstone manor, digging a groove into the carpet.
Benedict stood nearby, waiting for the master of the house with an expression that suggested he might burst if forced to wait another minute.
Despite only being ten minutes since Clyde's return, his patience had evaporated like morning dew under a blazing sun.
"That's it. I am going back to the Valley of Divos—" Clyde declared, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
Just then, a soaking-wet brunette man materialized out of thin air. Benedict sprang into action, pulling out a knife from his pocket, ready to defend the manor.
"It's fine. It's His Grace," Clyde clarified, rolling his eyes.
Vyan tugged off his mask, his facial features morphing back to their usual form.
Benedict sighed in relief and dashed off to fetch some towels.
"What took you so long?" Clyde demanded, looking angry like a mother whose kid had returned home past the curfew. "And why on earth are you dripping wet?"
"Oh, you know, just taking the scenic route," Vyan replied casually, sarcasm dripping as heavily as the water from his clothes.
At Clyde's unamused flat look, Vyan grumbled, "I got lost, okay?" He summoned a small flame in his hand and ran it over his black hair, drying it instantly. "I was in a hurry, and my trajectory was a little off. So I ended up dropping into Trycone."
"A little off?" Clyde sputtered, incredulous. "You were hundreds of miles off! The Trycone Sea is on the border of Ashstone, and the manor is in the center of it. Do you realize the distance between those two places?"
Vyan gave him a deadpan look. "Yes, Clyde. I am well aware of basic geography. Thanks for the lecture. And if you must know, I barely escaped unharmed. So maybe instead of whining, you could just be happy I am not Iyana or a sea monster's dinner."
"About that," Clyde said, arms crossed over his chest. "Didn't you tell me you would stay away from fights? So what was the big idea of you diving in headfirst the moment we were attacked?"
"Because I knew it was Iyana," Vyan reasoned, "If I had run away with you and left our men to handle it, they would have been annihilated."
"But—"
"Oh," Vyan cut him off, glancing at Clyde with sudden realization, "Thank goodness you haven't shape-shifted back to your original form."
"Oh, yes," Clyde said, touching the jagged edge of his bangs with a touch of regret. "I realized my hair got cut off a little. Did you manage to get my mask back?"
Vyan gave him another deadpan stare.
"Right. You barely escaped with your life."
Clyde shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. "I can't believe I am having to say this, but as your aide, I am glad you made it out okay. But as your mentor, I am quite disappointed. Barely escaped? Is that the best you can do?"
"Well, I am sorry I am not omnipotent yet," Vyan retorted, while Benedict handed him a fluffy towel. "But do you think I showed her all my cards? I only exposed, like, what, ten percent of my power."
Clyde's lips twitched, but he maintained a strict demeanor. "And what possessed you to do that?"
"Well, obviously, I would have killed her otherwise. Where is the fun in that?"
"Really? That's the reason?" Clyde tilted his head, his brow arched in amusement now.
"Of course, what else?"
"Sureeee."
"I don't trust that tone," Vyan narrowed his eyes, and Clyde shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
"Master, my apologies for interrupting, but you should get out of these clothes," Benedict said.
Vyan nodded, then shot a pointed look at Clyde. "I will go and get changed. But you—don't shape-shift back to normal."
If Clyde reverted, the hair that Iyana likely collected would turn back to its original gray, revealing Clyde's identity if tested at the Tower of Magic.
Clyde groaned. "How long do I have to stay like this?"
"Until I swap your hair for Lyon's."
"And how exactly do you plan to pull that off? Lady Iyana's probably got it locked up tight until she turns it in to the Tower of Magic in the morning."
Vyan gave a smirk. "Don't worry. I have a plan."
"And what is the plan? Vyan, tell me!" Clyde hollered as Vyan sauntered out, not bothering to respond.
Clyde sighed, slapping a hand over his face. "That idiot just left like that. I didn't even get to thank him for saving my life back there."
'Well, what's the point in thanking me? Of course, I can't lose my loyal aide like this,' Vyan's voice suddenly echoed in Clyde's head, making him jump.
'Vyan! Stop popping into my head like this! Seriously!' Clyde mentally scolded.
Even though Vyan didn't respond anymore, Clyde just knew he was laughing his head off right now.
He glanced at a photo of himself with Vyan and Freya on Vyan's office desk. Even Benedict was in the background setting the picnic mat. He couldn't help but smile.
"He has changed so much, hasn't he?" Benedict spoke up as he appeared behind Clyde. "I remember the first time I met him. He was as frightened as a little kitten. So lost and so afraid, only filled with painful raw emotions."
"And now?" Clyde chuckled. "He doesn't even show what he is feeling. Nor does he seem to fear anything."
"While I am happy for his growth, I just hope he never loses himself in all this vengeance," Benedict expressed his worries. "I want justice for the Ashstone family, but I also want Master Vyan to be safe."
"Don't worry. I will make sure of that. I will never let him tackle anything dangerous alone," Clyde promised with sincere determination.
At the same time, on the other hand, Vyan was sneaking out of the manor by himself.
He teleported outside the imperial military base and let out a relieved sigh while muttering, "Clyde would never let me come to this place all alone." A place where teleportation and invisibility magic could not be used.
"Now that I am here, all I have to do is swap the hair strands back as soon as possible!"
This was going to be fun for him.
Because breaking into a high-security military base to steal a hair strand? That was just another normal day in his life of villainy.