27TH

The air smells fresh with the grass poking out from the slowly melting snow. It adds to the pleasant feeling with a wooden cup in my hand filled with steaming hot spear rose tea, which I got from a wheeled stall walked by an old man before arriving here moments ago. He said he does it every morning until around noon. I have to admit, he brews it just as delicate as the one Grace makes and gives me every morning break at the Barrier. I find the drink a delight for a time like this, which I've never seen before — pink and blue skies that are now covered in sparse snow clouds, despite the sun being on its peak. It must a be rare case.

I'm glad about the part where I was still able to sleep dreamlessly. It was long — perhaps even the longest I've had after everything. The weeping over reading my father's journal very much exhausted me. I passed out with it in my hold and woke up almost being buried by my weight under the bed. I have it here in my pocket and later will attempt to decode some of the writings about his Immortal Armaments, I just need some language books that would help. It might take a while to figure out any of it, so I won't let a minute or two have the journal be away from me.

I'm here in the training field of the settlement, waiting for Carvin Foyde to arrive as I watch children play around with sticks and snow while also watching a few other people train at this early time of the day. Reminds me of how I used to be like that.

I brought both of the Immortal Armaments with me. I know I said that it's too soon for me to wield both, but it doesn't mean I can't learn what either can do. After taking another sip, I stand to draw them both in my grasp. Carrying them together feels heavier than just carrying one that, instead, feels light like a feather. It's a justification.

I stash the white armament back into its scabbard and leave the black one in my hold. Then, I form a stance, hovering the weapon horizontally next to my face, the very tip directed to the hay-made target dummy ahead. From the side of my peripheral, I can see my own gaze's reflection. If I can't learn what the swords can do yet, then I can at least start with what I can do. Let's see if I can make it glow again, like the first time I held it. For a second, I shut my eyes and slowly exhale the air I draw throughout my mouth. The moment the last ounce of air escapes, the target is severed. Its lower half remains in place, its slant surface burnt black and smoldering purple. As fascinating as it looks, how will that help me figure out how to stop another prophesied war?

"Wow," I hear a familiar voice from my rear, and it's Mar. There he stands astounded with a tray in hand filled with food.

"Hey," I say. "Aren't you supposed to be on the farm at this time?"

That pulls him from the fascination. "No. It's a day off for me. I knew you'd be here so… paid you a visit."

I don't dare ask how he figured I'll be here, and only nod to his statement. His tensed body screams discomfort — or rather awkwardness. But he soon snaps.

"Brought lunch for you." He then places the tray on my seat next to my drink, then faces me again, and adds, "You're fully recovered, so I guess you can eat anything now again."

"Thanks," I only say, lightly chuckling to at least ease his prominent fidgeting. "It's good to walk properly again."

He giggles at that. "We'll have a celebration tonight, and I was kind of hoping to ask if you'd like to come."

That, I am taken aback. "What kind of celebration?"

"Not much, just a simple occasion. We managed to gather a lot of food this season, so can't let them get spoiled by the cold."

For a moment, I don't know how to respond as my thought quickly falls onto the man. "Sure," I finally say and it completely removes the uneasiness from the elf's composure.

"I'll see you tonight," He says, beaming brightly, and I only return the words before he turns his heels and leaves.

I proceeded to the food he brought. I appreciate the gesture, but my appetite is not demanding any sustenance at the moment. It's probably the tea I still have. Or maybe something else. Where could the man be…? I went by his hut again earlier and he wasn't there. He's probably still on the hunt with my Lion-boar as Eleanor mentioned last night.

My sudden notice of Grace's presence, just right at the entry of this training section, pulls me back from the thought. She has her forearms settled on the fences between us, her wings keeping her shoulders warm as she holds a cup in one hand — probably the same drink I have — and bitten moist bread in the other.

"Two guys in what? Nine, ten days?" Of course, that's what she'll say out of all the greetings. It's not new to me, though.

"Morning," I chortle and roll my eyes funnily at her, then turn to pick up the mess I made. I only feel her light steps come past me to sit on the log. "How's Kyla?"

"Still dreaming," She says. "She had a long day touring me around yesterday."

I take that as a chance to return the favor of her initial greeting. So, I say, "And probably, a long night, too."

And there, I feel the soft bread hit my head. "You haven't even told me about your new friend."

My face immediately falls.

She rolls her eyes. "You know who I'm talking about."

I hold back the exasperated breath that I almost blew after hearing that. Yes. She's pertaining to the man. What happened the other night between him and me was left open-ended. I can't tell if he was upset or something else. But surely, he was nowhere near being stubborn with the way he left—thanks to my outburst.

"I thought you two met when you arrived here?" I say. "Did your social skills die?

"Ah yes, just having arrived from a very long trip after being pursued by an Ordinal sure still would make my social skills be going," She says, sipping. The sarcasm only made me feel guilty for the joke.

I guess it's only fair to comply with any of her requests after what I put her and Kyla through. So I took the time to tell her about the man, including how he saved my life multiple times. But I didn't go too far into explaining. I leave out him being this creature and the sketch of my face he has. It's not my place to disclose much about someone who I still don't know much about. Plus, I still have to talk to him.

"That's a very unconventional way to meet a potential stranger," She sips again. And potential? "But, leaving after he saved you is completely much of an audacity that I never knew you're capable of having."

As much as offensive the way she put that, she's right. Not even the attempted compensation I offered him was enough, so I can't use any of it as a reason. There's no reason, at all. "It doesn't mean that I don't owe him an unpayable debt," I say. "If you were me, you'd understand."

"Yes, I know, I know. I don't mean to dismiss the fact that you were almost killed that day. But, still, you ended up being together." She keeps that mocking smile, and I know her words imply double meaning. Pointing that out might just make it worse for me.

"Well, I won't deny that I wouldn't have made it here if it weren't for him."

"At least you're honest." She makes a face that further mocks me, and all I can do to escape the mortification is by laughing it off. I then turn to finally escape the constant mortification, but she speaks again. "So, what's his name?"

I freeze, then turn to her with an empty expression.

"Oh, don't tell me." And right there, she read me too quickly. "You've been on quite a long journey with this man to bring you here, saved your life multiple times," She immediately springs from her seat, almost even spilling her drink, and strides towards me. "And you never even bothered to ask his name?"

That, I cannot defend. I'm only silent. Indeed, it is shameful that I never bothered to ask his name.

She doesn't stop and points a thumb over her shoulder. "Let me guess, you rather know that elf's name."

And that just elevates the shame.

"Well, Kyvin Licht, you have a lot to work on."

Suddenly, we find Ordinal Twenty-One along with Carvin Foyde arriving, which quickly has us solidify our stances and salute them. But we're left ignored as the severed target immediately puts an awed expression on the Ravenbird man's face. Perhaps, he might not have seen a clean cut as such.

"You did this?" He asks.

"Yes, Sir," Grace answers for me. "The tutors were always impressed with him in our academy days." Then she follows introducing herself quickly.

There's the Ordinal, also examining the almost smooth surface of the target. "What else can you do?" He asks, now facing me.

I then quickly make a list in my head of what I can recall before answering him and halfway into mentioning all of them, Carvin cuts in.

"And how many can you do at will?"

I shake my head, hesitant. "Just making the sword glow, but I'm barely used to it. Still, even if I learn to do the rest, how's any of it even going to help us stop another war from coming, let alone we're doing this beyond any world authority?"

"As you know, no person in this world has ever been able to further study any hellion out there, not even any of us legionnaires. We only know what they look like and what they do," He says. "For now, the only theory that we can lean on is if the more you hone those hellion powers of yours, the more you might be able to strengthen your connection to the Otherrealm. Therefore, understand them."

"I can concur with that. Me being linked to them is not a question anymore," I add. "It's why I was able to call a hellion back in the desert." And caused Alek and his friends' death. "So maybe we should start with that. Much better if we go to the exact place where my father obtained the entity."

The Ordinal drops his gaze and sighs, silently. "I did not expect that to be your first move."

"Well, we can't just waste time here," I counter. "Unless you want to bring it to a debate with other suggestions that you might have."

"No," Carvin intervenes. "Not like we ever had other options at our disposal. Finnobair's plan for the years only involves waiting for your powers to wake."

"It's because your decision still matters," Finnobair reasons. "It is none of my rights to strip you of that."

"Okay. It's settled, then. I want to go."

"Kye, I'm not sure if that's even a good idea." Grace adds. "You're literally going to visit where the war began?"

"Crossing the Barrier may be a guarantee," The Ordinal says. "But, the place that you speak of is of uncharted locations beyond what Front Soldiers can explore. And it's rare for any of the Ordinals to wander there."

"I know," I say. "So, we make a plan," I suggest.

"Very well. I'll be the one to discuss this with the council."

"Shouldn't I be there?" I ask.

"Not necessarily," The elf says. "I see none of the members that would disagree with your decision, not even your mother. Your commitment to this is already fixed as you deemed last night." He then turns his heels. "You should stay here with Carvin and train with him. Try heeding your hellion abilities, as well. Perhaps it might help."

"Couldn't ask for more," The Ravenbird man cheers.

The day proceeds seamlessly. I stay here in the training camp as the Ordinal to train with the Ravenbird lad. It's just us and barely any other people training, unlike the other day. Perhaps because of the occasion tonight. I kept the armaments stashed then put them somewhere safe, and rather proceeded with a simple one, yet the unwanted attention from people coming by persisted along. I guess having gone around enough places in the camp, especially interacting with Ordinal Twenty-One and the council members must've given them enough hint of who I am. But I dared not to even think what they had in mind.

There could only be one Ordinal Eight, and that's my father. 

Carvin asks me to try displaying some of my other abilities besides making the sword glow and see how we can work on them, but we're only left wasted of time and disappointed. It didn't make him discouraged, though. Can't have everything done in one day. Dusk arrives which puts the long session to an end. However, I agreed to Carvin's offer of having more training sessions with him, which I gladly accepted.

I then return to my former training place, and I'm disappointed at myself as the tray of food left by Mar is still there, untouched and chilled completely by the surrounding snow. It's beyond edible now, so I have no choice but to return it to the dining facility. The only way I can make it up to Mar is to comply with his invitation, just as I agreed on. I take a quick, warm bath at the inn and neatly dress up that elicits a presentable approach despite the scarcity of clothes that I can only use. But I hope a plain loose shirt tucked into dirty-colored cotton pants is enough.

As I rush out of the inn after fixing my hair and applying some grounded flowers onto my skin, I'm forced to return inside upon seeing the falling flakes from the sky to retrieve a robe. It's only odd that the scent retained strength considering the amount of time it has been with me, which brings the thought—

A knock from the porch suddenly erupts, then followed by a familiar voice calling my name. It's Mar. I immediately get to the porch to greet him. I can still make out the smile on his face and the supple shoes beneath his robe with the lights coming from the windows.

"Hey…" I greet and he can only wave at me awkwardly. "How'd you know where I stay?"

"I get around a lot," He answers. "And… was one of those who saw you the day you first arrived."

I only nod. "Right…"

"You have a dark porch," He says.

I scratch the back of my neck as I chuckle awkwardly. "Yeah, I forgot. Couldn't be late for the occasion. But I guess it doesn't matter now, does it?."

"Yeah." He keeps his hands in the pockets of his pants to calm them from fidgeting. "Shall we go?"

I watch heavy and light feet dance around a giant bonfire, attuned to the precision of the upbeat accompaniments in the background. It's quite a performance. They also have ravenbirds dancing in the air, while children in the audience try matching the steps, but they'd only look as playful as anyone else would see. Yet in between smiles that the scenes elicit from me, the thought of the man just comes and goes and it would make my eyes dart in directions unknowingly anticipating to see him around. He should be back by now. Unless he is where I assume he is — at his hut. I guess being the… rogue Wolf-Breed he is suggests that he prefers to be not in crowds.

Mar returns with two cups, one in each hand, and offers one to me. I appreciatively take it as he stands half a meter beside me. And again, my mind diverts to the man upon seeing the color of the liquid that almost resembles his soup. But it's just wine.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," He begins, sounding much more at ease than earlier. "But, I find it unusual to see someone recover that fast with that amount of injury." Then sips from his cup.

"It's unusual for me to hear that from an elf," I remark. "You know how quick recoveries are now, thanks to your people. Not to mention, having a Rune Writer Ordinal."

"I actually don't," He counters, giggling. "I lived here my life, plus, my family is not any of magic. And the Legionnaire doesn't do the medical stuff around, since Eleanor is already the head of that here. So I'm rather used to witnessing traditional medicine. She actually treated a snake bite I had once."

"Really? Where?"

"Right here on the thigh," He points to his limb. "Luckily, it wasn't venomous."

"Luckily, indeed," I say before involuntarily sipping into the cup, and my face twists with distaste. But instead of spitting it out, I force myself to swallow it.

"Not into wine?" I hear him ask, amused.

"Nope," I answer, voice strained with the remnant bitter taste in my throat. "Never really liked any sort of ale in general."

"Why not?"

"It just tastes bitter, at least, to me. And I don't like it."

"Well, that's on me, then. I'll bring you juice next time," He then reaches his hand to take the cup from me and I give it.

"Preferably."

"Kyvin!" That long slur immediately makes me register the presence of my Ravenbird friend. I can already sense the amount of alcohol she drowned herself in. I turn in her direction and see Kyla, who seems to have drunk as well but is still completely sober, keeping her partner steady and avoiding letting the ravenbird's wings hit anyone around as they come our way.

I stumble to assist and successfully have her other arm over my shoulders. "How much did she drink?" I ask

"We've been looking all over for you!" Grace interrupts before Kyla answers.

"Two full mugs of elven mead."

Elven mead? It sure isn't always for a non-elven appetite. But, since when did she even learn to be fond of it when she passed out for four hours after the first shot?

"If you'd generously excuse us, handsome," Grace directs to Mar. "We'd like to borrow our friend for a moment—"

"I'm really sorry," I say to Mar. "I have to help her."

"No worries," He beams, but it's incomplete. And I feel sorry even more. It wasn't already fair that I didn't get to pay attention to the meal he had brought earlier, and now this. But I'll try to make it up to him.

I take my Ravenbird friend and have her on my back and let Kyla take the lead ahead. As we reach through the tree line with fewer people, I notice the unfamiliarity of the direction we're going, and soon enough, Grace pats my chest and speaks again.

"Alright, you can put me down now."

My temper immediately breaks and my expression turns cold as she jumps down from my back and stands next to her elven girlfriend. I face them with a clenched jaw. "Seriously?"

"Hey," Grace frowns, swallowing bitterly. "I had to chew fermented nuts that they use to make those elf-beers, which were disgusting, and cause all that act for this."

"You could've just excused me properly."

"Well, then it wouldn't have given the thought that you won't be back there for a while."

I sigh to her excuse, palming my forehead. "What for?"

She trades gazes with Kyla, "It's your friend."

"Who? Mar?"

"No," Kyla says. "Your other friend."

I stare at Grace, quickly registering that she told Kyla about the man as well. I have no time to question that as my curiosity is rather on what they mean to say about the man. "What about him?"

"He's leaving," Grace answers. "Was flying around earlier up the trees, then saw him come back from a hunt, gathering food and stuff."

"We're not precise, yet," Kyla adds. "But it's the only thing we can assume. It's just odd to see someone packing that much."

I hate to believe in their claim, but my instincts prevail in my judgment. I look back in the direction of the lively fest, my guilt about Mar holding me off. But, the shame of just letting the man go when we haven't gotten any closure consumes me further.

"I'll be back," I only say, and make my way to the man.