Cole slipped out into the cool night, the door to his house closing with a faint creak behind him. The weight in his chest felt heavier with each step he took. It was that time of the year—the day his brother had died. It had been years, but the ache hadn’t dulled—it lingered, a constant reminder. The same reminder that angered him repeatedly.

  The streets were quiet, stripped of the noise that filled them during the day. Lanterns lined the pathways, their soft light stretching out in flickering patterns, making the shadows seem alive. Cole kept the hood of his cloak up, his gaze low, as though the darkness could shield him from his own thoughts.

  It wasn’t far before he reached the market square, where stalls stood closed and silent, their tarps tied down against the night wind. He could almost hear the echoes of laughter and haggling from earlier in the day on his way home from school. The grand fountain in the centre, its golden carvings of creatures glinting faintly under the moonlight, was still. Cole’s eyes lingered on it for a moment, thinking of the stories his mother used to tell about the Abyss.

  The “fallen star that descended onto Vahnor.” That was how the Abyss was always described—a great cataclysm that shaped their world. Some said it brought power to the strong, while others whispered that it was a curse, a trial for humanity’s arrogance. The myths didn’t matter much to Cole, but there were nights, like this one, when he couldn’t help but wonder what the Abyss truly was.

  His steps quickened as he moved past the towering Council Spire, its golden dome on top of the white tower gleaming faintly.

  The sight of it always stirred something bitter inside him. The four people on the council, the strongest among them that resided in this Kingdom who had reached the level of Vahnken—he couldn’t imagine that they had to experience the feeling of loss like him with how strong they were—that man included.

  By the time he reached the edge of the kingdom, the streets had turned rougher, the cobblestones giving way to uneven stone paths. He slipped through a small gate hidden beneath an arch of twisting vines. It was an old exit, forgotten by most, but Cole knew it well.

  The forest loomed ahead, its treetops forming a dense canopy that blocked out much of the moonlight. The air here was damp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of moss and pine. Cole’s heart felt heavier with each step as he followed the path he had walked so many times before—eventually crossing a log over a stream riddled with pebbles and stones.

  “Why do I keep doing this?” he wondered bitterly. It wasn’t as though visiting the grave brought him peace. If anything, it only deepened the ache, but staying away felt wrong—like forgetting. And forgetting was something he felt like he was not permitted to do, as if something in his body was preventing him from doing so.

  ‘It’s not my fault,’ He reassured himself.

  The clearing came into view, small and quiet, a pocket of stillness in the midst of the towering trees. Wildflowers had grown around the simple stone marker, their pale petals catching the faint light. Cole took a deep breath as he stepped closer, now sitting cross-legged on the floor. His brother had not died here, but it was the only place Cole could get away and pay his respects.

  He always felt uneasy during his annual visits. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out: “I’m sorry.” It was the same as every year. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling inside.

  ‘I have nothing to apologize for. I wasn’t the one in the wrong.’

  As he stood there, head bowed, a chill ran down his spine—not from the cold, but from the feeling of being watched. He lifted his head sharply, scanning his surroundings. That was when he saw her.

  She had black wavy hair tied in a messy bun, with bronze accessories that matched her red eyes, fading to brown at the edges. Her thick eyebrows and high cheekbones gave her face a refined look, while her heart-shaped lips completed her striking features. She was tall and slim, wearing a long black dress with a transparent chest area decorated in intricate black and red rose designs, subtly highlighting her figure—and consequently her rather small chest.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Cole had crossed paths with this girl many times before, often sparring with her as they grew up. He wouldn’t call her a friend—more of an acquaintance by circumstance. What set her apart was her relentless curiosity. Once something piqued her interest, she had a hard time letting it go, and Cole had no desire to become her next focus.

  His time with his brother would have to be cut short. He got up from the floor, moving as if he had already finished what he came here for.

  “You just got here?” The girl said, her head tilting slightly as if confused. “You’re done already?”

  “Why are you here, Yui?” Cole asked, his voice slightly tense. The girl standing before him wasn’t an ordinary person. She was the daughter of one of the members on the council, naturally her talent for strength was genius-like—however it is not like Cole lacked by too far in comparison. He had been given slight guidance by that man after all.

  The girl approached him, her gaze sharp. "I saw you walking alone," she said, inching closer to Cole. "What are you doing out here at this hour?" Her voice was curious, as if piecing together a mystery in her mind. Without warning, she reached for his throat, her touch light, not meant to harm, but to examine. "Is it related to these scars?"

  Cole jerked away, slapping her hand off, his voice unsteady. "What do you think you're doing?" He rubbed his neck nervously, hoping she hadn’t used any of her strange Bloodcraft.

  "They're pretty," she remarked, almost absently, as if admiring something far more than the question she had just asked.

  ‘Should I even be surprised?’ Cole sighed to himself.

  “I’m going back,” he said, turning to leave.

  "I’ll tag along," Yui said, her tone firm, almost like an order. She glided alongside him.

  Now walking back they traversed the forest, although the girl was weird Cole did feel slightly less lonely. Not going to school much—evident by his near zero attendance—and mainly sticking to himself had made interactions like these slightly more valuable, even if it was with a person he perceived as slightly crazy.

  They walked in silence for a while before Yui broke it with a smug tone. “You know,” she said, a sly smile playing on her lips, “you’re not the only one who’s lost someone.”

  Cole glanced at her, his jaw tightening. “What do you mean?”

  Yui tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “I mean, you’re not the only one who’s been through something like that. Everyone deals with loss. It’s not some unique burden you've been given.”

  His hands trembled at his sides. “Are you saying it’s not a big deal?” he questioned, his voice rising.

  The wind started to pick up as they continued walking.

  She shrugged casually, her grin widening. “Oh, it’s a big deal, sure. But the way you act, it’s like you think you’re the only one who’s ever felt this way. When are you going to do something about it, coward?.”

  Cole’s fists balled tighter, but he held back the retort burning at the back of his throat. “It’s not that simple,” he muttered.

  Yui’s expression shifted, though her smirk didn’t fade. “Really? Because it seems pretty simple to me. Maybe you like playing the victim.”

  He walked ahead of her, in order to hold himself back from starting a fight. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “Right, sure. I don’t know anything about loss.” Yui’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “But I guess it’s easier to blame your past than face the present, huh?”

  Cole’s anger flared, his breathing quickening. “You think you know me?”

  “I don’t need to know you to see it,” she replied coolly, voice full with amusement. “It’s written all over you. But you know what? Keep holding on to your grief. Maybe it’ll keep you company forever.”

  Cole was silent for a moment, trying to control the surge of emotions threatening to spill over. He felt the sting of her words, but there was something about her mocking tone that made it worse.

  “I’m not asking for sympathy,” he muttered, his voice quiet but sharp.

  Yui raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the effect her words had. “No, you’re not. But you sure act like you expect it.”

  She stepped closer to him, giving him a pat on the back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, though. Maybe one day you’ll stop being so miserable and actually start living. Or maybe not. Who cares, right?”

  With that, she stopped provoking Cole, her dress fluttering in the slight wind, and began walking ahead, her steps light and carefree, as if the conversation had been nothing but a game to her. He really hated the way this girl talked to people, as if she could see through them.

  Cole watched her for a moment, the weight of her words lingering in the air, before he followed her back toward the republic.