—What?! —the three of them shouted at the same time.
—As you heard, he is my ex-boyfriend —Kio repeated, crossing her arms as if that closed the subject.
—Exactly, a pleasure —Alexander added, raising his hand with total naturalness.
The expressions on Zein, Kiomi, and Lyra's faces were priceless. None of them, not even Kiomi with her usual composure, seemed capable of processing what they had just heard. Zein opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Kiomi frowned, serious, as if she were trying to reconstruct the world from scratch.
At that moment, someone else came out through the same back door Alexander had appeared from.
She was a woman of quiet presence, with a serene air that contrasted with the chaos of the moment. Her black hair fell in messy waves over soft, attentive amber eyes. She had pale, almost snowy skin and wore a traditional black and white outfit of well-kept layers and clean lines, very similar to Alexander's, though on her it seemed lighter.
She approached him with calm steps.
—What's happening, love? —she asked in a low voice.
Alexander cleared his throat before responding, as if he had just remembered an important detail.
—Ah, right —he said—. Let me introduce you to my wife, Mei.
He put an arm around her, proud.
—Nice to meet you —she greeted, bowing her head slightly with a warm smile.
Mei's eyes landed on Kio… and they lit up.
—Kio! —she exclaimed, approaching without hesitation and wrapping her in a hug—. It's been so long since we've seen each other.
—Yes… —Kio responded, without offering any resistance.
In fact, unlike what had happened before, she did not try to pull away. She even leaned into the weight for just a second longer than necessary.
—What a surprise —Kio said when Mei let her go—. Who would have thought you would end up marrying Alexander… after how much you two hated each other.
Mei let out a small laugh.
—You see —she responded—. As they say, there's only one step from hatred to love.
Zein and Kiomi remained motionless, still trapped in their own astonishment. Lyra, on the other hand, had already moved toward a nearby display case, fascinated by some ancient relics, touching the glass with curiosity.
—What memories, right? —Mei commented, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.
Kio looked away and scratched her cheek.
—To be honest… I don't remember much —she said, letting out a nervous laugh that convinced no one.
—Oh, I certainly remember a lot… especially when we were together —Alexander said, tilting his head with a far too suggestive smile.
The blow came immediately.
Mei slapped him on the back of the head, sharp and precise.
—Honestly, you… —she murmured, visibly annoyed.
—Ahem —Kio intervened, clearing her throat—. Mei, Alexander, let me introduce Zein, Lyra, and Kiomi. They are under my protection now… for certain reasons.
—Nice to meet you —the three responded almost in unison.
—My, what polite children —Mei commented, bringing a hand to her cheek with genuine tenderness.
Alexander observed them more closely, as if something had just clicked for him.
—And what happened to Meliora and Lucian? —he asked suddenly—. We haven't seen them in a long time.
Kio's expression tensed for just a second.
—It would be better if we discussed that in private —she said, already turning around.
Without adding anything more, Kio headed toward a separate room at the back, followed by Alexander and Mei. The door closed behind them, leaving Zein, Kiomi, and Lyra alone in the main part of the shop.
An awkward silence fell.
Lyra continued browsing through the objects, fascinated. Kiomi remained still, her back straight and her gaze alert. Zein, however, did not have much time to think.
The bell on the door rang, and someone entered without noticing their presence.
The girl took a couple of steps… and crashed right into Zein.
The young woman fell sitting onto the floor. She had a hunched posture, almost as if she were trying to make herself small. Her ash-black hair completely covered her eyes, and her clothes—oversized black and white layers with dropped shoulders—seemed to wrap around her like a hiding place. She wore several metallic ornaments on her lips and ears, and a large bag fell beside her with a dull thud.
She rubbed her head, embarrassed.
—Are you okay? —Zein asked, crouching down and extending his hand to her.
As soon as she raised her face and noticed someone was speaking to her, she blushed. She froze, as if her mind had completely stopped working.
One second.
Two.
Then she reacted.
She jumped to her feet, murmured an almost inaudible apology, and, without looking back, ran out of the shop, leaving behind only the light tinkling of the bell and a silence even stranger than before.
"Did I see that correctly? No… no one reacts like that to Zein," Kiomi thought, watching the door out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe she was just someone who was extremely embarrassed."
—That was weird… who could she have been? —Zein murmured, scratching the back of his neck.
Time passed slowly. Too slowly. The girl wasn't leaving.
She was still outside, huddled in a corner by the storefront, peeking her head out every so often, as if measuring the exact moment to go back inside.
"She probably thinks we can't see her," Zein thought, pretending to examine an antique while watching her out of the corner of his eye.
At that moment, the back door opened.
Alexander, Mei, and Kio returned. The first two had reddened, moist eyes, though they smiled as if nothing had happened. Kio maintained a serious expression, but there was something different in her posture—a silent exhaustion.
—We will host you here —Alexander said, resting a hand on Mei's shoulder—. It's no problem.
—Yes —she added softly—. We have several spare rooms. You can stay as long as you need.
They guided them through the establishment. Behind the shop, a narrow hallway opened up, leading to a wide courtyard. In the center stood a tree with a thick, twisted trunk, so old it seemed to hold the place up by sheer stubbornness.
Beyond that was the house.
It was warm, filled with strange objects and comforts unknown to them—small details that made it evident that Mirathun was nothing like Ilmenor. They showed them the rooms where they would be staying for now, with no questions and no conditions.
Then Alexander led them back toward the hallway. This time, he stopped before a discrete entrance.
He opened the door.
Long stairs descended into the basement, swallowing the light little by little. As they went down, a murmur enveloped them.
There was an enormous bar underground.
Occupied tables, messy laughter, glasses clinking against wood, bodies already defeated by alcohol. Torches illuminated the place with a warm, flickering glow. At the back, to the right, stood an empty, wide stage, waiting for something. And in the center of it all, dominating the room, a ring.
A raised platform of solid wood dominated the center of the place. It was surrounded by taut hemp ropes, marked by wear, forming a closed and oppressive square. There wasn't much space to move inside; it was built for bodies to collide, so that no one could flee.
The group stood staring at it for a few seconds too long.
They ended up sitting at a vacant table, large enough for everyone.
—I didn't know you had such a… dirty business —Kio commented, resting her elbow on the table with a mocking smile.
Alexander let out a small laugh as he signaled to a waiter.
—I thought that if you were going to live here, you should at least know this place exists.
—You're right —Kio admitted, without taking her eyes off the ring.
—Doesn't it seem strange to you that we haven't heard anything about Ilmenor? —Alexander asked, lowering his voice.
—Maybe because it's only been a couple of days since the incident —Kio responded, observing the grain of the table as if looking for something there.
—It would surprise you how fast rumors fly in Mirathun.
—Then perhaps the Empire doesn't want anything to be known —Kio said, just as a drink was placed in front of her—. Maybe they are withholding the information.
Mei raised an eyebrow at the contents of the glass.
—I can't believe you're still in the habit of ordering the strongest alcohol in every place you go.
Kio drank without responding.
—And why wouldn't they want it to be known? —Alexander asked, taking a calmer sip.
—I don't know —Kio said, placing the empty glass on the table—. Maybe they don't want public opinion to turn against them.
Mei looked at the glass and then at Kio.
—That was fast…
As they spoke, Zein, Kiomi, and Lyra observed the place closely. New faces, strange laughter, tired gazes. Everything was different, far too different.
Then they saw her.
The same girl from before entered the bar. She moved forward with her head down, as if the floor interested her more than the people. She sat alone at a secluded table, shrinking into herself.
Lyra recognized her instantly.
Without saying anything, she got up from her seat and walked toward her.
—Wait, Lyra, don't bother her… —Zein tried to stop her, but it was useless.
Lyra sat at the same table as the girl. At first, the silence weighed between them; the stranger hunched her shoulders, playing with her fingers on the table. From afar, Zein and Kiomi could only guess the conversation through their gestures.
Little by little, the girl's stiffness began to loosen. Her shoulders stopped being so tense, and her voice, though low, began to flow. The more she spoke with Lyra, the more confident she seemed to feel.
At one point, Lyra pointed toward the table where Zein and Kiomi were. Both raised their hands in greeting. The girl barely imitated the gesture, raising her hand just enough… but when her eyes met Zein's, she started and turned her face away immediately, trying to hide.
"This cannot be true. No… it can't be," Kiomi thought, fixing her gaze on Zein as if she were trying to pull an explanation out of him with her eyes alone.
Lyra returned to the table shortly after.
—How did it go? —Zein asked.
—Good… —Lyra responded, bringing a hand to her neck—. It's just that my throat hurts a little.
—Don't push yourself —Zein said, sliding a glass of water to her.
—And? —Kiomi intervened—. Who was she?
—She said her name is Naoko —Lyra responded after taking a sip—. She's about your age.
—And why did she leave? —Zein asked.
—She didn't leave —she clarified—. She said she had to do something quickly and that she would be back.
The atmosphere of the place began to change.
Several people got up from their tables and began to gather near the ring. Silver and bronze coins jingled as they fell into the hands of someone collecting them while noting down numbers on a small chalkboard.
Suddenly, a voice boomed from inside the ring.
—Shut up, you bastards! This is about to begin! —roared the figure in the center.
The shouting and the dry thud of wood caused the group to move closer, pushed by curiosity.
—The last fight of the night starts now! —the voice continued—. It's been dawn for a while, you damn drunks!
—Just shut up and let the fight start! —people from the crowd shouted at him.
—Today's fight will be between two legends of this bar! —
—What is happening? —Zein asked, raising his voice above the noise.
—A fight —Alexander responded with a proud smile—. Two people face each other; the winner takes part of the money. You can also bet.
—Aha… and who is fighting? —Kiomi asked, crossing her arms.
—Wait and see.
—In one corner, we have the Wall of Mirathun! —the announcer roared—. Almost undefeated champion, more than fifty fights in this bar! —
A massive man entered the ring. Tall, muscular, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and scars scattered across his torso like old trophies. He wore only reinforced leather trunks that reached mid-thigh. His hands, wrapped in linen bandages, opened and closed calmly, as if he already knew how this would end.
—Put some clothes on, exhibitionist! —someone shouted from a corner.
—Look at those muscles… —Zein murmured without realizing it.
—And in the other corner! —the voice continued—. The one! The only! The invincible demon! Absolute champion! Not a single lost fight! —
From the opposite side, a figure crossed the ropes.
It was Naoko.
But not the shy Naoko from a while ago.
Her hair was tied back in a firm ponytail, with two strands framing her face. Her eyes no longer hid; they observed the place with a sharp calm. She wore a tight combat top and short trunks that left her legs free. The bandages on her hands and forearms were pulled tight, ready.
She did not hesitate. She did not waver.
She simply stepped into the center.