Hours passed unnoticed in the prison.
The torches burned low, their flames barely strong enough to keep the darkness at bay. The cold stone wall pressed against Lena's back as exhaustion finally claimed her. Her breathing evened out, slow and shallow, head tilted slightly to one side.
Ashikai lay curled on her lap, his tail wrapped loosely around her leg. For once, his usual restlessness was gone. His small chest rose and fell in rhythm with her breath, ears relaxed, eyes closed.
The prison was still.
Then the shadows moved.
Not cast by torchlight. Not shaped by flame.
A darkness detached itself from the corner of the cell and slid forward, silent as a thought. It passed through the iron bars as though they were smoke, its form shifting—sometimes tall, sometimes thin, sometimes barely there at all.
It stopped in front of Lena.
The shadow leaned closer, head tilting as if studying her. Cold pressure brushed the air around her, but she did not wake.
Ashikai's ear twitched.
Once.
Then again.
His eyes snapped open.
He did not move at first. He did not growl. He simply looked.
Straight at the shadow.
The fox's body went rigid.
"…You," Ashikai said quietly.
The shadow turned its head.
Two faint points of silver light ignited where eyes should have been.
"Well," the shadow murmured, its voice layered, echoing over itself. "You're sharper than you look, little fox."
Ashikai rose slowly, careful not to wake Lena. His tail bristled, teeth just barely visible. "You're not supposed to be here."
The shadow laughed softly, a sound like cracking ice and whispering ash. "Neither is she."
"What do you want?" Ashikai demanded.
The shadow drifted closer, circling Lena without touching her. "To observe. To admire. To anticipate."
Ashikai stepped between it and Lena, growling low. "Speak plainly."
"Oh, but riddles are so much more fun," the shadow replied. "Tell me, fox—what do you think happens when hope is mistaken for destiny?"
Ashikai's eyes narrowed. "You leave."
The shadow paused, then chuckled. "Protective. Loyal. Predictable."
It leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him.
"I am here to destroy my dear brother's hope."
Ashikai's blood ran cold.
"Kairos," he breathed.
The shadow straightened. "Ah. So you do understand."
Ashikai glared "I won't allow you to hurt her, never!!"
The shadow laughed "this was why you were banished from the nine gates of heaven little fox, I will get rid of her after I feet rid of you"
Before Ashikai could lunge, the shadow dissolved—pulled backward into nothingness, slipping between breaths and vanishing as if it had never existed.
The prison was silent again.
Ashikai stood frozen for several long moments, ears twitching, senses stretched thin. He circled the cell twice, sniffing the air, growling under his breath.
"Trouble," he muttered.
Eventually, reluctantly, he returned to Lena's lap. He curled there again, but sleep did not come easily. His eyes stayed open for a long while, watching the shadows, until exhaustion dragged him under once more.
---
Morning came harsh and abrupt.
The prison doors opened with a clang, light spilling into the corridor.
"Lena of the North," a guard called. "You are summoned."
Lena stirred, blinking groggily as Ashikai lifted his head. "Summoned?" she murmured.
"Inspection," the guard said flatly. "Both of you."
They were led from the cell into a circular chamber lined with runes. A different seer waited there—taller, younger, eyes sharp and unclouded.
The seer wasted no time.
Magic flared, probing, scanning, pressing against Lena's presence from every angle. Ashikai bristled but stayed still.
Minutes passed.
The seer frowned.
"There is nothing," he said at last. "No magic. No curse. No mark."
Murmurs erupted again.
Kairos stood at the center of the chamber, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Scan again," he ordered.
The seer did.
Still nothing.
"And the fox?" Kairos asked.
The seer turned his attention to Ashikai, hesitated, then shook his head. "Unremarkable. Intelligent, perhaps—but mundane."
Kairos's gaze lingered on Lena.
Too long.
"I am not convinced," he said quietly.
The noble chiefs erupted at once.
"She's dangerous!"
"This defies reason!"
"She should not be released!"
Kairos raised a hand.
Silence fell.
"There is no evidence," he said. "Only suspicion. And suspicion is not law."
He turned to Lena. "You will be returned to the village. Watched. Closely."
The chiefs protested again, louder this time.
Kairos's eyes flicked toward them, cold and sharp.
"That is my final word."
---
The village felt unreal after stone and shadow.
Sunlight warmed Lena's skin as she stepped onto the familiar dirt path. Ashikai hopped down beside her, stretching dramatically.
"I hate prisons," he announced. "They lack snacks."
She snorted. "You almost bit a guard."
"He started it."
They wandered through the village market, tension slowly easing. For a brief moment, it almost felt normal.
Almost.
Ashikai snatched a corn dog from a vendor's stall.
"Hey!" Lena protested, grabbing the other end.
"I saw it first."
"You're a fox!"
"Your point?"
They tugged back and forth, bickering loudly, drawing amused glances.
"Let go," she hissed.
"No."
The corn dog snapped in half.
They both stared at it.
"…Fine," Ashikai said grudgingly. "You take the bigger piece."
Before Lena could reply, laughter rang out.
A young girl came running down the path, eyes bright, feet moving too fast for caution.
She slammed straight into Lena.
Lena stumbled—but instinct kicked in. She grabbed the girl's shoulders and steadied her before she could fall.
The girl looked up, wide-eyed, then grinned.
"Sorry!" she chirped.
Lena smiled back, unaware that somewhere beyond sight, fate had just taken note.