Chapter 36
"Harkon and Minaru"
The Sato House — That Evening
Night. The village of Millin is quieter than it should be for this hour — the usual evening sounds missing in the northern quarter, replaced by the crackle of controlled burns being managed and the low voices of people taking stock of what the morning took from them. Three houses heavily damaged. One market stall gone entirely. A well wall cracked. The bucket chains finished their work before sunset.
In the southern residential quarter, one house has more people in it than usual.
The Sato main room. Sakura has moved the table to make space — there are six people in a room built for four, and six people includes Senri Kako and Alice Vermonta, both of whom fill space without trying to. Honji is back from the forest — he came back to smoke on the horizon and arrived to find his sons already treated and his village mid-repair, and the expression he wore for the first hour has mostly settled but not entirely.
The twins are on the couch. Hiruma's ribs have been wrapped — Sakura worked on them first with the green aura of Magic Recovery Arts, the healing wind closing what she could and reducing what she couldn't to manageable. Ayato's shoulder has been similarly addressed. Both of them look like people who have had a long and difficult day, which is accurate.
Sakura finishes tying the last wrap on Hiruma's chest. She straightens. She looks at him.
SAKURA
(The controlled voice of someone who has been managing something for several hours and is now releasing it in measured doses.)
"You ran out of the house."
HIRUMA
(Not looking away.)
"Something was wrong with the village."
SAKURA
"I told you to stop."
HIRUMA
"I know."
SAKURA
"And you ran out anyway."
HIRUMA
(Honestly.)
"...Yes."
She looks at him for a long moment.
SAKURA
(Quietly — the anger losing to the relief, which was always going to win.)
"I know. I know why."
She puts her hand briefly on his head. Moves to check Ayato's shoulder one more time.
Across the room — Senri and Alice on the chairs Honji brought from the kitchen. Honji himself at the far wall with his arms crossed, looking at nobody specifically and reading the room entirely. The faces of parents and teachers after a day that required more than it should have.
ALICE
(To the room — the version of Alice who has had time to settle the adrenaline and is now fully operational.)
"We need to understand what the figures were tracking. The shorter one made it clear — what they want from the boys isn't their primary elements. Fire and wind aren't rare. What they called rare is something else. Something dormant."
The word lands in the room. Everyone sitting with it.
HONJI
(Steady.)
"Define dormant."
ALICE
"A second element. One that hasn't awakened yet because the primary awakening suppressed it. Extremely rare — there are no confirmed cases in current Lumina records. The theory exists, but it's considered exceptional enough that most practitioners treat it as historical rather than active."
Silence.
HIRUMA
(Sitting up despite the ribs.)
"A second element. Each of us."
SENRI
(Looking at him.)
"The device the shorter figure carried — it was reading a signal. A magical signature that common elements don't produce. It was pointing at you two specifically."
AYATO
(The processing look — the one that means he's already twelve steps into the implication.)
"Which means they built the device to find something specific. They knew what they were looking for before they started. This wasn't a random search."
He looks at his parents.
AYATO
"Was there anything unusual about when we were born? Or before? Anything that might indicate—"
SAKURA
(Meeting his eyes.)
"Nothing. You were born normally. Both of you, the same night, no complications, no unusual magic readings from either of you as infants. The midwife didn't note anything. Senri was not your teacher yet. There was nothing to notice."
She says it plainly — the honesty of someone who has been turning this question over since Alice used the word dormant and has found no answer.
HONJI
"Same from my side. I checked everything I could remember on the walk back this afternoon. I have nothing."
A silence. The fire in the hearth burning low. The village outside quieter than normal.
SENRI
(Picking up the thread.)
"Then we have a dead end on the reason. The figures know something we don't. What we can address is what's in front of us."
HONJI
"Keep the boys safe. Train them harder."
SENRI
"Yes. The figures said they would return when they've resupplied and gathered more information. That gives us time. Not a lot — but time."
SAKURA
(From where she's sitting beside Hiruma.)
"One week."
She says it into a pause. Everyone looks at her.
SAKURA
"One week off training. Both of them need to heal properly before we ask more of them. The ribs especially — incomplete recovery and Hiruma will compensate and build a bad habit. Seven days."
Alice opens her mouth. Looks at Sakura's face. Closes it.
ALICE
(After a beat.)
"Seven days."
SENRI
"Agreed."
Hiruma looks at his mother. The protest dies somewhere between his chest and his mouth when he reads her expression.
HIRUMA
(Quietly.)
"Seven days."
Sakura nods once. Then she gets up to make tea because that is what she does when something has been settled and the body needs to do something with its hands.
Honji looks at Senri across the room. The look between two men who have handled things together before and are already thinking about what comes after the seven days.
( (Honji) They're coming back. Two magic users at that level, with a specific objective and something pushing them toward it. They won't stop because they lost one engagement. )
( The twins need to be unrecognisably stronger by the time they return. Which means seven days of rest and then the hardest training they have ever done. )
( I trust Senri to build that. But I'm going to have a different conversation with him tomorrow. About what I know and what I've been saving. )
Millin Village — The Road to Senri's Training Ground. Night.
Senri and Alice walk back toward the training ground in the late evening. The village roads are quieter now — the crisis management done, the people who stayed returning to their houses, the first visible repairs already underway at the northern lane.
Torches at the north gate. New ones — not the village's own, brought in.
Three horses. Kingdom livery — the silver-and-blue of the standard Knight deployment, the kind Commander Hibino's orders called for. Five Knights, dismounted, speaking with a cluster of villagers near the gate.
One of the Knights sees Senri and Alice coming down the road and steps forward.
KNIGHT — SENIOR, FEMALE, LATE TWENTIES
(Professional, measured.)
"You two — we're conducting an incident investigation. Can you account for your whereabouts during the—"
She stops.
She is looking at Alice. At the crimson robe — Himiko returned it at the lane — and then at Alice's face and then at the sword at Senri's hip with the specific attention of someone for whom weapons mean information.
Something registers. She looks at the other Knights.
SENIOR KNIGHT
(Changed tone — completely.)
"Stand down."
The other four Knights look at her.
SENIOR KNIGHT
(To them.)
"Bow."
...
The four Knights look at the woman and the swordsman on the road. Then, following their senior's clear conviction about what's appropriate here, they bow.
SENIOR KNIGHT
(To Senri and Alice.)
"My apologies. I didn't recognise you immediately. Alice Vermonta — former Elite Knight of Kirsha, master of Flash Style. Senri Kako — retired from the Lumina advanced ranks, one of the finest swordsmen the Ardenmere region has produced."
She bows herself. Formally. The bow of a soldier who takes the hierarchy of skill seriously and is in the presence of people who exist several rungs above her on it.
ALICE
(Accepting it simply.)
"You don't need to bow. We're retired."
SENIOR KNIGHT
(Straightening.)
"With respect, Vermonta-san — retired doesn't apply to what I just described. The records say—"
ALICE
"What do you need to know?"
The Knight accepts the redirect. Professional.
SENIOR KNIGHT
"The attackers. Description, element usage, approximate skill level, direction of retreat."
Senri steps forward. He gives the report the way he gives everything — precise, no excess.
SENRI
"Two individuals. Black cloaks. Male identifiers on both — one significantly taller and broader, fire element, high control, emotionally driven in combat. The second shorter, water element, analytical, carried a tracking device of unknown design. They retreated north after engagement. Neither was carrying visible weapons."
SENIOR KNIGHT
(Writing.)
"Skill level?"
SENRI
"High. Not Elite level — they were forced to retreat — but above standard competency. Experienced in combined operations. They've worked together before."
SENIOR KNIGHT
"Objective?"
A pause. Senri glances at Alice.
SENRI
"Unknown. They stated their objective was to locate something specific in this village. They were tracking a magical signature. They did not succeed."
SENIOR KNIGHT
(Looking up from her notes.)
"Did they indicate what the signature was?"
SENRI
"No."
He says it cleanly. The gap between what he knows and what he tells the Knights is a decision made in about half a second — the information about the twins' possible dormant elements is not something to hand to a Kingdom Knight conducting a field report before Senri understands it himself.
SENIOR KNIGHT
"Understood. We'll file this alongside the northern village incidents. The pattern is consistent — targeted, specific, retreating when met with significant resistance."
She looks at both of them.
SENIOR KNIGHT
"If you're staying in this area — the Kingdom's patrol will be increased. You'll have support if they return."
ALICE
(Mildly.)
"We're aware. Thank you."
The Knights return to their work. Senri and Alice continue down the road toward the training ground.
They walk in silence for a while.
ALICE
(After a while.)
"Legendary soldiers."
SENRI
(Not breaking stride.)
"Mm."
ALICE
"She said legendary."
SENRI
"I heard."
ALICE
(The dry version of amused.)
"We are retired sword teachers in a small village who just fought two magic users in a burning lane to protect ten-year-old students."
SENRI
(A beat.)
"Legendary sword teachers."
Alice looks at him. He is looking at the road ahead. His expression, as usual, contains almost nothing.
She laughs. Short, genuine.
They walk on.
The Forest Road — North of Millin. Late Night.
Far from the village. Far enough that the smoke from the lane is not visible even if you looked back, which neither of them is doing. The road is dark and the forest is quiet and two people in black cloaks are moving through both at the pace of controlled retreat rather than comfortable travel.
The taller one is favouring their left side. The Howling Tornado left a verdict along the right ribs — not broken, but the kind of impact that makes breathing a conversation between what the body wants to do and what the current position allows.
The shorter one's right arm is still recovering the nerve function that Alice took from it with three precise hits. The feeling has returned mostly — mostly. The fingers close and open at their side, testing, confirming.
They find a clearing off the road. Not large — big enough for two people to sit and a small fire if they needed one. The taller one sits against a tree root. The shorter one stands for a moment, looking back the way they came.
...
The shorter one sits.
For a moment they are simply two people in a dark clearing. Breathing. The adrenaline of the day finishing its slow retreat from the blood.
The taller one reaches up. Takes down their hood.
A man. Large — the size that was suggested by the cloaked silhouette is accurate, maybe more so without the fabric between it and the eye. Bald, the scalp smooth except for one scar that runs from the left temple to behind the ear — old, earned, the mark of something that happened before this career. A strong jaw. Dark eyes that carry the specific quality of someone who operates on force of will more than calculation. His name is Harkon.
He reaches up and rubs the scar with his thumb. He does this when he is frustrated. He has been doing it, hypothetically, for the past hour.
HARKON
(Low. The frustration finding its voice.)
"Six weeks. Six weeks of northern villages and wrong signals and sleeping outside and eating badly. We were there. We were right there."
The shorter one takes down their own hood.
A boy. This is the thing that is surprising about the shorter figure once the hood comes down — not the snow-white hair, though that is striking, a complete and natural white that sits on this face without looking unusual because the face has the composure of someone several years older than ten. The clarity of the grey eyes. The particular stillness of someone who has been this composed for long enough that it has become their natural state rather than a management effort. His name is Minaru.
He is the same age as the twins. He is not, in the ways that matter in this moment, anything like them.
He looks at the device in his hand. The needle is pointing south and east — still locked on the signal it found in Millin, now diminishing with distance.
MINARU
(Even.)
"We found the signal. Two carriers, same location, same age. The device is confirmed working at range."
HARKON
"We found them and couldn't take them."
MINARU
"We encountered unexpected resistance. Two high-class fighters who were not in the village intelligence."
HARKON
(The thumb on the scar.)
"The woman. Flash Style — military grade, not amateur. And the swordsman's technique at that range—"
MINARU
"Splitting Wind. I've read about it in the northern field records. There's only one person confirmed to use it. Senri Kako. Retired from active service, relocated to the Ardenmere region."
HARKON
(Looking at him.)
"You knew who he was."
MINARU
(Meeting the look.)
"I suspected once I saw the technique. Confirming it mid-engagement wasn't a priority."
Harkon is quiet for a moment. The ribs. The scar. The gap between the morning they left on and the night they're sitting in.
HARKON
"We're going to get destroyed when we report in."
MINARU
(Simply.)
"Yes. We underestimated the local support. That's a correctable error — but it's still an error and the report won't omit it."
HARKON
(Dark.)
"He'll be furious."
MINARU
"He's always furious. That's not new information."
A pause. An owl somewhere in the trees ahead.
HARKON
(Looking at the device in Minaru's hand.)
"The signal. It's real."
MINARU
"The signal is real. Two dormant secondary elements in children not yet twelve years old. The device confirmed both. That's not a reading error."
HARKON
"What elements?"
MINARU
(Looking at the device.)
"The device reads presence, not identity. We'd need direct testing to confirm what the dormant elements are. Which requires getting close enough to—"
HARKON
"Which we just proved we can't do with what we brought."
MINARU
"Which we just proved we can't do alone."
He folds the device into his coat. He looks up at the trees — the canopy moving slightly in the night wind.
MINARU
(The statement of someone filing a report in their own mind.)
"We call off the approach. We return. We report what we found, what stopped us, what would be needed to succeed in a second attempt. That's the correct sequence."
HARKON
(Rubbing his neck.)
"He's not going to like the 'second attempt' part."
MINARU
"What he likes isn't our responsibility. The objective is. We found the objective. We need different resources to complete it. That's not failure — that's reconnaissance."
Harkon looks at him. The large man with the scar and the frustration looking at the small boy with the white hair and the composure, who has just reframed a failed mission as a completed reconnaissance with the specific confidence of someone who has decided that the framing is accurate and intends to present it that way.
HARKON
(After a long moment.)
"...How are you ten years old."
MINARU
(Standing, brushing off his coat.)
"Eleven in two months. We should move. The road north is longer than the road south and I want distance between us and that village before morning."
Harkon gets up. Slower than he'd like. The ribs voice their opinion.
HARKON
"Minaru."
The boy stops.
HARKON
(Lower.)
"Those kids. The fire twin and the wind twin. They kept getting up."
Minaru is quiet for a moment.
MINARU
(Something in his voice — not warmth exactly, but acknowledgment.)
"Yes. They did."
HARKON
"Six times. After being knocked down completely each time. At that age, against us—"
MINARU
(Looking north — toward home, wherever that is.)
"They were buying time for the girl to run. They knew they couldn't win. They fought anyway because it was what the situation required."
A beat.
MINARU
(Quietly.)
"Noted. Let's go."
They put their hoods back up. The clearing holds the ghost of two people briefly and then doesn't.
North. Into the dark. Toward whatever is waiting for them there.
The Sato House — Boys' Room. Late Night.
The house is quiet. Honji and Sakura's room — the low breathing of two parents who are asleep because the body insisted, not because the mind is finished. The fire in the hearth down to embers.
The boys' room. Dark.
Hiruma is on his back. His ribs are wrapped and the Recovery Arts did what they could and the rest is time. He is not asleep.
Ayato is on his side. The shoulder is wrapped. He is also not asleep.
The particular silence of two people who are not asleep in the same room and both know it.
HIRUMA
(At the ceiling.)
"Ayato."
AYATO
(At the wall.)
"I'm awake."
HIRUMA
"I know. I just wanted to say your name."
A pause.
AYATO
(After a moment.)
"The tournament is three months away."
HIRUMA
"Yeah."
AYATO
"Seven days off. Then we go back."
HIRUMA
"And we don't stop until we're unrecognisable."
Ayato turns. Looks at Hiruma in the dark.
AYATO
"They called us rare."
HIRUMA
(Also looking at the ceiling.)
"Something we're carrying is rare. Something we don't know about yet."
AYATO
"Does that change anything for you?"
Hiruma thinks about this genuinely. The ceiling. The dark. The village outside that has burn marks in it tonight that weren't there this morning.
HIRUMA
"No."
Ayato looks at him.
HIRUMA
(Turning to meet his brother's eyes.)
"I was already going to train until I couldn't stand. I was already going to the tournament. I was already going to become an Elite Knight and everything after that. Whatever's rare about us — it doesn't change the direction. It just means the direction matters more."
A long beat. The embers in the main room shifting.
AYATO
(Quietly.)
"They'll come back."
HIRUMA
"I know."
AYATO
"Next time they won't underestimate who lives here."
HIRUMA
"Next time we won't underestimate them either."
The dark. The quiet house. Outside — Millin settling into its difficult version of normal, the northern lane marked and damp and the stars above it entirely indifferent.
AYATO
(After a long while.)
"Go to sleep."
HIRUMA
(Closing his eyes.)
"You first."
The room holds the particular silence of two people settling.
Hiruma's breathing evens. Ayato's a few minutes later.
( (Ayato — just before sleep) A dormant element. Something that hasn't woken yet. Something rare enough that people traveled from the north across multiple villages tracking it with a device built specifically to find it. )
( What is sleeping inside us that we don't know about. )
( What wakes it. )
( ... )
Sleep.
The Sato house at rest. Two boys dreaming, or not dreaming, or somewhere between. Their swords on the rack. The wrapped ribs and the wrapped shoulder doing their patient work. The fire ash.
Three months until the tournament. Seven days until training resumes. An unknown number of days until two hooded figures return with more information and different resources.
The twins don't know the count on the last one. They know the other two. They intend to use every day of each.
It is enough to sleep on. It is enough to get up from in the morning.
It is, simply, what comes next.
— * —
End of Chapter 36