Chapter 4 -

  A Warmth In His Arms

  The rustle of parchment, the flutter of birds taking flight into the vast oblivion of the wondrous and vast sky. A newlywed couple stood before the altar—beastman and halfbreed—yet no whispers of dissent passed through the gathered crowd, they couldn’t have. The couple had paved a smooth incline toward the country’s prosperity. Yet, unbeknownst to the people, the nation's descent loomed near, its signs growing ever more prevalent.

  "You may now kiss the bride."

  The priest’s voice, both smooth and calloused with age, carried through the air. A sweet kiss followed, the scent of fresh blossoms and incense weaving into something warm, something sacred.

  I was enchanted by his voice. Once reserved, he had softened—toward me, toward our newly created family. At twenty-one, my –rather– our lives had begun anew.

  The days had blurred into a mish-mash of adventures; joyous and ambitious. We spent time with each other and Rilzi, slowly teaching her how to cope with the world, her past slowly revealed to us.

  Seasons passed. The weight of his hand in mine remained steady, the strength of his arms an unbroken promise. Our new home, our new life, and slowly as days moved into months, a new life was born. Sora Mari.

  The halls of our home carried the scent of aged parchment and morning tea, mingling with the light scent of fresh blossoms from the courtyard. It was peaceful– a little too peaceful for me.

  I sat near the window, its beautiful white sheets flailing around as the wind caressed it, whilst cradling my son in my arms, my bright green eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. He was small, fragile, resting against my chest, wrapped in fine linen. His small horns jutted from his forehead and shared with his father was his heterochromia though his was a mixture of a beautiful bright green and a calming ocean blue. His warmth seeped into me, steady and alive.

  Kaito stood nearby, arms crossed, watching us with that quiet intensity of his. He had always been a man of few words, his emotions locked behind an impenetrable wall, but I had long since learned to read him. And right now, something weighed on him.

  “You should sit,” I murmured, tilting my head towards the space beside me. “Staring isn't going to change anything.

  He let out a slow breath and moved closer, kneeling beside me. He reached out, his calloused though thin fingers brushing the child’s cheek with careful reverence.

  “He looks like you,” he finally said.

  I huffed a small laugh. “You’re only saying that because of the ears.”

  His lips quirked at that–just slightly. It wasn’t a full smile, but it was something. Our child bore traces of both of us– the soft curve of my beastkin features bended with his fathers mixture of human and demon lineage. Slowly he revealed that information to me long ago, himself being a demon. I wasn’t shocked at all by the information, moreso confused, how he managed to stay undercover for so long.

  A quiet presence lingered near the doorway. I had noticed her before Kaito did, her steps as silent as always.

  “Come in, Rilzi,” I said, adjusting my hold on the baby. “You don’t have to stand in the shadows.”

  She hesitated. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t step forward, but she did, her posture stiff.

  She had changed in the past year. Taller now, stronger. The augments in her body had to be replaced and refined by skilled hands, letting her move with more precision, less resistance. She had learned to control them, but I knew she still didn’t fully understand them.

  She stopped beside us, looking down at the child.

  “He’s small,” she said, voice flat.

  I smirked. “Most babies are.”

  She didn't reply. Just stared, head tilting slightly, as if trying to process something unfamiliar. Kaito, always attuned to the weight of silence, finally spoke. “Do you want to hold him?”

  Rilzi blinked.

  She looked down at her hands– metal fingers, reinforced joints, mechanical pieces that had once felt foreign to her. I saw the hesitation in her face, the moment of doubt. “I shouldn’t,” she said, but there was something else in her tone.

  Without another word, Kaito carefully placed the child in her arms. She tensed, her entire body locking up as she felt the weight of him, warm and impossibly fragile against her chest. She had held weapons before, scraps of metal, the cold, unfeeling weight of her own limbs–but never something like this.

  “He’s warm,” she murmured.

  I smiled. “He is.”

  For a moment, she just stood there, holding him like she didn’t know what to do. And then, slowly, I saw something flicker across her face. Not quite emotion–something else. A spark of recognition.

  The moment passed. She carefully handed him back to me, stepping away, retreating into herself once more.

  And just like that, peace began to unravel.

  The first warnings came in whispers. Then in messages passed by weary travelers. The kingdom of Mosiphica was moving.

  Kaito stood in the war chambers of the Kohesian capital, surrounded by men and women clad in military regalia. I stood beside him, my arms crossed, scanning the maps spread across the stone table.

  "They have been expanding their fleets," one of the generals said, tapping a marked position near the eastern isles. "Their naval presence has tripled in the past three months."

  Kaito remained silent, his gaze fixed on the map. He had fought before, years ago, but something about this was different. This wasn’t posturing.

  "They’ve started cutting off trade routes," another officer added. "Our shipments from the southern ports have decreased by nearly forty percent." The emperor’s chief advisor, an older man with silver-threaded hair, leaned forward. "This is not a mere show of strength. This is a deliberate act of war."

  A slow, heavy weight settled in my chest. Kaito and I exchanged a glance. We didn’t speak, but we didn’t need to.

  The inevitable had come.

  The letter arrived weeks later. It was sealed with the Kohesian military insignia—an unmistakable mark of obligation.

  I held the parchment in my hands, my claws digging slightly into the thick material. "They're calling us both."

  Kaito stood across from me, his face unreadable. "I know."

  The words were expected. I had trained for this. Lived for this. And yet, I felt something cold settle in my chest. "Our child is barely a year old."

  Kaito stepped forward, reaching out to take my hand. His grip was steady, grounding. "We will come back." I searched his face, looking for reassurance, but Kaito had never been the type to make empty promises. A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision. Rilzi stood near the door, silent. Watching.

  "You will be alone," I said, turning to her. "Will you be alright?"

  She didn’t hesitate. "I always have been." The words shouldn’t have stung. But they did. The days that followed were filled with preparations. Armor polished. Weapons inspected. Quiet goodbyes.

  And when the day finally came, as we stood at the gates of the Kohesian capital, ready to march toward an uncertain war, I looked back one last time.

  Rilzi stood there, watching us go. She did not cry for she could not. She only watched.

  And for the first time in a long while, I saw something in her eyes. Not just emptiness. Not just indifference. But anger. A small ember, buried deep.

  It pained me to see her so, but as a mother and also as a fighter, I had to let this child grow.

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

  The first night on the battlefield was the worst.

  The scent of blood, acrid and thick, clung to the air like mist. Distant screams echoed between the hills, swallowed by the crackling of fires and the ceaseless howl of the wind. The Mosiphican forces had struck hard and fast, their warships bombarding the coastline before the first blade had even been drawn. Now, the fields before us were littered with the dead, bodies twisted in unnatural shapes, their flesh torn by steel and magic alike.

  I knelt beside a wounded soldier, pressing my hands against his open stomach wound. His intestines bulged through the ragged tear in his flesh, pulsing weakly with every struggling heartbeat. The moment my magic flared to life, knitting his insides back together, his screams turned to gasps. I swallowed down my nausea, the stench of torn entrails thick in my lungs. This was war. Not the glorious battles they sang of in the capital, but a brutal, festering nightmare.

  "Keep still," I murmured, my voice hoarse. "You'll live."

  His glazed-over eyes met mine, filled with pain and something else—relief, perhaps, or just the quiet realization that he had escaped death. Not all were so lucky.

  A soldier beside him convulsed violently, blood bubbling from his lips. His throat had been cut open, nearly to the spine, and he clutched at his own neck, a futile attempt to hold his life inside his body. I reached for him, but I was too slow. His body stiffened, shuddered, and went still.

  "Temyi!" Kaito's voice cut through the madness.

  I turned sharply, spotting him among the clashing swords and charging beasts. His blade was slick with blood, his movements quick and efficient. He parried a Mosiphican warrior’s axe, twisting his body to avoid the second strike before driving his sword straight through the man's gut. The warrior staggered, mouth opening in a silent scream, before Kaito ripped the blade free, sending a spray of crimson across the trampled earth.

  A beast—a Mosiphican warhound, its fur bristling with unnatural spikes—lunged at him from the side. Before I could cry out, Kaito spun, catching the creature by its throat with his free hand. With terrifying strength, he slammed it to the ground and plunged his blade between its ribs. A choked whimper escaped its muzzle before it went limp.

  "Get back!" he shouted at me, but I was already moving.

  Another soldier stumbled toward me, clutching the shattered remains of his arm. Bone jutted through his skin, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I grabbed him before he collapsed, my magic flowing freely into his broken flesh. The wound sealed, though his arm would never be the same. He looked at me, dazed, before scrambling back toward the fray, sword held weakly in his good hand.

  The battlefield was chaos. Kohesian knights clashed against Mosiphican raiders, their armor battered and bloodstained. Spells crackled through the air, bolts of fire and jagged ice colliding in violent bursts. The ground beneath us was slick with blood and filth, bodies piling up faster than I could count.

  Somewhere to my left, a Kohesian soldier screamed as he was lifted into the air by one of the Mosiphican brutes—a massive man wielding a jagged cleaver. The brute roared, bringing his weapon down and cleaving the soldier in two. His entrails spilled onto the earth with a wet splatter, steam rising from his still-warm body.

  I clenched my jaw, bile rising in my throat. I had seen death before. But never like this. Never so relentless, so merciless.

  A shadow loomed over me. I turned just in time to see a Mosiphican foot soldier raise his spear, his expression hidden behind a rusted helmet. Before he could strike, an arrow whistled through the air, piercing straight through his throat. He gurgled, dropping to his knees, hands clawing at the shaft lodged in his flesh. He slumped forward, unmoving.

  A thunderous explosion rocked the field, sending dirt and bodies flying. A Mosiphican battle mage had unleashed a devastating spell, fire licking hungrily at the air. Kohesian soldiers were caught in the blast, their bodies reduced to charred husks in an instant. Kaito barely managed to shield himself, diving behind a fallen beast’s corpse.

  "We’re losing ground!" one of the commanders bellowed.

  I pushed forward, hands glowing as I reached for another fallen soldier. He coughed, blood spurting from his lips, his chest caved in from a warhammer’s blow. I pressed against the wound, pouring every ounce of my magic into him. His bones shifted, repairing, but it wasn’t enough. His breathing slowed, his grip on my arm weakening.

  "Please," he whispered. "Tell my wife—" His eyes glazed over before he could finish.

  I swallowed hard, shoving my grief deep inside. There was no time. No time for sorrow, no time for mourning. Only survival.

  The Mosiphican forces pushed forward, relentless. For every enemy we cut down, another took their place. My hands ached, my magic dwindling with every life I tried to save. I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, more would die. And then I saw him.

  A figure in black armor, standing at the edge of the battlefield, watching. He did not fight. He did not move. But even from a distance, I felt it—something dark, something unnatural. His presence was suffocating, like the air itself recoiled from his existence.

  A warlord. A leader of the Mosiphican forces. His gaze swept across the battlefield before landing on me. My breath hitched. Then he turned and walked away.

  As if he already knew the outcome of this war.

  The air grew colder, an unnatural chill creeping into my bones. And in that moment, as the screams of the dying filled my ears, I realized—we were never meant to win this battle.

  A deafening war horn blasted through the night, shaking the ground beneath us. The Mosiphican forces surged forward with renewed ferocity, a tide of bodies crashing into our battered lines. Steel met steel, flesh met fire, and the battlefield descended into a fresh wave of bloodshed.

  A Mosiphican soldier lunged at me, his curved sword arcing downward. I barely had time to raise my staff before the impact sent a jolt of pain up my arms. Sparks flew as our weapons clashed, the force of his blow nearly knocking me to the ground. He snarled, shoving me back, his breath hot and rancid through his cracked helmet.

  I twisted away as he struck again, his blade whistling past my ribs. I felt the heat of my own blood before I felt the pain—he had grazed me. But there was no time to acknowledge the wound. I raised my hand, magic crackling in my veins, and slammed it against his chest. A surge of raw force erupted from my palm, sending him flying backward. He crashed into the mud, his body twitching before falling still.

  Another enemy took his place. Then another. My limbs grew heavy, exhaustion gnawing at my strength. My magic flickered, weaker with every spell I cast.

  Kaito fought nearby, a storm of movement. His sword flashed, cutting down one enemy after another. Blood soaked his armor, dripped from his fingers, but he did not falter. He carved through the battlefield with relentless precision, a man possessed.

  A bestial roar cut through the din of war.

  I turned just in time to see something monstrous barreling toward Kaito. A Mosiphican warbeast, twice the size of a horse, its hide thick with spiked armor. Its eyes glowed an eerie crimson, and its massive jaws snapped as it lunged.

  "Kaito!" I screamed.

  He pivoted, barely avoiding the beast's crushing charge. The ground trembled as it skidded to a halt, whipping its head around with terrifying speed. It lunged again, its fangs bared, saliva flying as it aimed to rip him apart.

  Kaito ducked, rolling beneath the beast’s bulk, his blade flashing in an arc. He struck its underbelly, slicing deep. The beast howled, staggering, its blood spilling onto the battlefield in thick rivulets. But it did not fall.

  It turned on him again, its rage blinding.

  And then, an arrow.

  A single, precise shot straight through its eye. The beast shrieked, its body convulsing before it crumpled into the blood-soaked mud.

  I followed the arrow’s path. Rilzi.

  She crouched atop a crumbling watchtower, her crossbow still raised. Her expression was unreadable, but I saw the tension in her stance, the flicker of exhaustion beneath her mechanical movements. She was covered in grime and gore, but she did not hesitate. She simply nocked another bolt and fired into the chaos.

  For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

  She shouldn’t be here. Who’s watching Sora?

  I couldn’t ponder on such thoughts, my hands occupied with the constant screams of dying men and the sound of swords clashing among more crimson sprayed out.

  Another explosion rocked the battlefield, and the thought was gone. There was no time for guilt. No time for anything except survival.

  The warlord in black armor had vanished, but his presence lingered like a curse. As if his mere existence was a wound upon this battlefield, festering in the heart of this war.

  I’m tired, my arms feel as if they might fall off, later reattach and fall off again. I’m still trying to heal these men fighting for this country but it hurts all over. It’s getting harder to see and harder to breathe with each step I take.

  When will it end?

  Kaito, efficient as always though starting to wear, stood upon a mass of dead bodies and creatures, presumably all slain by his magnificent display of swordsmanship. He beheaded and de-limbed many, many foe, long before they could even leave a scratch on his perfect body. In the shortest spark of time, another ominous wave of intense aura washed over me and over the battlefield. He finally decided to partake in the action?

  Like a bullet, the Dark Knight came hurling towards Kaito his sword almost the size of any normal man. As he swung, Kaito leaped over his strike, though the force carried behind the blow ripped the battlefield. Sparks of dust, aura, and landmass flew across the battlefield as they clashed swords.

  They were like titans. One swing after another, strong blow after the next. It was incredible to see. Kaito went in for a tight jab at the Dark Knight's ribs but his attack was parried, leaving an opening. The Dark Knight took advantage of this by swinging his sword down, though ultimately, his attack flawed as it was, ultimately leaving Kaito with a scar down his chest.

  I ran over as quickly as I could, tears forming at the outer ridges of my eyes, but he stopped me before I got any closer, unleashing a wave of intense aura. “Don’t come near… it’s not safe Temyi.” Through every word he spoke, a dot of blood followed. “But you're hurt, you need healing immediately.”

  The Dark Knight did not wait for our pestilent charades. He charged with full force and swung.

  The world felt distant.

  Cold to an extent.

  With my final breath, the sky I once loved now filled with the color of blood, and the smells I had long forgotten burned by the scent of rot and mildew, I gave my final words to the man I had truly loved. Please let me see him again.

  “...Kaito… please keep Sora safe,... please don’t become the person… you truly despise.”

  It became impossible to see. Darkness enshrouded my vision, and the glorious light I once saw, faded and faded away. With the rest of my power, before I truly faded, I gave it all to him. Kaito glowed with a beautiful presence, his wound no longer there and his skills refurbished with a new tint.

  A god appeared before me, like a prophet among the sea of dead. He spoke to me, calm and complete.

  “Your wish will be granted, but it comes with a cost.” He spoke out with repose.

  “I don’t care about the cost… I want to see his face again, he might become the person he truly despises without me around… he needs me.”

  “So be it; you will see the man he willith become, dear child of god.”