Medith thought of that letter; her slender fingers fluttered like white swallows and drew the missive free.

“Medith, allow me to call you that; my sin is a millstone, and there’s no dodging it, so I’ll end it in my own way, like a man walking into rain.

You must wonder why a sanctimonious fat pig, a damned traitor like me, keeps doing ‘useless’ things, like tossing pebbles into a dark lake.

Years ago I secretly married a girl; she had just turned sixteen, a spring bud in a cold wind, and yes, she is my wife, whether you scoff or not.

I know what you’re thinking, so call me pervert, call me loli-chaser, hurl stones if you must; I’ll take it like a tree takes hail.

None of that matters now; she met me in a far land, and we fell at first sight like two sparks catching the same tinder in dusk fields.

We held a wedding without rites, under sky and over furrows, and she wore a Fire-Hawk diamond ring, a crest I once dreamed up like a boy tracing stars.

I promised her that when she reached the lawful eighteen, I’d wed her in daylight, and until then I’d hide her away from the world’s knives like a bird under eaves.

I don’t care about slander, only for her; after that age, the law would shelter us like a wall against winter wind, and even hatred would have no teeth.

But the world shifts like sandbars; I thought I could drift out my short remainder in calm water, and months ago, someone particular came to my door like frost at noon.

I won’t say who he is; not in sun, not in shadow; even on my deathbed I won’t say, like a clam sealed by the tide.

He threatened me with my wife’s life, and I refused like a stone refusing the chisel, until he showed me that Fire-Hawk ring, and my sky fell like wet canvas.

I was forced into his design; the allied host’s gear was supplied long before, but truth be told, it was mostly information, like a whisper carrying farther than steel.

I don’t know where their collusion began, nor why their roots mesh like black vines, but I know this: he means to shake the Empire, to rattle this whole continent like thunder over plains.

Before it all broke, I lived haunted, numbing myself with that cold creed—look out for yourself or Heaven and Earth curse you—like drinking brine for thirst.

Then you came, and you stilled that tsunami like a hand over a drum, and my name swelled on the streets like incense smoke in a temple.

That day I paraded loudly, on purpose, to make my trail seem daylight-straight, like leaving footprints on clean snow, but…

These ‘low-born’ crowded me and stuffed my hands with ‘trash’—salted fish, dried fish, a simple bracelet—little rivers feeding a single cup.

I hung them in my bedroom, and tears fell on their rough gleam like rain on tin, and I didn’t know why the sky broke inside me.

Before the walls fell, I used my office to transfer the silver crossbows and the repeaters; the captains tried to refuse, then swallowed it for the sake of my fresh-painted face.

I brought them food and wine every day, like a dog bringing bones to a campfire, and we grew close, and I meant it when I drank with them under the lantern glow.

I loved their open-handed ways like a breeze loves grass, but then Sinis came, and he suggested we use that warmth as a weak seam, like prying at a frozen door.

So… I did it; I could only do it, with eyes on me like hawks circling; I used this flesh as bait and poisoned the four captains in wine and meat.

They died not understanding why I salted their cups with death, like fish staring up from a net, and I watched Niipu die and saw my sin burn like pitch.

Right then I chose my death; I’d split open this fat heart like a rotten pomegranate, a petty, petty apology to men who laughed with me.

After that, your intelligence? Mine; the Blackblood War Chariot? I tampered with it, and those fools hadn’t seen one in ages, like farmers poking a cannon.

All I did was snap one draw-cord, no more; the new Blackblood War Chariot fires even with one, but time was a whip at my back.

The place they penned the prisoners, that was my idea; they didn’t dare butcher them, couldn’t even clear corpses, because plague would be a wolf at their own throat.

So they gave me full charge, which fit my mask like a glove, and they never guessed I’d buried keys beneath every cage like seeds under loam.

On the night war broke like storm glass, I slipped them a warning, and thank the dark they weren’t fools; late, but their eyes opened like lamps.

With luck, they’d pin the Mountain Bandits’ main force, because Skaro’s flanking path was also my suggestion, and from what I see, I didn’t misread the wind.

Medith, I truly hope you’re safe; truly, I like you, I like all of you, and I revere His Majesty like a pillar in a hall I don’t deserve.

This matter is a knot of snakes, too tangled to tease apart; I advise you: do not get dragged into this war, like a silk sleeve into gears.

If you win it, promise me this: forget this, and return to your heaven, your high country; with you there, Xurenxus City can sleep like a babe.

Lastly, my wife’s name is Namelia; she has flame-red hair like a torch in dusk; if I die, she’ll likely be released soon, like a bird from a snare.

I hope he keeps his word; if not…

I’ll curse him in hell like a bell that never stops ringing.

Do not get tangled in this dispute; this is our war; do not, do not, like a warning carved on a cliff.

Sinner: Powell.”

...

“Who do you think could make even Powell not dare to defy?” Medith’s face was storm-dark; the letter laid out the weave, but the key thread, Powell never named.

Haidra and Delaia sat rigid, fingers laced like locked roots, and silence pooled around them like a cold pond.

Medith knew the weight here outran their first tally; this war was only a horn blast; ‘he’ would make larger waves, like a glacier calving into the sea.

...

11.15, 21:34. The girls had showered early, steam fading like white mist, and collapsed onto the soft bed that held them like a cloud.

“Ah—never thought sleep could be this sweet,” Milia hugged a pink pillow like a warm cat, and tears slipped like beads from a broken string.

“Where’s Iling?” Medith sat cross-legged on the bed in soft pajamas, quiet as a lantern behind paper.

Sais brushed a hand through Medith’s snow-white hair like wind through frost: “She’s fine. The medics moved fast, and their hemostatic powder bites like ice.

We steadied her at noon, and if we push tomorrow, she’ll be back on her feet, like grass after rain.”

“Mmm...” Medith’s gaze fell like a leaf, the mind drifting to some far shore.

Sais knelt before her, caught that smooth hand like silk, pain in her eyes first, words after: “Are you okay? You’ve been somewhere else, like smoke.

Are you hurting anywhere?”

Medith slipped her palm free like a fish escaping a net: “I’m fine… just… it died… for me,” grief first, breath after.

“Who died?” the girls looked at one another, confusion flitting like swallows.

Medith shook her head: “You wouldn’t understand… it was only a pitiful ‘person,’ that’s all,” her voice like a lid over boiling water.

Silence spread; too many of Medith’s miracles broke sense like lightning splits trees; near-death to full strength, and Manto didn’t faint on the spot only by luck.

“Don’t overthink. Sleep first, okay?” Sais cupped Medith’s small face like holding a candle, all tenderness and tide.

“Let’s sleep. This continent… is far more tangled than I thought,” Medith remembered what Nessos had said, the words like iron rings: “Medith, you won, but this land isn’t simple.

We’re all trapped, and I’m only clawing for a way out, like a fox gnawing its leg.

You, me, we’re just pieces on a board; one day, when you reach the world’s edge, you’ll understand,” the voice echoing like wind on a cliff.

“So that’s… it,” Medith breathed, a winter clarity in her chest; “I burned my whole life, buried my fate with my own hand, and bought only a ‘ticket’ like a ferry token.”

“Fall back! Fall back! Fall back!” a memory crashed like surf.

“Damn, it’s a trap!” another cry snapped like a bowstring.

“Medith Waheit, is that all?” a cold voice slid like a knife.

Medith’s mind snapped awake like a bell struck with ice: “Oh? So the game hasn’t even begun?” her blood steadied like a river after flood.

“Fine then. You, me, Nessos, we’re all just pieces; if that’s the board, I’ll play it to the end, like a blade dancing in rain.

Whoever you are, whatever you plan for us, come on then; I’ll gather every Divine Stone, reach the world’s end like a traveler seeking dawn, and bring Xier back.”

She swore it in silence; her nails bit into flesh like thorns, and her eyes fixed on the window like stars pinning the night.

“Heh-heh—hahaha—hahaha—!” she seemed to hear that arrogant laughter roll along the dome of the sky like thunder over a vault.