Under a sky strewn with stars, Medith leaned against the window ledge, watching playful chaos like a kindly elder at a courtyard game. White sleepwear traced inviting curves, her languor a soft ripple in moonlight.
Sais tiptoed behind her, a sneaky jab like a darting fish. Medith had expected it; her slender hand snapped down, pinning Sais still like a hawk claiming prey.
“Ow—ow—mercy, sis...” Sais yelped. Medith let go with a calm smile. Sais swatted her with a pout, but the touch bloomed with affection, a warm ember under the night.
The weight came first, the breath tight in her chest. Sais remembered the old days—centuries by the Queen’s side, no wars, just chatter and a daily Sip, idle sunlight without substance, sweet yet unreal, like a dream that never woke.
“Since you came, the city changed,” she said, a laugh in her voice like wind through leaves. “No one drifts in fog anymore. We patrol, we train, we get yelled at—yet I can’t stop smiling.”
Medith wrapped an arm around her slender waist. Sais melted into her shoulder, a quiet spring settling into its riverbed, contentment glowing like lanterns.
“This is a life,” Medith said, the resolve first, then the breath. “Each step picks up weight. Some get crushed under it. Some use it to arm themselves and climb to the summit.”
“Even if the road ahead is dark, even if hard choices cut like cold rain, as long as you’re here, I’ll stand at the front. I’ll carve a path, be your sun, until—we call down Eternal Summer.”
Her face hardened into steel; her eyes held dawn. Truth poured out, simple and burning. Sais trembled, full-body devotion, then kissed and nipped at Medith’s pale, tender neck, a blossom of heat.
Medith didn’t answer with fire; she smoothed Sais’s hair like a river hand. “Not tonight. Time is long. We’ve got all the chances in the world.”
Sais nodded, shy and crimson, a sapling in spring rain. “Hey… did you know Elvenfolk can have children between same-sex partners?” She curled against Medith on the bed, voice a hush like falling petals.
“Mm?!” Medith jolted; surprise flashed, colors shifting like sunrise. “What’s the condition?”
Sais bit her lip, playful starlight in her eyes. She pinched Medith’s nose. “Not telling. I want you itching.”
“Oh-ho?” Medith perked up, the hunter’s spark returning. “You won’t say? Then I won’t touch you. I don’t even want kids anyway.”
“You dare?!” Sais flared like a struck nerve; her face drained pale as snow. Medith surrendered with a laugh, letting the quarrel melt like frost at noon.
Night fell, and the continent rolled in stormy winds. Some mourned; some burned themselves for a goal; some served for love; some bowed to faith, hearts lit like candles in a gale.
They shouted, they roared, they cursed what would not rise. They hated fate’s crooked hand, their own weakness, and the ruthless tide of humankind.
Either way, Medith’s arrival had pried at the continent’s bedrock, nudging a butterfly’s flight toward a different sky.
The Lina Sisters clung to Nameless, legs tight as if caging a comet. Their faces were dazed, sated, happy, a vintage afterglow.
Talant and Haidra still lay awake, gazes fixed on the palace, expressions layered like clouds before rain.
Milia pressed a troubled girl beneath her, and with gentle strokes like lullabies, guided her into trance. The girl’s eyes misted, cheeks flushed with spring.
For the moment she forgot the beloved she longed for day and night, unaware that, in Sia City’s battle, someone cast all aside to save everyone. Their brief days together left a mark etched onto her soul.
...
8.9. Medith donned gear for the road. The crowd wore firm smiles, steady and bright. The plan had been full mobilization; after weighing it, Medith left Nora and her group to hold the city. This march would bring Nameless and Yunita; the rest were the Elders.
It wasn’t favoritism. Peggy had been hardened by trials; Nora came from iron-blooded ranks. Resources should tilt their way. Yunita had trained under Milia lately—still rough, but finally taking shape like clay finding form.
“I won’t drag this out. You know how I am,” Medith said, iron in her gaze. “But trust me—this time, I’ll lose nothing.” Her Dusk Cloak burned like a shard of sunset.
“Mm! We believe you!” Nira stood at the gate, spirited like a rising star. Nora kept easy company; Peggy nodded with a soft smile. Olivya chuckled, wind in her chest. “Then, General, bring back some northern specialties.”
“I’ve heard the Northern Kingdom breeds iron cavalry. The Silverfang Knights under them are peerless—rumor says the Southern Kingdom won’t face a full legion of a hundred thousand Silverfang Knights head-on.”
“If possible, you could… work them.”
“Silverfang Knights?” Medith’s eyes flashed with appreciation, talent-love surfacing like fish in clear water. Sais sighed, shaking her head—old habits kicking in again.
She sent a warning look; trouble would sprout from that seed. Sais glanced at Olivya, whose gaze slid aside, innocence pinned on like a veil.
“Dusk Legion—” Medith roared. Her voice thundered across the city, echoing off walls like drums. Within half an hour, thousands in white surged into the squares.
They saw Medith and emotions bloomed—awe, devotion, dread, relief—but mostly resolve, a mountain line set in faces. A good legion shows its steel not only in war, but in the cadence of daily drill.
“I’m your Commander. Here, ‘Commander’ is just a title.”
“Bodies perish. Even the Elf Clan, loved by nature, turns to dust with time. But—”
“Our will does not erode. Our spirit will carry on, seeded in ages.”
“Etch this shard of Crimson Sun—this effort to pierce the Black Sun—into your minds. I’m not your sole commander; I’m a guide.”
“If I fall, Milia rises. If Milia falls, Iling rises. If Iling falls, there will be thousands of Mediths to rise.”
“Truth is, the continent’s pattern has shifted. Most of you feel it already. I don’t care why you joined me. If you’re wearing this white, you’ll serve the Dusk Legion well.”
“Our will endures through ages. May the world see no more slaughter—”
“Oh—oooh—”
“Crimson Sun! Crimson Sun! Crimson Sun—”
Medith raised her sword and cried; the army surged into chorus, voices like breakers. Nora lost herself in it, a vision she had never seen and had always dreamed.
“Dusk Legion, move out—” Medith finished, and the warhorses leapt like loosed arrows. The ranks became streaks of green light and vanished across the plain.
“This time, they’ll return safe—absolutely, safely…” Nira waved goodbye, tears slipping of their own will, while her smile blossomed like a flower after rain.
