Rexi slipped the pursuit like a shadow melting into snow, laid Lucimia flat on the white field, then peeled off her cloak, a night-wing, and draped it over her.

She prowled the slopes like a fox, found a tucked-away cave, and stepped in as if entering the earth’s throat.

She checked for lurking beasts like embers in dark ash, then retraced her steps to drag Lucimia inside.

She slid her hands under the girl’s armpits, locked her shoulders, and hauled her toward the cave, step by grinding step.

“Dammit… so heavy… no, I’m just weak… dammit,” Rexi muttered, her breath steaming like a tired kettle.

Distance stretched like a frozen river; she wanted to quit more than once.

Fear and fatigue tugged at her heart first; she thought, then chose to save Lucimia, moving in starts and stops like a faltering lantern.

She dragged Lucimia into the cave, gathered leaves and branches, and made a rough nest like a bird’s home.

She spread the cloak, set Lucimia on it like placing porcelain on straw.

Done, Rexi dropped onto the ground, panting like bellows.

“Ow—huff… I’m gonna die from this…”

She looked at the still girl; worry pricked like needles. “Right, we need heat.”

“Heat… how? Fire should work, right?”

She ran out, plucked more branches like picking dry bones, stacked stones into a makeshift hearth, and fed it with kindling.

She snapped her fingers; a tiny flame bloomed like a firefly, and she lit the pile.

The cave warmed and brightened at once, amber light pooling like honey.

To keep prying eyes from catching the glow, she plugged the entrance with whatever she could, like cork in a bottle.

In the sealed cave, the bonfire breathed and burned, a red heart thumping.

Had Lucimia seen it, she’d have fainted from fury on the spot; but she was already out cold, blind to Rexi’s reckless craft.

Still, the warmth and light were real; they chased off the cold like wolves, and let Rexi study Lucimia’s face.

“Huh? She’s got a tail? And a third eye? Are all Bloodkin like this? I heard Bloodkin have some battle form—is this it? No clue.”

Curiosity flickered like a cat’s paw; Rexi poked Lucimia’s cheeks and gave the tail a tentative squeeze.

Elsewhere, after blocking a lightning lance with rifts of space like torn mirrors, Lucimia had fainted and slipped into a dream.

She dreamed of the Town of Tranquility, living bright days with her family like spring sun.

Her older brother lived; everyone was there; no Elyssus shadowed the town; she wasn’t a Dark Deity.

Likewise, there was no Yuna and no Desty, a world trimmed clean like a swept yard.

But she didn’t know; dream-Lucimia forgot the truth, floating in sweetness like sugar on water.

She didn’t have to think; she ate as she pleased, slept as she wished, and played as she liked.

Every problem was handled by others, untied like knots under nimble fingers.

Until, in a crack of thunder, Yuna and Desty appeared and scolded her for forgetting them and breaking their promise.

Shame and fear surged first like a black tide; only then did she remember where she really was.

In terror, she snapped her eyes open and shoved herself half upright.

As soon as her eyes opened, she saw black denim shorts and gray tights, two legs straddling her like a bridge.

In the edge of her vision, two pale green strands of hair dangled like willow leaves.

She tracked upward and found a girl with long pale-green hair staring back at her.

Seeing Lucimia awake, the girl’s lazy look flipped to a bright smile like a burst of sun.

“You’re awake!” Her voice was sweet, joy bubbling like syrup.

Lucimia frowned, confusion fogging her thoughts like mist. “What…?”

What’s going on? Why is she sitting on me?

Lucimia’s hands flew, checking herself, her fingers skimming fabric like wings.

Thankfully, nothing was torn or stripped; relief drifted out of her chest like a long sigh.

“Whew, scared me to death—thank goodness,” she breathed.

She was about to ask questions when the other girl lunged to pinch her cheeks, excitement fizzing like soda.

“Gods, how are you this cute? Wow—your skin’s so soft. Let me pinch more. Why so pale? Are all Bloodkin like this?”

Cute? Soft? Pale? Bloodkin? Shock flashed through her like lightning.

What’s with this woman?

Anger flared first, then action; “Stop. Hands off,” Lucimia said, trying to push the pale-green-haired girl.

But her body was weak, strength leaking like sand; she couldn’t stop the eager fingers kneading her face.

Cornered, she snarled, “Pinch me again and I’ll eat you!”

“Eh…” The girl’s hands halted, doubt tilting like a swaying reed. “You mean suck my blood dry?”

Lucimia didn’t answer that; her eyes hardened like ice. “Get off me.”

“Alright, alright,” the girl said, shrugging like a loose coat, and slid off.

Lucimia sat up and finally took in the place.

A sealed cave, a burning bonfire, and thick smoke peeling up like ink.

She shot the girl a look. “If you want a suicide, don’t drag me along.”

“Mm, mm, mm?” Rexi blinked, baffled, then pushed back with a flare of pride like a small flame.

“I’d never try to die! I’ve got a strong will to live, okay? And you talk to me like that? I dragged you in here and built a fire to warm you. It took a lot!”

“Say stuff like that and you’ll hurt my feelings,” she said, hiding her face with her arm like a theatrics curtain.

Lucimia watched her act, speechless at first; then she sighed like wind in pines.

“Fine. Thanks for saving me. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She added, flat and firm: “Don’t light a fire in a sealed cave. You’ll poison us to death.”

“Eh? Why?” Rexi asked, curiosity hopping like a sparrow.

“No why. That’s just how it is,” Lucimia said, too tired for a lecture.

“Then why aren’t we dead?” Rexi pressed.

“You wanna test it?” Lucimia shot back, a cold knife of words.

“Uh… better not. I don’t gamble with my life.” Rexi shrugged, shoulders rising like ripples. “You say so, then so be it. Bloodkin seem to know a lot. I’ll trust you.”

That line snagged in Lucimia’s mind like a hook.

Do Bloodkin really know that much? She wasn’t sure.

She dispersed the fire with a gesture, cleared the blocked entrance, and sent wind magic to sweep the air like a fresh breeze.

Rexi stood aside and watched, eyes bright like stars.

“Your magic doesn’t look like skills etched on a Magic Array,” she said. “You’re just steering the elements. Are you a Ninth Rank Mage?”

“…I don’t know,” Lucimia replied, the words falling like dull stones.

“Alright~,” Rexi said, not bothered, the moment passing like cloud.

Lucimia glanced at her. “What’s your name?”

“Me? Oh, a name~ I don’t really know mine,” she said, blinking like a firefly. “But they all call me Rexi Iveny Eloise. That’s probably my name. You can call me Rexi.”

“And you?”