---
By morning, the rain had stopped, but the streets remained slick with memory. Mist clung to the cobblestones like a second skin. Rin walked with purpose, her cloak drawn tight, the decoded letter clutched in her hand. Every step echoed a thousand questions in her head—but one line screamed louder than the rest:
"To die twice is a choice."
And the margins… those symbols.
She reached the Imperial Barracks before the sun had fully crested the palace spires. Soldiers didn't stop her anymore—not since Kael had made her presence official. They saluted stiffly, avoiding her eyes. Maybe it was the blood still under her fingernails. Maybe it was the weight she now carried.
Kael was already waiting inside the medical wing, leaning against the doorframe with that unreadable expression she was beginning to hate.
"You're late," he said.
"I'm thoughtful," she replied, brushing past him.
The second body lay in silence, wrapped in ceremonial cloth—another noble, another lifeless shell. But even before she unwrapped it, Rin knew what she'd find.
The warmth.
The faint hum beneath the skin.
The alchemical mark.
She peeled the cloth away carefully, heart steady despite the nausea crawling up her throat. Her fingers traced the sigil burned just below the wrist—nearly identical to the one Lord Isamu bore. And once again, the blood shimmered beneath the veins, just for a moment, like moonlight reflected in still water.
Kael stood behind her, watching.
"That's two," he said.
Rin nodded. "Same pattern. Same glow. But there's something different about this one."
"Explain."
She reached into her satchel, pulling out the decoded letter. Shion had given her the basics last night, but the final piece—what the symbols pointed to—she hadn't dared look at until now. With trembling fingers, she opened the parchment and spread it out on the table beside the body.
"There's a sequence," she said. "Four glyphs—meant to lead somewhere. At first, I thought it was a map. But it's not. It's a cipher chain. Old imperial dialect, crossed with alchemical sigils."
Kael raised a brow. "You speak Old Imperial?"
"I bleed it," she muttered.
He didn't ask what she meant. Smart man.
Rin tapped one of the margins. "This symbol here—it's the Seal of Triaxis. Meant to guard forbidden texts. But combined with the next glyph—this curve? It becomes directional. A location marker."
Kael leaned in, interest piqued. "Where does it point?"
"A noble estate," Rin said softly. "Abandoned since the fire thirteen years ago. The Arakawa Family. They were known for their alchemical studies—until the Empire shut them down. Labeled their work dangerous. Heretical."
"I remember," Kael murmured. "There were rumors of experimentation. Not just chemicals—rituals. Sacrifices."
Rin nodded. "And now someone wants us to go there."
Kael folded his arms. "You think this is a trap?"
"I think it's a trail. The question is—are we following it, or playing into someone's hands?"
Kael was quiet for a moment. Then he turned and walked to the window, his gaze cutting through the rising mist outside. "Pack light. We leave in an hour."
"Don't you want to know what the rest of the symbols mean?"
"I'll find out when you tell me."
She narrowed her eyes. "You trust me now?"
"No," he said. "But I'm beginning to believe you hate being wrong more than you hate me."
She couldn't argue with that.
---
They rode out by midday, traveling under cloaks and silence. The road to the Arakawa estate had long since fallen into disuse—overgrown paths, gnarled roots, and a fog that thickened with each passing mile.
Rin felt it first.
That prickle at the base of her neck. A tension in the air, like walking into a room where someone had just whispered your name.
Kael rode beside her, his eyes scanning the trees constantly.
"You feel it too," she said.
He didn't answer right away. Then: "We're being followed."
Rin's grip tightened on the reins. "How long?"
"Since we left the capital. Not close. Not sloppy. But there."
She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing but mist and trees. "Why not confront them?"
"Because they haven't made a move yet. And I want to know why they're waiting."
They fell into silence again. The estate loomed ahead, hidden behind overgrown hedges and a rusted gate that hung askew. Weeds crept through the ironwork like veins, and the sign above it—once gilded—was now faded into rust and ash.
ARAKAWA.
Kael dismounted first, sword drawn, steps cautious.
Rin followed, one hand already hovering near her pouch of emergency herbs and defensive compounds. The moment her boots touched the cracked stone path, the wind shifted.
It whispered.
Not words—but memory. Soot. Blood.
A warning.
Kael's jaw tensed. "Stay behind me."
"Try and stop me."
The doors creaked open under Kael's push, revealing a grand foyer choked in dust and shadow. Cobwebs hung like curtains. Paintings had decayed into warped impressions of faces, their eyes blackened out with mold.
And then Rin saw it—a mark etched into the stone floor. Familiar. Wrong.
The same glyph as the letter… drawn with blood.
Kael knelt, touching the edge. "Fresh."
Rin felt the sickness in her stomach return. "Then someone's still here."
She stepped deeper into the house, every creak of the floorboards echoing like footsteps not her own. Her fingers brushed the edge of a shattered mirror. In its fractured reflection, her face was divided—two versions of herself staring back.
One afraid.
One ready.
Behind her, Kael spoke softly. "What did Shion really say to you?"
She didn't answer right away.
Then: "He told me this place listens."
Kael frowned. "Listens to what?"
Rin looked around slowly, then back at the glyph on the floor.
"To blood. And to those who've died… more than once."
---