A few quiet weeks passed, marked by soft rhythms and steady healing. Mika's days were devoted to reclaiming her strength — both of body and mind — within the tranquil confines of the White Wolf Main Mansion.
It was during this recovery that she truly came to know the man who had saved her life — and inexplicably taken her under his protection: Lord Shinji Karou, Patriarch of the White Wolf Clan, one of the most secretive and revered bloodlines in all of Fulaina.
Despite the destruction she had wrought in Andania — and the Elders' unease over harbouring her — Shinji and his family had shown her nothing but patience and kindness. It made no sense. Why would a nobleman of such power take in someone as dangerous as her?
Mika had tried asking him more than once. But each time the question rose, Shinji was gone — called away to another endless Clan meeting. His days were relentless, his nights short. She would see him only at dawn before his departure, and again long after the stars had claimed the sky. Yet every evening, no matter how burdened he seemed, he greeted her with that same calm, steady gaze — the kind that grounded her against her own doubts.
Their shared moments became quiet rituals: words exchanged over tea, short walks beneath moonlight, and idle conversations carried by the flicker of lanterns across stone halls.
One evening, while the mansion slept and the moonlight painted silver bars across the tatami, Shinji finally spoke of his Clan's most sacred belief — the Rite of the Chosen Apprentice.
At first, Mika listened with curiosity. The idea of passing one's legacy to a hand-picked successor sounded noble, even romantic. But as he spoke, the air grew cold, heavy with something ancient.
"A Chosen Apprentice," Shinji began, voice low and deliberate, "is not merely a successor. They are a tether — a bond forged by instinct. It isn't something you choose; you simply... know. Like a pull in your gut."
He folded his hands, his tone deepening, older somehow — as if reciting scripture. "Once bonded, the Apprentice trains directly under their Master. They inherit not only skill, but burden. When the bond is strong, both grow stronger. But it's never without danger. Sometimes, a Master must end their Apprentice if they fall to corruption. And there are darker times still, when an Apprentice dies defending the one they serve."
His violet eyes lifted, steady and solemn. "When that happens, most Masters never take another. The wound never heals. Likewise, if a Master dies, the Chosen Apprentice carries their legacy — until the next Head of Clan is appointed."
Mika's breath caught. A chill crept up her spine.
Then came the words that shattered the quiet.
"The bond chose you, Mika. Not me. But I'll honour it — if you will."
The world tilted.
Before he could say another word, she was gone — the scrape of a chair, the rush of footsteps, the door slamming into silence.
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