SAI SHINU
The village faded behind us as we moved quietly along the forest path. Namae kept close, her presence both reassuring and tense. I could feel the weight of what we were about to do pressing on me, but my resolve was firm. Today, it had to happen. Today, I would face him alone.
The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the clearing ahead. The shrine came into view, white and serene against the gold of the late afternoon light. Everything about it screamed peace, a stark contrast to the storm building inside me. Namae slowed, glancing at me with those amethyst eyes, a mixture of concern and silent warning.
"He's inside," I whispered, sensing the faint rustle of robes from the altar. The master was kneeling, hands clasped in prayer, completely unaware of our approach. My heart pounded. I tightened my grip on my blade, feeling the familiar hum of power through my veins.
"Stay back," I told Namae, though my voice was quieter than I intended. "This one… I have to do it myself." She hesitated but nodded, disappearing slightly behind a tree, her eyes locked on me, watching every movement.
I exhaled slowly and activated Shadow Step. One heartbeat later, I was on the stone pathway, mere feet from him. My blade rose, tracing the perfect arc toward his back. The wind whistled past me, and for a moment, I imagined the strike landing cleanly.
But then everything shifted. A subtle movement, almost imperceptible, caught me off guard. He turned his head—just slightly—but it was enough. My slash cut through air. The master's robes barely stirred; he remained kneeling, eyes now open, calm, and unnervingly alert.
I stumbled, my momentum carrying me forward a step too far. My chest heaved, and I ground my teeth, frustration and disbelief flooding me. He hadn't even moved to defend—he had just anticipated.
His voice came, steady, without a hint of surprise. "I was wondering when you'd come."
He rose slowly, almost lazily, picking up his sword as if this was nothing more than a casual meeting. "Sai Shinu… son of the woman who begged for her life in my prison. I wondered if you'd have the courage to face me."
My jaw tightened. "She didn't beg. You broke her."
Only then did he turn, his eyes like tempered steel. "And you think killing me will fix that?"
"It won't fix anything," I said, lowering my stance, letting the shadows coil tighter around my legs, "but it will end something."
His smirk was faint, dangerous. "Then show me what are you really capable of."
The night air outside the village was still, yet it pressed on my chest like an invisible weight. I stood at the edge of the shrine grounds, my hand brushing the hilt of my blade, and for the briefest moment I looked back. Namae wasn't beside me anymore—at least, not in the way she wanted to be. I'd made my choice.
"…I'm sorry," I whispered into the silence, though I knew she couldn't hear me. "This part—I have to do alone."
The ground beneath me rippled like liquid glass as I raised my hand, drawing upon the cores that burned deep in my being—one of light, one of darkness. Their pull was opposite, their balance fragile, but when I forced them into unison, the air tore apart before me.
The Astral Gate opened.
The ground beneath me turned white, a flawless marble floor stretching to infinity. Above me stretched a sky of endless dark, no stars, no moon, only void. A dimension of silence where nothing could intrude. The only sound was my own breath, ragged and uneven.
And standing before the shrine, kneeling, hands pressed together in mock devotion—was him.
Namae's master. My mother's executioner.
His voice broke the silence first, deep and calm, as if he had been waiting for me all along.
"You came."
I gritted my teeth. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my blade until my knuckles ached. "Don't act like this is fate. You should know why I'm here."