The voice, a high, thin whisper fragile as dried leaves, sliced through Anna's tirade. The makeshift door creaked open, and a small face, pale and drawn, peered out.
"Sister? Do we have a guest?"
Anna froze solid. Every ounce of anger, every bit of fire, drained out of her in an instant. The fury on her face shattered, replaced by a stark, naked terror that made August's blood run cold.
The girl who stepped out from the shack's shadow was like a ghost image of Anna. She was only a little shorter, with the same wiry frame, but where Anna was all sharp angles and coiled energy, this girl was softened by a visible fragility.
A hint of medium breasts pushed against the thin fabric of her simple dress. Her fiery red hair was longer than Anna's, falling in a straight, dull sheet past her shoulders.
She was impossibly pale, the skin of her face stretched thin over delicate cheekbones, as if she hadn't seen the sun in years.
But it was her eyes that held him captive. They were a startling, luminous gold, a stark contrast to her sister's emerald green.
August's jaw hung open. It was like looking at a different version of Anna, one drawn with a less certain hand. "Who…?" he began, the word dying on his lips as his brain struggled to connect the pieces.
"Ella! What are you doing out here? Get back inside, now!" Anna's voice had changed completely.
The venom was gone, replaced by a soft, urgent command, the tone of a worried nurse fussing over a patient.
She rushed to her sister's side, her hands hovering as if afraid to touch her. "The air is damp. You'll catch a chill. Go on, back to bed."
The girl, Ella, offered a weak but stubborn smile. She ignored Anna completely, her golden eyes fixed on August. "You're making my sister shout. She only shouts when she's scared or angry."
She took a small, shuffling step forward. "You must be August."
Just as Elmarie began to extend a pale, slender hand, Anna spun around and slammed a hand into August's chest, shoving him back a step. "He's leaving," she hissed, her eyes wild with panic. "He was just leaving, Ella. Go back inside."
Elmarie didn't even flinch. She kept her hand extended towards August, her gaze unwavering. "I am Elmarie," she said, her voice quiet but carrying an odd resonance in the filthy alley. "It is a pleasure to finally meet the famous partner."
"Ella, please," Anna begged, her voice a flustered whisper.
She tried to push August again, but it was half-hearted, a desperate, failing gesture. "He doesn't need to be here. This is our place."
Elmarie's gaze flickered to Anna for a single second. It wasn't angry or commanding. It was a look of immense, quiet weight, a look that seemed to say, 'Stop.'
August watched, mesmerized, as the fight drained out of Anna like sand from a broken glass. Her hand fell from his chest. Her shoulders slumped in utter defeat.
The fierce, street-smart survivor he knew vanished, leaving a tired, scared older sister in her place.
August stood rooted to the spot, his mind reeling. A sister. A secret, sickly sister hidden in a rotting shack in the worst part of the city. This was the secret she was protecting. This was why she ran.
Anna...? Why didn't you ever tell me?
His foolish, clumsy pursuit suddenly felt ten times more violating. He didn't know how to react. His gaze darted from Anna's panicked face to Elmarie's calm, expectant one.
Running was no longer an option. He had stomped all over Anna's secrets, and now one of them was standing right in front of him, inviting him in.
Slowly, he reached out, bypassing Anna's defeated form, and took Elmarie's hand. It was shockingly cold, the skin as dry and soft as old parchment.
He gave it a gentle shake, afraid to apply any pressure. "I... yes. I'm August." He finally found his voice, though it sounded rough to his own ears. "It's nice to meet you, Elmarie."
A genuine smile touched Elmarie's lips, making her pale face glow for a moment. "Please," she said, her voice retaining its whispery quality as she gently pulled her hand back. "Come inside. It's not much, but you are welcome in our home."
August ducked his head as he followed Elmarie inside, his shoulders barely clearing the low-slung doorway. The air within was thick with the smells of candle wax, damp earth, and sickness. It was a single, cramped room.
The city's paving stones served as the floor, uneven and cold underfoot. Against one wall were two sad-looking mattresses, little more than dirty sacks stuffed with straw, each covered by a thin, torn blanket.
A few sputtering candles on a crate provided the only light, their weak flames dancing in the draft.
In a corner, however, stood a small wooden table and two simple but sturdy chairs. They looked newer than everything else in the shack combined, their clean lines a stark contrast to the surrounding decay. They were a small island of decency in a sea of squalor.
"Please, sit," Elmarie offered, gesturing to one of the chairs with a sweep of her thin hand.
August felt a hot wave of shame. He was an intruder here, a clumsy bull who had crashed through the fragile walls of their secret life. He couldn't possibly sit. "No, I'm fine standing," he said quickly, then glanced at Anna, who was hovering by the door like a cornered animal. "You should sit, Anna."
She shot him a venomous glare, the stink eye to end all stink eyes, but the fight had gone out of her. With a tired sigh, she walked to the table and sank into the chair, her posture stiff and defensive.
Elmarie smiled gently at August, her kindness a stark contrast to her sister's prickly hostility.
"Thank you," she said, her voice soft but clear in the quiet room.
Her golden eyes were direct and held no trace of lies. "For everything. Those chairs… they mean I can sit without my back aching for an hour after. The stew you helped Anna afford last week was the first time I'd tasted real meat in a month. So, thank you."
"Don't!" Anna snapped, her head whipping up. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy air.
"Don't you dare tell him any of that, Ella. He doesn't need to know!" She turned her fiery gaze on August, her jaw tight. "We have a business relationship. That's all. What I do with my share is my business. It has nothing to do with you."
It was a desperate attempt to rebuild the wall he had just broken through, a wall her own sister was now dismantling brick by brick.
A mischievous glint appeared in Elmarie's golden eyes. She tilted her head, her directness softening into playful teasing. "A business relationship? Is that what it is?" she clapped back, her voice light.
"Business partners don't blush six shades of red when you say their name. You come back from your 'meetings' and spend an hour dissecting every single stupid joke he tells. That's not business, Anna."
A deep crimson blush flooded Anna's face, crawling up her neck. "Ella, I swear to all the gods—" She shot up from her chair, lunging at her sister and clamping a hand over her mouth.
"Mmphf—stahp!" Elmarie protested, her words muffled. She giggled, her thin arms coming up to playfully bat at Anna's. It was a familiar, practiced dance.
For a moment, the tension shattered, revealing the deep, unconditional love beneath. This was their dynamic, Anna, fierce and flustered, trying to control everything with frantic energy; and Elmarie, meeting it all with a calm, knowing patience that was far beyond her years.
Then, Elmarie's playful struggles ceased. She gently pulled Anna's hand away from her face, and the smile was gone, replaced by a sudden, sharp frown.
Her gaze had turned chilly. "Wait," she said, her tone shifting to one of dawning, genuine anger. "You never told him about me, did you?"
Anna froze, caught. She dropped her hands and took a step back, her gaze falling to the grimy floor. She looked like a child caught with her hand in the honey pot. "It's… it was complicated, Ella."
"Complicated?" Elmarie's voice rose, laced with real hurt. It wasn't the shriek of a tantrum, but the low, piercing sting of betrayal.
"I'm not a secret, Anna. I am not some shameful flaw in your plans that has to be hidden away. He's your partner. He deserves the truth, not a web of things you decide he's allowed to know."
"It wasn't like that!" Anna sulked, wrapping her arms around herself. "It wasn't the right time! He didn't need to know… about all this." She gestured vaguely at the miserable room, at herself, at her sister.
The excuses were lame, and they all knew it.
Elmarie's anger seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a profound, hollow stillness.
She had made her point.
Now, she would deliver the truth that Anna couldn't. She looked from her sister's distressed face to August's stunned one.
She sighed, a sound that seemed too old and weary for her small frame.
"He needs to know why you're so desperate," she stated, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. She met August's eyes, and the world seemed to shrink to the space between them.
"I have Mana Sickness," she said, the words falling into the silence like stones into a deep well.
"And in a few years, I'm going to die."