Magical pressure rippled through the square like an invisible wave.
"Close your mouth and lower your sword."
The command struck Cain with the weight of iron chains.
His jaw snapped shut as if zipped.
The ornamental blade clattered down, point buried in the dirt.
That was Word Magic. It was rare, absolute, and impossible to fake.
I alone remained untouched, free to study the speaker.
Glossy black hair cascaded to her waist, each strand catching the sun like polished obsidian.
Her dress shimmered with threads of silver and midnight silk, cut with the precision of royal tailors.
A simple band circled the index finger of her left hand.
Phantom Ring.
I had owned one once, then gifted it away in a moment of careless generosity.
"Give me an opportunity to justify myself." Cain struggled to mutter
The girl's voice softened, but the magic lingered.
"Allow me to open my mouth."
Cain's lips parted with a gasp.
"Now release me! I am the third son of House—"
"It's the client who requested escort to Etal."
She cut him off, calm as winter steel.
"The Storz family sent a replacement. A mistake, I presume."
Cain paled to parchment.
The girl continued, tone velvet over steel.
"I will allow you to accompany us to preserve your house's reputation. Next time, I report you."
He nodded, sweat beading on his brow.
The square exhaled.
"You're above this."
Her gaze pivoted to me, sharp enough to pin moths.
"Next, you."
"Eh, me too?"
I raised both hands in surrender.
"Obviously."
She folded her arms, the picture of maternal disapproval.
"The other was wrong, yet you provoked him. Was that wise?"
"…Sorry."
I shrank like a scolded child.
The lecture stretched for what felt like forty days and forty nights.
When my soul hovered on the edge of nirvana-by-boredom, she relented.
"I still have more to say. Ride in my carriage."
Pitying stares followed me as she marched me away.
No negotiation, no escape.
~
The carriage interior smelled of cedar and rosewater.
Cushions swallowed me whole.
Across from me sat the girl, "Fina," she said, though the name tasted like an alias.
"I cannot reveal my true name for reasons."
She folded her hands in her lap, posture perfect.
"But call me Fina."
"Jirei Laro."
I offered a lazy salute.
"My apologies for the abduction."
Her smile warmed the air.
"I only wished to ask you something."
I braced for another sermon.
Instead, curiosity flickered in her violet eyes.
"Where are you from?"
"Arrow Village. Middle of nowhere."
Her brow creased.
"In the village… was there anyone else with black hair? Anyone who wore a mask?"
I scratched my cheek.
"Only me. No masked weirdos."
Disappointment shadowed her face.
Black hair was rare; black hair and eyes, rarer still.
My bloodline carried the trait like a stubborn weed.
"By the way," I added, "some black-haired hero popped up in Etal recently. Caused a riot."
Fina shot upright, carriage rocking.
"Yes! Finally! He's finally appeared!"
Her voice cracked with joy. "This time… this time it must be him! I can finally meet…" She clasped her hands to her chest, eyes shining like twin amethysts. "My destined person!"
The caravan lurched forward, wheels rumbling over cobblestones. Sunlight slanted through the curtains, painting gold across her face. She stared out the window, lips parted in quiet wonder.
"I've waited so long," she whispered. "Every rumor, every whisper of black hair and unmatched power… I chased them all." Her fingers traced the Phantom Ring, a soft smile blooming.
"One day, I will stand before him." Her voice steadied, resolve hardening like forged steel. "And I will thank the man who saved a terrified child."
The road to Etal stretched ahead, five days of dust and danger. Fina leaned back, eyes distant but bright. She hoped, with every beat of her heart, to meet her destined person.