I froze.
The jar was small—hand-sized, round, sealed with a black-and-gold charm that shimmered faintly whenever the horned man breathed. Inside, the flame drifted lazily, swirling in slow, deliberate arcs like a creature pacing inside a cage too small for its own nature. Its glow painted his fingers in molten gold, casting flickers along the edges of his rings and bracelets until it looked like the jewelry itself had begun to whisper with light.
"The Golden Flame…" I breathed.
My throat tightened around the words.
"The one that cost me an eye…?"
He hummed, low and soft, like someone pleased I remembered.
"Yes. That little thief really had no right to take your payment."
His smile sharpened ever so slightly—polite on the surface, but carrying that subtle, predatory gleam that reminded me he wasn't human and had never bothered pretending to be. The air around him shifted, golden smoke unfurling like warm breath fogging a cold window.
"I simply reclaimed what was lost," he said.
"Reclaimed?" I blinked. "When did you even—? How did—?"
He shrugged elegantly, letting that strange smoke drift off his shoulders like lazy clouds stretching after a long nap.
"This Parade obeys me," he said. "And everything within it shares its pulse with me. Nothing inside these streets escapes my notice."
Then he tilted his head, and the lanternlight slid down the length of his antlers like a golden waterfall.
"Besides," he added lightly, "falsely claiming a guest's payment is a personal offense."
Guest…?
Guest? He considers me a guest?
Not prey? Not entertainment? Not some idiot who almost donated an eyeball to a jar?
My grip tightened on the glass. Something in the flame brightened—almost like it sensed me, recognized me.
I swallowed. "…Thank you. But honestly… what does this flame actually do?"
A slow smile curved his lips. Not teasing. Not mocking.
Almost… approving.
He lifted his hand, letting me place the jar in his palm. He held it between us with reverence—like he was presenting a relic, not an object. The flame inside curled toward him, then toward me, as if curious which of us it belonged to.
"This," he said, "is not a weapon, nor a curse. It is a promise waiting for a name."
A chill trickled down my spine.
He tilted the jar slightly. The flame rippled toward the angle of the glass, reacting like a living heartbeat made of gold.
"『The Binding Ember』 attaches itself to intent," he explained. "Whoever ignites it becomes the rightful claimant of whatever they touch in that moment."
"Claimant as in—property?" I asked slowly.
His eyes glimmered with amusement.
"No. Claimant in the cosmic sense."
The word cosmic did nothing good for my stress levels.
"Land," he continued. "Objects. Concepts. Even fate, if your will is sharp enough. The effect lasts one hour. However…"
He lifted a finger.
"…if your will is weaker than the creature or entity you attempt to claim—"
The flame inside flared, as if finishing the sentence for him.
"—then you will be the one claimed."
My blood turned to ice.
"For an hour," he finished smoothly, almost cheerfully. "Do try not to choose poorly. Being owned is… inconvenient."
Inconvenient, he says.
As if being spiritually yoinked into eldritch servitude is on the same level as forgetting your wallet at home.
He watched my expression twist, clearly entertained.
Then, softer:
"Use it wisely, Yuwon. Flames of this kind do not simply obey."
A pause.
"They remember."
A shiver crawled up my arms.
My will has to be stronger… so it's safest as a surprise or emergency attack, I thought, sliding the jar into the storage pocket of my pocketwatch. Otherwise, I end up someone's cosmic chew toy.
His eyes softened—not in pity, but in that strange warm glow he rarely let seep through.
"Do take better care of your eyes next time," he chided.
"I am not in the habit of restoring them on a weekly basis."
"I didn't plan on losing it," I muttered.
"Mm. Most people don't plan their own dismemberment."
He let out a theatrical sigh. "Humans are terribly fragile."
'And you're not? Right. Not human. Not remotely.'
I secured the jar deeper into the pocketwatch storage, my hand lingering there—almost feeling the faint warmth through the dimensional space. Like the flame remembered me already.
"So…" I exhaled. "This is goodbye?"
"For now," he said softly.
The tree behind him shimmered—its bark rippling like liquid gold. The branches arched upward into crescent shapes, forming a natural gateway pulsing with warm light. Firefly-like orbs drifted around it, glowing brighter whenever he inhaled. The entire gateway was breathing with him.
He stepped forward one small pace.
But it was enough.
The gold from his antlers reflected in my newly restored eye, painting my vision in molten hues. He stood close enough that I could feel the slow, steady warmth radiating from him—not heat, but presence. Ancient. Heavy. Alive in a way nothing human could ever be.
My heart reacted with all the grace of a dying engine.
"Remember our agreement," he murmured, lowering his pipe.
"When you enter an anomaly—and you will, sooner rather than later—I will see with you. Whether you call for me or not."
"…Not creepy at all," I muttered.
His smile sharpened. "You'll get used to it."
I wasn't sure if the tightness in my chest was fear or… something else I absolutely refused to think about.
"Do anomalies normally form deals with humans like this?" I asked.
"No."
No hesitation.
No amusement.
Just truth, dropped like a stone into still water.
"…Then why me?"
The words slipped out before I could choke them back.
Silence pooled between us.
The Parade dimmed—music softening, lanterns lowering into a gentle flicker, as if the entire domain held its breath waiting for his response.
He studied me, eyes unreadable.
Ancient. Deep. Dangerous.
"That," he said at last, "is a story for another time."
Something in his tone warned me not to push.
Not unless I was willing to risk more than another eye.
"And Yuwon," he added quietly, voice dropping into something intimate and impossibly old,
"do try not to die before our next encounter. I would be… disappointed."
My heart stuttered again like it was trying to somersault out of my chest.
"I'll, uh… try my best."
"Good."
He stepped back, folding one hand behind his back in a gesture so effortlessly regal it made the lanternlight bow around him. Smoke curled around his shoulders, drifting upward like he was dissolving into the Parade itself.
"Now go," he said gently. "Your world awaits. And my Domain closes soon."
I turned toward the shimmering tree—its branches parting like curtains of glowing leaves. The gateway pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
I hesitated.
"Will I… see you again?"
The words came out softer than I intended.
His lips curved into a slow, confident smile.
"Oh, my friend."
He bowed his head slightly—just slightly—his antlers catching the last glimmers of the Parade's light.
"You will never be rid of me."
The golden smoke spiraled upward.
The tree split open, its light reaching for me like warm hands—
And before I could form a single coherent thought, the world seized me and pulled me through.