A soft breeze skimmed across her skin, wrapping her in a gentle warmth. Under its caring touch, Lorelei's eyes fluttered open. She was greeted by a familiar sight—the sea of clouds from earlier, but now bathed in the moon's gleaming glow. The light scattered across their surface like gemstones sown into the mist, strung together into a constellation that seemed to hum with quiet brilliance. Though her headache still throbbed vividly, she gasped in awe at the sight before her.
Shiniel, sitting in front of her, turned on her side with her legs dangling lazily over the beast's back. Her composed bearing gave Lorelei the impression that they might be far apart in age, but after taking a closer inspection at her facial features, she realized they probably weren't. Shiniel parted the gravity-defying spikes of her hair across her shoulders into even halves, revealing a small emblem at the nape of her neck. It was Vileth's crest, though this one's spikes curved downward, trailing along her clavicle. Lorelei leaned in carefully, making sure she wouldn't tip over, and reached toward Shiniel, who seemed lost somewhere in her own thoughts. Her melancholic gaze, fixed on the clouds below, stood in strange contrast to her playful legs swaying in the passing wind.
"You awake?" Shiniel asked. "Never mind—stupid question."
I wouldn't be moving if I weren't. Lorelei kept the thought to herself, sparing Shiniel the awkwardness.
"You passed out from overheating," Shiniel declared, kicking both feet through the clouds. "Using the spirited sword puts an enormous strain on your body. It becomes a second energy flow, so you have to keep both of them balanced at all times."
It made sense, in a way. Everything had a second face—another side to the same coin. Shiniel rose to her feet on the creature's back, proudly tugging down her cap and pointing at Lorelei, who watched her with a knot of worry tightening in her chest, certain she might topple over.
"Meaning, I won," Shiniel declared, twisting her cap to the side. "I'm Party A."
Lorelei heaved a long sigh and looked away. She didn't want to admit it, but Shiniel had clearly won—and truthfully, even if she hadn't passed out, the outcome would likely have been the same. Lorelei still had much to learn about fighting. Being able to cheat death put her in an advantage, but it wouldn't help her actually defeat an opponent.
"Whatever," she muttered.
Her mind had cleared considerably; that sharp air of superiority and those sudden mood swings had barely resurfaced. Though she had countless questions burning on her tongue, she knew that asking them would mean revealing too much about herself—the very thing she wanted most to avoid. She looked back at Shiniel, who had lowered her cap once more over her eyes. Her hair, gathered behind her, drifted sideways on the breeze. Her gray jacket and loose black trousers paired together in an unexpectedly harmonious way. As she stood, proudly surveying Lorelei, a silver chain occasionally caught the air—a pendant shaped like a triangle cradling a small star, a symbol Lorelei had spotted on several people leaving the Healing Ray. The moonlight embraced it fully, lending it a lustrous, metallic sheen.
"Well, ready to sign the contract?" Shiniel asked.
"Sign?" Lorelei echoed, puzzled. "With what?"
Shiniel gestured toward her white glove, beneath which a crest glowed faintly as she lifted her hand. In response, the crest engraved on Shiniel's abdomen answered with a matching shimmer.
"That."
Shiniel slowly lifted the hem of her shirt and gathered it in her hand—the same hand that had been holding down her cap. Around it, little rings of ice formed to keep the hat pinned in place.
"Hover it over mine, and repeat what I say."
Lorelei felt a flicker of skepticism. It all seemed strange, and she knew nothing of these crests, nor the spirited swords, nor anything else tied to spells. But trusting her instincts had carried her this far, so she decided to follow Shiniel's lead. As her hand drew nearer to Shiniel's abdomen, the two crests glowed in unison, each seeming to vie for dominance over the other—the deep crimson of blood against the pale blue of ice. When they came within a certain distance, the blinding light they emitted suddenly snuffed out, as if the filaments powering them had snapped and short-circuited. Lorelei's thoughts began to drift, and watching Shiniel slowly lose her grip on her hem, she understood the same was happening to her. Visions of the crimson world resurfaced deep within her mind: the throne, the veil, the seven scarlet stars. Before she could sink deeper into them, Shiniel's voice rang clear in her mind.
"May the Master of all bear witness to this pact." She glanced at Lorelei, waiting.
"May the M-aster of all b-ear witness to this pact," Lorelei repeated, nearly stumbling over the words.
A dim light bloomed from both crests as they began to lock together, completing one another.
"By life and by death, I swear on my heart," Shiniel declared, her voice deprecating the very image of conviction.
"By life and by death… I swear on my heart."
A choking sensation filled Lorelei's chest—similar to when Fray had seized her core, but different. This time it wasn't her core being gripped; it was her heart. She felt an invisible chain coil around it, click, and lock into place.
Then, suddenly, everything went still. A small shock rippled through them, forcing Lorelei to jerk her hand away. She nearly tumbled off the beast's back, but the handle caught her just in time, and she managed to steady herself.
"There. It's done." Shiniel released a long breath of relief.
Lorelei looked at her, struggling to catch her own. Their gaze momentarily locked and they both broke in laughter. In that moment, little sparks of something new—a fledgling friendship—glowed brighter beneath the moon's watchful warmth.
"It didn't really matter who was Party A and who was Party B," Shiniel said, her gaze dropping bitterly to the clouds.
"Why not?" Lorelei asked, pulling herself up on the beast's back and carefully brushing past its tiny wings.
"Because every point of the contract applies to the other as well. Party A isn't superior to Party B in any way."
Lorelei wore a mask of confusion, though she'd noticed the truth long before. There was a certain satisfaction in being the one who offered the contract rather than the one who merely agreed to its terms—an unspoken sense of control. In this case, Shiniel had extended the pact, and so she called herself Party A, even as she bound herself within it just the same. Lorelei simply turned her gaze away, letting the matter drop, and Shiniel took the hint, turning back to let her enjoy the cool night breeze high above the world.
It wasn't the first time Lorelei had been in the skies, but it was the first time she'd truly enjoyed it. Her silver hair reflected the moon's glow, and its crimson tips burned brighter than they appeared to be, gleaming like a distant lighthouse against the dark storm of a cloudy night. At the mere thought of her sword, the crimson substance materialized before her. She seized it, and it dissolved back into her crest.
The sheath was unremarkable—plain black, nothing extraordinary except for its unusual length. Set against Shiniel's blade, Blut was noticeably shorter, yet still long. Lorelei unsheathed it slowly, revealing the edge of the crimson blade. She studied her reflection on its surface. Her eyepatch obscured the number beneath; she lifted it slightly to confirm her suspicion, and there it was: one thousand, etched in bright white amid the brittle red. She turned the blade over and found two stars, with the edge of a third hidden beneath the sheath. She pushed the sheath down, and the remaining stars revealed themselves in a slow procession as her hand slid lower.
"Seven…" she breathed.
They were black, stark against the rest of the blade—a detail she'd somehow never noticed, since her attention always wandered to the top. And even when it didn't, the wavering grip excess always drew her eye. Lorelei laid her palm gently across the stars and realized they weren't merely painted on—they were carved deep into the metal.
Shiniel, who had been leisurely nibbling the little pastry she'd bought, glanced back at Lorelei, thoroughly absorbed in examining Blut. It reminded her, faintly, of herself when she'd first obtained her own spirited sword: Eis.
"Hang on—I'm diving down," Shiniel warned, tucking the crispy pastry back into its brown paper bag. Lorelei snapped back to reality, dissipating the sword into crimson mist and absorbing it into her crest. She grabbed the handle with both hands and braced herself. From a small compartment on the saddle, Shiniel picked a handful of the treats the creature adored, let them loose amongst the raging wind, and leaned forward. The beast surged upward before plunging into the clouds at full speed.
Just as before, beads of moisture struck their faces first, then soaked through the rest of their clothes. Lorelei sighed in irritation at the thought of waiting for them to dry—but the beast gave a small, contented flap, its body rippling like a wave, and she let the annoyance slip away. As they pierced through the sea of clouds, bright freckles of yellow lights shone beneath them. At first, Lorelei assumed it was a city, but a closer look told her it was far too small. It was, apparently, their stop for the night.