Ashes in his wake

Ariel walked into the crumbling old house, Ilya held protectively in his arms. The scent of dust and old wood barely registered beneath the rage burning in his chest.

He turned toward the silent entity beside him.

“Bring her mattress.”

Orryx, the harbinger of silence and death, obeyed. A ripple tore through space, and with reverence, the mattress appeared. Ariel gently laid Ilya down. Her soft silver hair—now matted with blood and bandages—spread like spilled moonlight across the fabric.

He ran a trembling hand through her hair.

Then he asked, voice low, “How did you learn human language and all this knowledge… and what’s your name?”

The void creature bowed. “This mortal knowledge is trivial, my lord. As for my name—” The air twisted around him like ripples in black water. “I am Orryx. The Executioner of the Void.”

Ariel gave a nod. “Then give me space.”

Orryx vanished into the fissure from which he came.

Ariel stayed, kneeling beside Ilya, who hadn’t stirred. His fingers brushed her cold forehead. And then—he broke.

Tears spilled like ink across her cheeks, mixing with the blood already staining her face.

“I’m sorry… Ilya. I failed you. I… failed.”

The illusion came flooding back.

That battlefield. That black-winged bird.

Her body—lifeless in his arms. By his own hands.

His cries grew louder. “I’m scared… Ilya. Scared of losing you. Please… wake up. Please.”

But silence answered.

The minutes dragged. Then the hours. Until—six painful hours later—she stirred.

Before her eyes opened, she felt something soft and wet fall on her face. Not rain.

Tears.

She blinked slowly, a vague silhouette hovering over her, trembling, crying.

“Bro…brother? You returned! Are you… okay?”

Ariel’s eyes finally lit up again.

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“Why wouldn’t I be?” he whispered, smiling shakily. “Didn’t I promise?”

But that promise… he’d already broken. Promised to protect her. Failed to keep her safe. And worse—he’d killed her, in a way. Even if it was an illusion… it could’ve been real.

It would have been.

Fate always circles back.

He fought back the storm in his chest.

“Are you alright, Ilya? What happened?”

She blinked a few times. “My head hurts. Dizzy… but I’m okay.”

Her voice faltered. She hesitated.

Ariel leaned in. “Don’t hide it, please. Tell me.”

She looked away, then nodded, softly.

“After you went to sleep… the Quiet Witness trial, remember? They came. The men in black army clothes. The ones who always take our money.”

Her voice quivered.

“I told them I had nothing. But they didn’t believe me. They hit me. Then… then they said—‘my body would do.’”

She looked up, confused, innocent. “What does that mean, brother?”

Ariel didn’t answer. He didn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

His fists clenched. Every vein in his body burned like magma.

“They started tearing my clothes. I fought, but they hit me again. That’s all I remember. Brother… please don’t do anything. I can’t lose you. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t be alone again.”

Ariel inhaled, then turned his head.

Ilya followed his gaze.

Space tore like paper. A fissure ripped open.

Orryx stepped through.

“You heard her,” Ariel said, his voice flat and dead. “Pain. Equal to that cursed bird. But only for the guilty. Leave the innocent. Bring me their ashes. Or their heads.”

Orryx bowed low.

“As you command, my lord.”

He vanished into the breach.

Ilya trembled. “Brother… what was that terrifying thing?”

Ariel wiped his face. “Just your guard dog. Hired him two days ago.”

She squinted. “That’s a lie.”

But she didn’t press. She never did, when he looked like that.

Instead, he pulled her into a hug.

“You always worry me. You little chaos magnet. When are you going to stop giving me heart attacks?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Still… I promised you, didn’t I? That if I came back from the trial, I’d give you everything. Let’s start now.”

Ilya sniffed. “But… you’re crying again.”

Ariel looked away. The illusion. Her body. Her blood on his hands. The pain was endless. And it wouldn’t fade.

But he smiled through it.

“Me? Crying? You’re seeing things.”

“Liar,” she snapped. “You always lie and hide your pain. You think I’m too small to understand?”

Ariel sighed, chuckled, and wiped his face.

“There it is again. That wise little adult voice.”

He stood. “Alright, up. You’re a mess.”

She looked at herself—blood, dirt, torn clothes—and laughed a little.

He carried her to the bathroom, water still running from ancient, creaky pipes. This house—abandoned by the wealthy after some beast ravaged the streets—was still better than nothing. And Ariel had claimed it years ago. Stolen, technically. But no one missed it.

He bathed her carefully. Washed her silver hair with trembling fingers, making sure not a single spot of blood remained.

Ilya pouted, blushing. “B-Brother… this is embarrassing…”

“You’re a kid,” Ariel teased. “Why so shy?”

“I am not!”

He laughed. A real laugh this time. Then shampooed her hair with the leftover luxury items the house still hid in its corners.

When he finished, she looked radiant. A small goddess of purity, wrapped in an oversized old towel.

He dressed her, gently, and that familiar dark grin crept across his face.

“What happened?” Ilya asked, raising a brow.

“Nothing,” Ariel replied. “We’re going shopping Sunday.”

“Shopping? Brother, we’re broke.”

He ruffled her hair. “Did you forget? I awakened. I’ll bring in enough to buy you a whole manor in the city. Maybe even ten.”

He wasn’t sure of that. He was still a dormant Rank 1. Only one seal broken. Eight more to go.

But he had a plan.

And that plan?

Started with Orryx returning…

Arms full of vengeance.