The Right Star's arrival shattered the mansion's morning silence. Richard's shout cut through the air like a knife, his desperation palpable.
"The Right Star is here!" he cried.
Leonardo remained sprawled on the couch, a dead weight of exhaustion. Richard's attempts to wake him grew increasingly frantic, each shake more aggressive than the last.
As Geoffrey crushed lavender and chamomile, the herbs released not just their aroma, but a sense of something breaking. The delicate leaves crumbled between his fingers like the last vestiges of their previous life.
"This will work," Geoffrey muttered—more to himself than anyone else. His voice carried a tremor of doubt.
Elara and Anna moved with synchronized tension. Their preparedness was a thin veneer over raw nerves. Elara's fingers traced the ruined edges of her dress.
"We can change later," Anna whispered, but the words hung in the air like a fragile promise.
Leonardo finally stirred, his nose blocked by the herbs Geoffrey had plastered on it. His consciousness fought through layers of a dream that clung to him like a second skin.
"I dreamt of something... of someone," he mumbled, the words catching in his throat. But the dream slipped away, leaving only a cold sensation of something unresolved.
"Everyone dreams. We're late," Anna said suddenly.
Leonardo nodded.
They waved goodbye to both Richard and Geoffrey. Anna and Elara hugged their uncle while Leonardo shook Geoffrey's hand. He smiled as he did it—a moment of respect between them.
The landscape outside transformed. Each mile carried them closer to safety, closer to home.
"Promise me you'll guide us," Elara said to Leonardo. But it wasn't a request. It was a demand wrapped in fear.
The words hit him like a brick. It wasn't just an agreement anymore—it was something beyond that. And the person inside Leonardo wouldn't allow him to say no.
"I will," he replied.
Elara's stare began to soften as the words reached her.
Leonardo looked out the window. The mansion was a speck now. He didn't think he'd come back here again—and that's why he missed it.
The train hurtled forward. As Leonardo glanced at the guards, it seemed that because of the explosion, security had gotten tighter.
"There's no turning back now," he decided, his eyes fluttering into a dream once more.
As Leonardo lay slumbering, Anna and Elara remained vigilant, contemplating the impending arrival at the stem.
Elara glanced around, her mood brightening slightly. "It feels... emptier than usual," she murmured.
"They've probably heard about the explosion nearby," Anna said, continuing, "They're scared of what they might find there."
Elara let the words sink in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Who—or what—do you think caused it?"
"Probably a mishap," Anna replied flatly, though her eyes dropped to her palms, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"My skin, Anna... it hurts," Elara whispered, fear creeping into her voice, replacing the fleeting hope Anna had tried to instill.
"It's okay. Let's get to the Stem and settle this mess," Anna said, turning toward the door that separated the train's cabs. She noticed guards approaching—several of them.
"I want to see Mom," Elara said, the thought of her mother bringing her comfort.
"I do too." Anna paused to check her phone. "Mom'll want to see us too."
"I don't think so. She's always in her room," Elara replied, twirling her blonde hair.
She was just a kid trying to emulate her older sister—and Anna knew it. She tried her best to be a mature figure for her.
"Today's an important day, Elara. Even Mom will be active." Anna's voice slowed as Elara's eyes began to flicker shut.
"I hope so..." Elara murmured, fading into sleep.
Anna gently lifted her sister's head and laid it on the couch to avoid waking her. Leonardo, meanwhile, was already beginning to drool in his sleep.
She turned to the small window in the door. The guards were closer now—closer than ever. Their intentions unclear, Anna saw an opportunity to practice her skill.
She studied the details of their attire. Their dark blue tunics were sharply pressed, trimmed with crimson edges. Polished buttons glinted in the light. The insignias on their pouches were of two swords striking each other. One stood out: a sergeant. His uniform bore additional lace, gold chevrons, and epaulettes signifying his status. His field cap had a folded design with lowered ear flaps.
"Third-rank guards, Below Sky Districts—Exterior Affairs!" one of them barked suddenly.
"Anna!" the sergeant exclaimed. As the group slowed, no longer obstructed by their own disorderly movement, she finally recognized him.
"Fredrick," Anna said flatly. "What are you doing here?"
"Aww, still the same," he replied in a too-cheerful, golden-retriever-like tone. "Snarky as ever."
Then, as if someone flipped a switch, his face grew serious. His tone changed completely.
Anna palmed her face. "No, not this again."
"Marquis was on this same Right Star—with his protector. I assume that's yours?" He nodded toward Leonardo, still sleeping.
"Yes, he's ours. And yes, he's sleeping," Anna replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.
Fredrick scoffed. "He should be scouting. Protecting you. Did he even notice the explosion that just happened? You sure you want him around?"
"Enough, Fredrick," Anna snapped, waving him off. The air thickened, though only Fredrick seemed to feel it.
---
Fredrick's Skill
Story Skill: Sergeant – Stage 2
Attachment Skill: Weapon Identification
---
"You've improved," Fredrick acknowledged, struggling to keep his composure.
[Anna's skill wasn't about deceiving people directly. It manipulated the rasvian energy around others—affecting their senses.]
"Years of practice," Anna said with a cold smile.
Fredrick, undeterred, reached forward, forcing her hand upward and gripping it with an unyielding hold. His voice tightened, a mix of pride and challenge.
"This is also years of practice."
"Let go, Fredrick," Anna said, her voice sharp with pain.
"You let me go first," he retorted, tightening his grip before finally releasing her.
Anna twisted her wrist, shaking off the discomfort, eyes flicking to the guards behind him.
"You're not just here for that, are you?"
"Ah, yes, you're aware of the explosion." He turned slightly, then gestured at her outfit, signaling to his men. "She was on it."
Laughter trickled from the group.
"See? It's funny," he said, noticing Anna wasn't amused.
"Anyway," his tone hardened, "who caused it?"
"I don't know. It just caught fire," she said simply.
A pause followed.
"How can a Right Star just catch fire?" he asked. Then, more pointedly, "You almost died."
His eyes scanned her, sharp with implication.
"No need to act so high and mighty. Any normal person I know would be... expressive. They'd enjoy life after facing death, no?"
Anna narrowed her eyes. "We don't know each other, do we?"
She flicked her hand again.
Fredrick hit the ground hard—unable to move. The guards around him stepped back in alarm as she raised her gaze, calm and cold.
"Tell your boss to show some manners. He'll need them when speaking to a lady."
"I'm joking!" Fredrick wheezed.
Anna let go. He flexed his hands and stared at her.
"I've heard enough from Marquis anyway," he muttered, standing. He turned to leave, still watching her.
"I believe you love your job," Anna called after him. "Because if you didn't, you'd still be staring at me—right?"
She matched his gaze.
He hissed and walked off quickly.
"I really want to sleep now," she muttered, flopping back into her seat.
"Five minutes to arrival," announced the speaker overhead.
Anna sighed. "Not even enough time to nap."