The Voice of Doubt

Three demon soldiers charged down the alley, spears pointed at Zenith. Zenith met them head-on with his shield. Two of the soldiers lurched back as their spears glanced off the shield, but the other rounded on Zenith from the right.

Zenith was ready. He swung his sword in an arc, neatly slicing the soldier's spear in half. The momentum of the swing cut down another soldier's spear, and as the last one stabbed at him Zenith fended off the spearpoint with his blade. The soldier stumbled, and Zenith used the opportunity to slash at his chest.

As their comrade crumpled, the other two fled. Cowards. Lowering his sword, Zenith marched onward.

Shouts and screams and clanging weapons echoed around Mare's narrow alleys, but Zenith only had eyes on the colossal skycraft ahead. It loomed above the island like a black half-moon, dwarfing the night sky. The closer he headed, the more soldiers he encountered. The craft itself was heavily guarded, soldiers posted at every visible entrance.

Zenith gripped his sword tighter. It didn't matter how many there were. He'd break through just like he'd cut down all the soldiers who'd gotten in his way. And when he did....

Somehow, he would have to find Theo. If Theo was even aboard the craft in the first place, but where else could he be?

No overthinking things. He'd already made up his mind. Taking a deep breath, Zenith charged down the alley at full speed.

Wind whipped past his face, but his senses remained sharp and alert. In particular, he kept a razor focus on the Levia pulsing in his chest. So far he detected only a hint of dawn light, but he'd notice immediately if anything changed.

When solid stone loomed ahead, Zenith's reflexes instantly took over. He lurched to a stop, digging in his heels to keep himself from falling. Even then, he stumbled a little. Dismayed, he stared at the wall in front of him. A dead end.

Well, he wouldn't let that stop him. With a single leap, he landed atop the wall. From this vantage point, he had an excellent view of the rooftops spreading around him. Perhaps it'd be faster if he ran atop them, even if that would make him more noticeable.

It wouldn't matter if he got to the skycraft quickly enough. His mind made up, Zenith tensed his legs.

But before he could jump, a voice bloomed inside his mind. 'Why are you doing this?'

Zenith froze. If he hadn't caught the wall with his hand, he might've spilled over the edge.

The voice came again, louder. 'Why, I ask?'

His chest tight, Zenith glanced wildly back and forth. Of course, he saw nothing. Not even a single soldier in the vicinity. And it wasn't a demon soldier's voice, anyway.

No, this voice...he had heard it before. But only once, in the depths of sleep mode. A male voice, light and amused, unremarkable except for the way it tugged at a part of his soul he could not explain.

He needed to ignore it. Right now, his top priority was finding Theo. Perhaps he was only hearing things as a result of stress – except that as a homunculus, such a thing should not happen to him.

'Why?' the voice asked again. 'Why go this far for someone who isn't your liege?'

Ice flooded Zenith's chest. That question – hadn't he wondered it himself not too long ago? At the time, he hadn't come up with a satisfactory answer, and he still didn't have one.

'Your liege needs you,' the voice continued, amused as ever but edged with accusation. 'She's in danger, yet you abandoned her.'

Despite himself, Zenith reacted. "I didn't – " exploded out of his mouth.

The instant it came out, Zenith clamped his lips tightly shut. What was he doing? He threw a wild glance around, but it didn't seem anyone had heard above the general chaos of battle. That didn't stop the shame from burning deep in his gut.

'You abandoned her,' the voice said again, twisting the knives deeper. 'I suppose the vow you swore means nothing to you.'

No! It didn't! It was everything –

'Really? From where I'm standing, it looks as though that boy means more.'

That wasn't true! He just – because Theo couldn't fight back, because Theo needed him most urgently –

'Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better. But you know the truth. After everything you've given to your liege, after everything you've done for her, ask yourself: has she ever made you feel the way that boy does?'

'Ask yourself, and you'll know who matters the most to you.'

Nonsense. The voice was speaking total nonsense, and Zenith shouldn't be wasting his time listening to it. He shook his head wildly, hair flying all over his face. Hoping against hope that'd be enough to drive the voice away.

For one breath, then another, Zenith waited. But he felt nothing in the back of his mind except the storm clouding his own Levia. Not even a hint of dark amusement.

Perhaps he had imagined it after all. But why? Why would he ever think such things?

Who mattered the most to him...of course it was his liege. Yet his mind couldn't help turning over his memories of Theo, every time Theo smiled at him. Something so small and insignificant, yet...yet it sent the strangest kind of warmth flickering through him, delicate as a candle flame.

When his liege smiled, did he ever feel that way?

Perhaps not, but what did it matter? His liege and Theo were completely different people. He couldn't imagine her smiling like Theo, so shy and hesitant. Instead, her smile radiated a confidence as unyielding as stone.

Unbidden, words poured through Zenith's mind. Not from the strange voice, but one that meant so much to him it made his heart ache. 'Your life has its own value. Isn't there anything you want for yourself?'

'Just imagine you didn't have to fight for her. If you were a human on Earth. There's – there's gotta be something else – '

Just like the first time he'd heard them, his entire soul cringed away from those words. He'd meant everything he had said in response. Fighting for his liege wasn't an obligation. It was the reason for his existence.

So did that mean Theo only mattered because he gave Zenith a way to fight? A cold shudder raced down Zenith's spine when he remembered Theo accusing him of something very similar, that night by the oak tree....

He'd denied it back then. But if that was the case, then what did Theo mean to him?

Zenith clenched his teeth, gripping the wall so tight his arm trembled. Why was he wasting his time with these useless thoughts? Focus. Right now, he couldn't think about anything except for saving Theo.

Afterwards, he could puzzle out his feelings as much as he wished. All he knew for certain was he had a mission, and it was his duty as a knight to fulfill it.

So he jumped down from the wall and took off running again. Better to stick to the streets for now, he decided; he'd like to preserve the element of surprise for as long as possible.

The black dome of the skycraft grew steadily larger, until he could no longer see the sky above it. He tensed his legs, prepared for one final burst of speed –

Only for something to tug at his Levia. Though faint, it was unmistakable. A spark of dawn light, tiny as a distant star.

Zenith whirled around, his head buzzing. No way. Where...?

He took a cautious step backward. The Levia remained faint, yet he couldn't deny that it pulsed just a little bit brighter.

This didn't make sense. Why was it getting stronger away from the skycraft? Zenith continued moving backward, step by slow step. The Levia tugged a little harder across his contract, and now he had the distinct feeling it was emanating somewhere to his left.

When he saw a narrow opening into another alley, the Levia pulsed stronger than ever. Though hundreds of doubts swirled in his head, Zenith ducked into the alley.

It was so narrow he could barely fit his shoulders inside. Still he pushed onward, compelled by Theo's Levia.

Wait. As he headed deeper, a new Levia joined it. Much fainter and indistinct, yet it brushed at the edge of his consciousness like fluttering rose petals.

Alarm jolted through Zenith's entire body. He slashed his sword forward, and a startled cry filled the air before a slender figure melted out of the darkness.

And he wasn't the only one. Behind him was a man in armor so black it was almost invisible – but Zenith could never mistake the bright pink streak in the hair of the person thrown over his shoulder.