Not Alone

Just then, the door above began to click, the sound echoing through the room like a metallic heartbeat. Mike's head jerked up, his eyes fixed on the balcony above. A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.

"Garo!?" 

"Good morning, my Jyuran," Garo, the Anthropter, replied. Her gaze swept the room below, her eyes scanning the space as if searching for something – or someone. "She bragged about protecting you and not leaving your side in the morning. Look at you now, my Jyuran, all alone," she observed.

Mike's thoughts flashed back to the peculiar timekeeping system of the underground village. Though it was morning outside the village, Garo still referred to it as night, a quirk that Mike must now grow accustomed to.

When it was morning within the village, it was night outside, and vice versa. This unusual rhythm of the village's timekeeping system still fascinated him, and he found himself pondering the intricacies of this unique world.

"Who says he's alone?"

Garo, hearing the familiar voice from above, glanced upward, only to meet with Miram's mischievous grin, which seemed to hover above her like a malevolent specter.

Fear's icy grip sent Garo's balance reeling, and she tumbled off the balcony, plummeting toward the ground with a terrified shriek. 

Miram dove after her, and with a swift, precise movement she grasped one of Garo's legs, slowing her descent. As they hovered mere feet above the ground, Miram released her grip, and Garo landed with a soft thud, the impact sending a faint tremor through the air.

Garo sprang to her feet, her eyes blazing with indignation as she glared at Miram. "You little monster!" she spat.

"A thank you would do; I just saved your life," Miram smirked.

Garo rolled her eyes disdainfully. "Thank you for what?" she scoffed. "You scared me half to death in the first place. What were you doing up there, lurking like a ghost?"

Miram descended closer to Mike, who had been quietly observing the exchange. "Protecting my Jyuran, of course. I stayed by his side, awake all night, watching over him," she said, pushing forward her chest boastfully. "You would've been long gone by now had you been an enemy."

"Why must you stay beside him while he hangs? Can't you protect him from afar?" Garo snarled in disgust.

Miram rolled her eyes but said nothing, instead striding to the corner of the room where she had hung the coat she had taken from her cave abode the previous night.

"I can no longer trust you with the Jyuran's safety, you little girl!" Garo's voice pierced the air once more. 

Miram's eyes flashed with anger, and she pivoted. "Don't you dare call me a little girl!" she recoiled, unleashing a burst of gastra energy that plunged the room into total darkness. The sudden absence of light was disorienting, and Mike's other senses went on high alert.

As he struggled to adjust to the darkness, Mike realized that the lantern that had illuminated the room before he slept the previous night was no longer producing light. 

It was likely that the shins, the creatures responsible for maintaining the lantern's glow, had concluded their night duty and retreated into a deep slumber.

Mike wondered what other source of light had been illuminating the room until now. His night vision allowed him to navigate the darkness, and he could see that Garo seemed unfazed by Miram's demonstration of gastra power. Perhaps she believed he would protect her from Miram's wrath.

However, Garo's face did convey a hint of surprise, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the sudden darkness. Mike could sense that the situation was on the verge of escalating into something more volatile.

"It's okay, Miram, she's just joking with you," Mike finally intervened, his voice calm and soothing, attempting to diffuse the tension that had been building in the air. 

Miram's gaze softened, and she reluctantly relented, snapping her fingers to restore the light to the room.

As the room sprang back to life, Mike whirled around to investigate the source of the light. His inspection had been cut short the previous night when he had laid eyes on Agira's portrait, which had stirred up a maelstrom of emotions within him and inadvertently awakened the dormant soul of Jran.

Now, as he scanned the room, his eyes landed on two short wooden sticks, about ten inches long, hung on the wall and wrapped in black materials. Mike's gaze narrowed as he realized that Miram must have set them ablaze when the shins in the lantern had retired for the night. 

The soft crackle of the burning wood and the warm, golden light it cast were mesmerizing. Mike couldn't help but wonder just how much gastral power Miram possessed and what other secrets she might be hiding.

Garo smiled wryly at Miram before shifting her gaze to Mike. "Cat asked me to come and bring you, my Jyuran," she said. 

Mike nodded slowly. "At least I very much expected that but—" he slowly turned to Miram, "—why hasn't your father arrived yet?"

"I spoke to him last night while you were hanging," Miram replied. "He's arrived, but he didn't want to come here yet. He said he wanted to gather some information about your son." 

Mike's eyes narrowed. "Why would he do that?" he whispered. "Isn't it too dangerous?"

"Trust him; my father always has a plan," Miram continued. "He thinks critically before taking any step. According to him, the news about your existence is still a secret hidden from the people of Perebia." 

Mike tapped his teeth as his gaze turned thoughtful. "He made sure the people were deprived of hope, how mesmerizing," he said. 

"My Jyuran! Let's go, the council is waiting for you," Garo's voice echoed from the balcony above, her hand resting on the intricate iron balustrades.

Miram slipped on her coat over her sleeveless dress, crafted from lightweight, semi-transparent fabrics, rustling softly as she moved.

Mike's eyes were drawn to the coat, and he took a closer look, fascinated by the subtle differences between this coat and those he had seen on Earth. 

A unique design feature caught his attention: two straight, vertical slits at the back of the coat, carefully positioned to accommodate her wings. These strategic cuts allowed the wearer to don the coat without restricting the movement of their wings, providing unparalleled freedom and comfort.

He smiled and leaped into the air, followed by Miram, and the trio exited the room.