Chapter 3 - Betrayal

Flickering candlelight cast a warm, amber glow over the ornate vases lining the walls of the chamber. Each vase was a unique work of art, adorned with intricate patterns and glazes that seemed to dance in the light. A thick, hazy veil of smoke hung in the still air. It was as if time itself had been suspended.

The chamber itself was a standalone structure, set apart from the quiet streets of Graybarrow. Its architecture spoke of reverence and solemnity. High, vaulted ceilings supported by sturdy stone columns, the only windows high above casting a soft, diffused light.

Amidst the haze sat a lone figure. Sigrid. Her jet-black hair a wild tangle, framing a face streaked with tears. Her clothes hung loosely from her frame, stained and rumpled. Her eyes red-rimmed, gaze fixed intently on two vases. 

An intricate engraving adorned the base of these two vases, a delicate script reading: "Bernhard Strumfels and Frida Strumfels." 

Sigrid's fingers traced the letters reverently, a trembling sigh escaping her lips as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. The oppressive silence of the chamber seemed to amplify the sound of her cries, the flickering flames her only company.

On the other side of Graybarrow, where the dusty streets gave way to an empty expanse, a solitary figure moved in a small, worn clearing. The earth beneath his feet was smooth and barren. At the center stood a weathered log, its bark long since stripped away by the fury of fists and feet.

Nikos's body glistened in the harsh sunlight, rivulets of sweat carving paths through the dust on his skin. Steam rose from his overheated form, a hazy mirage in the arid air. Each movement was a blur, his fists cleaving the air with a whistle that spoke of barely contained rage.

With every strike, memories flashed behind his eyes. The sickening crunch of wood piercing flesh. Claws at his back. Not again. Never again. The log shuddered under the impact of Nikos's fist. Splinters ripped into his skin as he left crimson imprints on the pale wood. Bernhard's face, his chest impaled.

"I wasn't strong enough," He felt the stone cracking against his skull.

His heel lashed out, the log groaned, a deep fissure spreading like a hungry maw up its length. Nikos's shoe tore, exposing a foot bloodied by the relentless assault.

But he did not stop.

Bernhard's final words echoed in his mind, a roar that still shook him to his core: I AM BERNHARD STRUMFELS! THE WORLDBREAKER!

Nikos roared as his fist connected one final time, and the log surrendered. It split with a thunderous crack, collapsing in two jagged halves at Nikos's feet. 

He reared back, chest heaving, the taste of copper on his tongue. His eyes, usually warm and calm like river stones, now blazed like fire from the underworld. As he stood there, panting, his body trembling, a tear carved through his dirt-streaked cheek. 

"I will become strong enough. I have to be."

In the sudden silence, a voice cut through the air. "Nikos?"

Nikos's head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, Sigrid!" He hastily wiped his face, smearing dirt and tears across his cheeks. His bloodied hands trembled as he tried to conceal them behind his back. "Not-not right now, Sigrid. I'm busy." The words tumbled out, clumsy and rushed, awkwardly replacing the shattered log with a fresh one from the nearby pile. "Why don't I come find you when I'm done, okay?"

"Come on Nikos, it's a beautiful day, right?" Sigrid's voice quivered. "Maybe we could find some yokai tracks? That hole still hasn't been fixed? A small one could have got in…"

Nikos felt something hot flood his body from deep within. "No Sigrid! We can't act like kids anymore! Bernhard is dead! Don't you understand?! No more games!" They needed to grow up. To protect each other. To be strong. But his rage dissolved, and in its wake was nothing but shame.

 His mind raced, trying to remedy what he'd done. "Sigrid, I–" he reached out with a bloodied hand. 

But she slapped him away, "I don't care," her eyes ran cold with fury and hatred. Her words came out in a rush, as if she couldn't contain them any longer. "I'm running away tonight. Are you coming or not?!"

"But… we can't just run away, where would we go?" Nikos tried, but the heat of Sigrid's anger was palpable. His sister turned on her heel and stormed off into the distance, leaving him alone with his battered body and a whirlwind of unanswered questions. Nikos stared down at his bloody hands. Bernhard…

That night, Sigrid made her move.

The streets were silent as she slipped past sleeping guards and through a gap in the damaged wall. The moment her feet touched the earth beyond Graybarrow, she was off, running as fast as she could. She ran and ran. She ran until it felt like her legs would collapse and her dinner would become, not that. Once she stopped, once her chest was fire and her legs were butter, an intoxicating rush filled her chest. More exhilarating than anything she had ever felt before.

"I'm out! I'm really out!" She laughed, spinning in the moonlight. All her anger, her grief, her resentment—it melted into the air, carried away on the wind. She could leave it all behind. She was—

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Sigrid froze. The warmth in her chest turned to ice.

Valda stepped from the shadows, arms crossed, eyes burning with quiet fury.

"You stupid, reckless child." Her voice was low, but it was the quiet anger that made Sigrid shrink back. "What do you think would have happened had I been a yokai?"

Sigrid opened her mouth, but no words came. The rush of adrenaline faded, leaving nothing but a hollow ache.

"That's what I thought!" Her eyes darted around, her voice still low but menacing. "Scare me like this again and I'll make sure you can't leave the house ever again!"

By the time Valda dragged her back through the gates, Sigrid wasn't even crying. Her face was cold. Her eyes hollow.

There is no escape.

There is no hope.

The next morning Sigrid's sat at the foot of the wall, her knees drawn to her chest, making herself as small as possible. The whistle of wind over the barren landscape was the only sound save for her muffled whimpers. 

A gentle touch on her arm snapped Sigrid up. "Don't touch me!" she snarled, scrambling backwards. 

The figure before her wasn't Nikos. But he did look oddly familiar, she was sure she had seen him before. He stood tall and imposing, garbed in a crisp tailored suit. But it was his eyes that truly captivated Sigrid – one a deep, foreboding red, the other a calm, tranquil blue.

"You were with the collectors when the lasari attacked!"

The stranger knelt gracefully, bringing himself to Sigrid's level. "That's right." His voice was soft but powerful, pulling Sigrid in. From seemingly nowhere, he produced a delicate flower, its petals a vibrant purple that seemed to glow in the dim light.

"Oh wow!" Sigrid breathed, her earlier distress momentarily forgotten. She reached out hesitantly, afraid the flower might disappear if she touched it. "A real flower! I've only seen one once, when my dad..." Her voice trailed off, the memory bittersweet. "Who are you, anyway?"

The man's mismatched eyes crinkled with a warm, welcoming smile. "My name is Inyoka. And as it happens, I knew your father very well."

Sigrid's mouth fell open, words failing her. Inyoka's smile deepened at her reaction.

"And your mother Frida."

"You knew my mom?!" Sigrid blurted out, her voice echoing off the alley walls. 

Inyoka raised a finger to his lips, his expression playful but cautioning. "Lower your voice, little one. I don't want everyone to know I'm here just yet. I came specifically to talk to you, after all."

A warmth bloomed in Sigrid's chest, chasing away some of the cold loneliness that had taken root there. "M-me? Why?"

"Your parents were dear friends of mine. I cared for them both deeply." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "And they were both incredibly powerful. I think – no – I know you have that same potential within you."

The small flame Sigrid's heart grew brighter at his words. Inyoka continued, his tone becoming more serious. "I want to take you to a place that will make you strong. It won't be easy, but I'll teach you everything I know about this world."

As he spoke, Inyoka reached out and touched the flower in Sigrid's hand. Before her eyes, the delicate petals shifted and transformed, the purple hue giving way to a gleaming, metallic sheen.

Sigrid gasped, nearly dropping the now metal flower. "Wait—how did you—?" She fumbled for words, her mind reeling.

"Sigrid." The sound of her name snapped her attention back to Inyoka's face. His mismatched eyes seemed to see through her. "Do you want to leave this place with me?"

The words struck her like a blow. Leave? With him? Her chest tightened, a whirlwind of emotions tangling in her mind. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

"I'll return tomorrow, riding with the collectors. You have until then to decide. Choose wisely—this chance won't come again." With a gentle pat on her arm, Inyoka rose and turned to leave, raising a hand in a casual wave.

Sigrid was frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs. I... I can leave? The metal flower pressed cold against her chest as if anchoring her to the spot. 

Suddenly, her legs moved of their own accord. "Wait!"

But as she rounded the cottage, she found only empty air and barren land. It was as if Inyoka had vanished into thin air.

Breathless, Sigrid clutched the flower tighter. Its edges bit into her palm, but she barely noticed.  "-they were both incredibly powerful. -I know you have that same potential-" 

…I want to go.

Standing alone in the shadow of the great wall, Sigrid stared at the flower in her hand. For the first time in what felt like forever, a spark of excitement flickered in her heart. 

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

That night the sun's dying rays painted the sky in hues of orange and purple as shadows lengthened across the modest dining room. Valda' fingers drummed on the worn wooden table, her gaze darting between Nikos's full mouth and Sigrid's sullen expression. The air hung heavy with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the comforting aroma of their meal.

"Whash up Valsha?" Nikos spat.

Valda cleared her throat, putting on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Why don't we have a fire and make some s'mores?" The words were almost too cheerful.

Nikos's face lit up, beaming with childlike excitement. "Really? Where did you get marshmallows?"

Before Valda could respond, the scrape of chair legs against the floor cut through the air. Sigrid stood abruptly, her face a mask of indifference, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Without a word, she turned towards her room, her movements stiff and deliberate.

"Sigrid, no." Valda's voice cracked like a whip, halting the girl in her tracks. The forced cheerfulness evaporated, replaced by a mix of frustration and desperation. "I'm tired of you walking away from us—"

Sigrid whirled around, her face contorted with a fury that seemed too large for her small frame. "Like you walked away from Dad?" The words hung in the air, sharp and poisonous.

The room fell deathly silent. Nikos's expression shifted from excitement to fear as he awkwardly played with his meal.

Valda's hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides. In two swift strides, she stood and closed the distance between them. She looming over Sigrid like the wall itself. Their gazes locked, neither willing to back down.

Valda's chest heaved with each measured breath, barely contained rage and grief etched into every line of her face. "Your father and I vowed to protect you to our dying breaths. And that is exactly what I plan on doing! What if the Yokai attacked here as well? The hunters would have had nowhere to run to. And neither would you." She leaned in closer, her words dripping with a mixture of anger and pain. "Do not speak on things you don't know about, child."

The last word hung between them. Nikos huddled in his chair, forgotten, as aunt and niece stood locked in their emotional standoff.

"Fine." Sigrid stomped past Valda, digging through the pantry before promptly pulling out marshmallows and waving them around. "Let's get this over with."

"But it wasn't–" Nikos began before being shot a dangerous glare from Valda.

She escorted the kids outside and got a small fire going. Nikos sat opposite Sigrid, watching her image flicker and shift in the firelight. 

"So Sigrid, want to train with me again? We don't hang out like we used to..." Nikos's voice was hopeful. But as Valda stoked the flames, Nikos felt he only stoked the flames of Sigrid's anger.

"Why... it's not like we'll ever leave..." Sigrid stared deep into the all-consuming flames. "You only get one chance."

"Come on, Sigrid, I know it's been rough but–" 

"But what?! He wasn't even your real dad, you don't know how I feel."

Valda's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Enough, Sigrid! We're all hurting! And you have no idea what's out there!"

"If you would have helped, maybe Dad would be alive."

"Sigrid," Valda didn't turn to meet Sigrid's gaze this time. Her voice didnt raise. Her words came out slow, calculated, and furious. "I said that's enough. The world out there... it's not what you think it is."

"How would you know? You never leave either. You were never an Ascendant! You're just as trapped as we are."

Nikos fidgeted with his marshmallow stick. "Come on, guys. Can't we just enjoy the s'mores?"

"Shut up, Nikos," Sigrid snapped, guilt twisting inside her even as the words left her mouth, but she couldn't stop now. "You're so naive. Don't you wish you could leave anymore? What happened to us becoming ascendants!? Traveliong the world?!"

"Of course I want to. I just… Want to be ready…"

Valda slammed her stick into the fire, sending sparks flying. "That's enough! You dishonor your father's memory with this... this… childish rebellion!"

"Childish? I'm not a child anymore, Valda! I'm old enough to make my own choices."

"Old enough?" Valda barked out a harsh laugh. "Had I not brought you home you'd be dead by now. You wouldn't last the night."

"I wish it had been you out hunting that day." The fire crackled in the sudden silence, casting long shadows across their faces. Nikos sat frozen, his marshmallow forgotten, slowly burning in the flames.

Valda's face was a mask of conflicting emotions - anger, fear, and a deep, aching sadness. When she spoke again, her voice was low and tight. "Is that what you want, Sigrid?"

The raw vulnerability in Valda's voice seemed to catch Sigrid off guard. For a moment, her defiant mask slipped, guilt stabbed her in the chest. But just as quickly, she shoved down the emotion, simply turning and walking away from the fire, leaving Valda and Nikos staring after her, the warmth of the flames doing nothing to thaw the ice that had settled over their makeshift family.

The collectors cast a shadow over Graybarrow, fear was palpable in the air as supplies were loaded into waiting carriages. Whispers rippled through the crowd, a tide of anxious murmurs.

Sigrid's fingers trembled as she tucked the metallic flower into her pocket, excitement warring with guilt. She turned to Nikos, who was doing pushups in the corner. She wanted to say goodbye. Say for him to come with her. He'll just try and stop you. 

"Goodbye Nikos," She whispered, leaving her adopted brother's confused reply echoing behind her.

Outside, Sigrid wove through the crowd, making her way to the carriages while scanning for Inyoka. She spotted Valda standing beside Mayor Calin, her aunt's body tense like a coiled spring. Valda's eyes widened as she noticed Sigrid.

"Sigrid! What do you think you're doing?"

A collector's sword flashed, its tip hovering near Sigrid's face. In a blur of motion, Valda appeared between them, palm pressed against the collector's chest. Her voice dripped venom. "Reconsider. Quickly."

"I'm going with them," Sigrid said, her voice shaking, but defiant.

"No, you're not!" Valda and the collector chorused.

"Actually, she is." The words cut through the chaos, smooth as silk and cold as ice. Inyoka emerged from the carriage, his mismatched eyes gleaming, suit pristine as ever. He beckoned to Sigrid, who darted to his side.

"He believes in me!" Sigrid snapped. "He can make me strong!"

Valda stepped closer, her voice softening. "Sigrid, you don't understand what you're getting into. He's dangerous."

"Well maybe I want to be dangerous! Maybe then I'll be strong enough to survive out there!"

Valda's eyes narrowed. "Sigrid, he killed your father."

Confusion flashed across Sigrid's face. Her stomach dropping as she looked up at her would be saviour. "But you said Yokai—" 

"Dont worry Sigrid, you're safe with me. She wants to keep you here." Inyoka's tone was cold and calm. 

"O…Okay…" He's right. She said herself Yokai attacked them… 

"You can't hide her forever."

"You're a killer and a monster!" Valda spat. Rage contorted her features, her eyes darkening to inky pools. "What about you is safe?!" A noxious fog poured from her mouth, devouring everything it touched. The crowd scattered in terror as the ground rotted and stones melted.

"And you're not?" 

Sigrid scrambled for the carriage's safety, heart thundering in her chest. What… what is she?! 

Inyoka moved with a grace Sigrid had never seen before, his body seeming to flow like water around Valda's attacks. He leapt and spun, always just out of reach of the deadly mist. Sigrid recognized some of the basic stances and movements from her own training, but Inyoka elevated them to an art form.

Valda was equally skilled, moving with the same grace and power. Each strike left trails of that black fog, eating away everything it touched. Sigrid had never seen her aunt fight like this before, and it both thrilled and terrified her.

The two combatants clashed again and again, their movements too fast for Sigrid to follow completely. She caught glimpses of familiar techniques – a flowing punch sequence here, a rooted defensive stance there – but executed with a speed and precision that left her breathless.

Inyoka seemed to dance on the air itself, while Valda destroyed everything in her vicinity. They traded blows that would have felled any normal person, yet neither seemed to tire.

Sigrid's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the battle unfold, her eyes struggling to keep up with the blur of motion before her. One moment, Valda and Inyoka were locked in their deadly dance, and the next—

It happened so fast, Sigrid almost missed it. Inyoka seemed to vanish, reappearing instantly in front of Valda. Sigrid blinked, and in that split second, everything changed.

Inyoka moved with impossible speed, closing the distance between himself and Valda in an instant. Sigrid's breath caught in her throat as she witnessed the brutal efficiency of his attack. One moment, Valda stood defiant, wreathed in her deadly black fog. The next, three sharp cracks split the air. 

Valda's eyes widened in shock, the noxious fog sputtering from her mouth. She stumbled, her invincible aura shattered in an instant. Sigrid watched, her heart breaking, as blood replaced the black mist pouring from her aunt's lips.

The woman who had been her jailer, her protector, her tormentor - now slumped against Inyoka, her life ebbing away with each labored breath. Inyoka leaned in close, his lips moving near Valda's ear, as he laid her to the ground.

Sigrid felt like a thick fog was descending over her thoughts. She knew she should feel something - anger, grief, elation, horror - but there was only a vast, echoing emptiness. Her fingers found the cool metal of the flower in her pocket, its smooth surface the only thing that felt real in this surreal moment.

The pool of blood spreading around her aunt seemed oddly small, nothing like the drenched battlefields of the yokai attacks. It looked almost... peaceful.

The acrid smell of gun smoke and blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the collective gasps and screams of the gathered crowd. She's gone... Nobody can stop me now. But I… I didn't want her to die…  The once-formidable warrior now looked small, fragile—a broken doll discarded after rough play.

The crowd of townspeople pressed closer, a sea of wide eyes and gaping mouths, their fear and awe palpable in the tense silence.

"It's done," Inyoka's smooth voice startled Sigrid from her daze. He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Are you ready to leave this place behind?"

Sigrid's gaze flickered between Inyoka and Valda's body. A distant part of her mind registered Nikos's anguished cries from somewhere in the crowd, but it felt muted, as if coming from underwater. 

"I..." her voice cracked, barely a whisper. "I don't know."

Inyoka's hand came to rest on her shoulder, surprisingly gentle. "It's alright. Shock is a natural response. You'll understand in time that this was necessary."

Sigrid's eyes were still drawn to Valda as she slowly nodded. There's so little blood—shouldn't there be more? The stories always spoke of battlefields drenched in red, but this... this seemed almost peaceful. 

The crowd's whispers grew louder, a rising tide of fear and uncertainty. Sigrid caught fragments of their words—"monster" "what now?""should we fight?—but they washed over her without leaving an impression.

"We should go," Inyoka's tone brooked no argument. "There's nothing left for you here."

"Nothing left…"

As if in a dream, Sigrid allowed Inyoka to guide her towards the carriage. Each step felt her body was moving of its own accord. Her mind detached, observing from a great distance.

Just as she was about to step into the carriage, a heart-wrenching cry pierced the air. "Sigrid!"

Nikos's voice. For a moment, the fog in Sigrid's mind cleared. She turned, catching sight of Nikos's tear-streaked face in the crowd. Their eyes met, and a torrent of emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

But then Inyoka's hand was on her back, gently but firmly guiding her into the carriage. The door closed with a soft thud, muffling the sounds of the outside world. As the carriage lurched into motion, Sigrid sat rigidly, her gaze fixed ahead.

As Graybarrow receded into the distance, Sigrid attempted to square her shoulders. Willing herself to feel the exhilaration of freedom once again. She focused on the cool metal of the flower in her pocket, a symbol of the power Inyoka had promised her.

This is what I wanted, she repeated silently, her internal voice growing stronger with each iteration. To be strong. To be free.

"I won't look back. I won't be weak. I'll become stronger than anyone in Graybarrow could have imagined."

The carriage lurched into motion, and for a moment, Nikos stood frozen in disbelief. Then, as if a spell had broken, he exploded into action.

"Sigrid!" he roared, his voice cracking with desperation. Without a second thought, Nikos sprinted after the rapidly retreating carriage.

His feet pounded against the hard-packed earth, pushing with everything he had, but the horses were faster. Nikos's lungs burned, his muscles screaming in protest, but he pushed harder. He couldn't lose her. Not Sigrid. Not after Bernhard, after Valda.

"Please!" he gasped between ragged breaths. "Sigrid! Come back!"

The gap widened with each passing second. Nikos's vision blurred, whether from tears or exhaustion, he couldn't tell. His mind raced faster than his feet.

Why, Sigrid? Why are you leaving us? Leaving me?

The carriage was becoming smaller on the horizon. Still, Nikos ran. He ran until his legs gave out, sending him sprawling into the dust.

Slowly, painfully, Nikos pushed himself to his knees. The carriage was gone, nothing more than a speck in the distance. But as he stared down the empty expanse, a steely resolve hardened in his eyes.

With trembling legs, Nikos stood. He cast one last look at the walls of Graybarrow, before turning to the horizon.

And taking another step.