Chapter 44: Shadows and Echoes

Chapter 44: Shadows and Echoes

⸻

Lucien had been having a lot of these dreams lately.

At first, he thought they were nothing—just odd, nostalgic images fading as soon as he woke up.

But now...

Now, they were happening too often.

And they weren't just dreams.

They were memories.

⸻

The courtyard was bathed in golden light.

Lucien—or rather, Damien—stood with his practice sword in hand, watching as a young girl with white hair and red eyes fumbled her grip.

She was smaller, younger—only ten, while he was fourteen.

But despite her size, despite her complete lack of defense, despite the fact that he could take her down a hundred times over—

She kept standing back up.

Her raw determination was almost irritating.

Damien sighed, shifting his stance.

"You're gripping too tightly," he said, rolling his shoulders.

The girl scowled, adjusting her hold.

"I know that," she muttered.

Damien tilted his head slightly.

"Then why are you still doing it?"

The girl flushed, shifting her feet.

Lucien smiled slightly.

Then, without warning, he moved.

His sword flickered forward, a clean, controlled thrust.

The girl barely managed to redirect it—too slow, too wide.

Damien sidestepped smoothly, knocking her weapon aside with an almost lazy flick of his wrist.

She stumbled.

Lucien stopped, waiting.

The girl gritted her teeth.

Then, without a word, she adjusted her stance and lifted her sword again.

Damien smirked.

"Better."

And then—he moved again.

For hours, the pattern repeated.

She lost. Every single time.

But she never stopped getting up.

Damien sighed, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Maybe you should've invested in some defense."

The girl, still sitting on the ground, pouted, rubbing her back.

"I don't like defense."

Damien laughed.

"That explains why you're terrible at it."

The girl glared at him.

Damien just grinned and offered a hand.

She huffed but took it.

"You're too strong."

"You're too stubborn."

"I'm gonna get better."

Damien smirked.

"Looking forward to it."

⸻

Later, they sat under a massive oak tree outside the palace walls, looking out over the valley.

The town below them was eerily similar to the one surrounding the Academy in his current life.

Damien leaned against the bark, arms folded.

The girl was sitting on the thick branch beside him, legs swinging slightly.

She was chewing on a piece of dried meat.

She looked absolutely miserable.

Damien raised an eyebrow.

"...What's with that face?"

She glared at the dried meat like it had personally wronged her.

"It has no blood."

Damien rolled his eyes.

"It's jerky. What did you expect?"

She pouted harder, chewing begrudgingly.

Damien shook his head, letting his gaze drift across the rolling hills.

"You ever think about what it'd be like if our people actually got along?"

The girl paused.

Then, after a long moment, she swallowed her bite and said—

"I don't want them to just 'get along.'"

She looked at him, expression stubborn and serious.

"I want humans and demons to be one nation. One kingdom. No more borders."

Damien blinked.

He hadn't expected that.

She turned back toward the view, her voice softening slightly.

"No more 'us' and 'them.' Just... people."

Damien hesitated.

Then, he smirked.

"That's ambitious."

The girl grinned slightly.

"I like ambitious."

Damien chuckled.

"Yeah," he said. "I noticed."

She looked at him again.

Then, after a moment, she held out a hand.

"Lemme have some of your blood."

Damien blinked.

"...What?"

She pointed at his hand.

"I used too much energy today."

Damien gave her a look.

"There's food right there."

She gestured aggressively at the offending jerky.

"This is not food."

Damien sighed, rolling his eyes.

Then, he offered his hand without complaint.

The girl leaned forward, pressing her lips to his finger, her tiny fangs pricking against his skin.

She sighed contentedly, then leaned back against the tree trunk with a satisfied look.

"See?" she muttered. "That's better."

Damien just smirked, shaking his head.

"You're lucky I don't mind."

The girl closed her eyes, the warmth of the sun settling over them.

"You're my fiancé," she murmured sleepily. "You have to let me."

Damien exhaled, resting his head back against the bark.

"...Right."

The warmth of the sun faded.

The memory drifted.

And Lucien woke up.

⸻

Sevrin hadn't been able to sleep.

His mind had been full since their arrival at the Academy.

His sister had stolen the spotlight.

She was the one with fire, with passion, with anger.

And he... didn't know what his role was anymore.

He should have been the one who said something.

He was the elder child.

He was the heir.

So why did he feel like a shadow in his own delegation?

He sighed, walking toward the window—

And froze.

Outside, in the moonlit courtyard, someone was training.

Sevrin's eyes sharpened immediately.

He knew that style.

Heavenly Sword Demon Style.

But—it was wrong.

Or rather—it was purer.

The version his family practiced was refined, softened—made more practical over generations.

What he was watching now was the original version.

It was relentless. Reckless. Overwhelming.

And yet, it flowed perfectly.

Sevrin's heart pounded.

Then, for just a moment—

She blurred.

Sevrin stiffened.

Did she—did she Flicker?

Or was she just unnaturally fast?

He didn't know.

And that bothered him more than anything.

Sevrin stepped back from the window.

He wouldn't report it.

Not yet.

Not until he was sure.