Raiden shifts his gaze away from the window and toward Raia, who is sitting across from him in the train compartment, reading a newspaper. They haven't said anything since getting on the train, and they've been on it for half an hour.

He had tried to strike up a conversation earlier, but the grim-faced girl never took her gaze away from the newspaper she had picked up in town on their way to the station. Raiden decided not to try again after that failed attempt, fearful of receiving another silence or even a scowl.

Raiden leans his elbow on the window. Perhaps she's still upset about her Branding?

He knew when he saw her face after mentioning her Branding. Of course, she must have gone through the same ordeal as Nathan and the other Aragons he met. Maybe what she saw had something to do with her distant personality.

Raiden, on the other hand, is still puzzled as to why he did not have the same experience as the majority of Aragons. When he was Branded a year ago, the Sacred Water only showed him blackness. He wasn't able to see anything. His branding was . . . void. He's even wondering if he went inside the same water or not. Perhaps he's only different because he has no memory of his past.

He has no recollection of his life prior to becoming a disciple.

Regardless, the Sacred Water should have revealed something to him.

"Hey there."

Raiden's musings are interrupted by an animated voice. He turns his head, then blinks. A young man with ginger hair stands in front of their compartment, an amiable smile on his lips.

"Can I sit with you? Sitting with the elderly bores me," says the man, picking his ear with his pinky.

Raiden frowns, scrutinizing his appearance. The first thing he notices about him is his silver eyes. His pupils are thin, vertical slits instead of round ones.

He has eyes like a cat!

Raiden has never seen anyone with such eyes before. For some reason, he finds himself becoming suspicious of the stranger in front of him.

The man wears a green bandanna around his head and is dressed in a sloppy dark shirt with an emerald green capelet draped around his shoulders. His black baggy pants are tucked into his knee-high boots.

What an outfit. Maybe he's just a traveler, Raiden wonders. He casts a quick glance at Raia as if to solicit her permission, but her face is still buried in the newspaper.

What's the appeal of reading the newspaper? He gives her a funny look.

"Alright, silence means yes!" exclaims the stranger as he sits down next to Raiden. He extends his hand. "I'm Loki."

Raiden's brow furrows in surprise at the man's cordial demeanor.

"I'm Raiden."

Loki scrunches up his brows as they shake hands, contemplating Raiden's feature.

"Hey, have we met before?" Loki asks, eliciting a frown from the questioned youth.

"Pardon me, but I don't recall ever meeting you before today." Raiden's stomach churns as he says that.

He is conflicted on the inside. Because he has no recollection of his past, it's possible that they've already met. But, for the time being, he has no memories of this man.

Loki raises an eyebrow at him before releasing his hand. He pulls an apple from his satchel, nods to Raiden, and takes a bite with a crunching sound.

"So, how old are you?" he asks as he chews.

"I'm seventeen years old," Raiden responds. He takes a water bottle from his sling bag and drinks half of it while looking at Raia.

Is she really ignoring us on purpose?

"So I'm older than you, eh? I'm twenty-two years old," Loki declares, then crunches on his apple. His gaze drifts to Raia. "Are you with that pretty girl over there?"

Loki has already made his way to Raia's seat before Raiden can respond. He leans in close to her as if he's about to whisper, a smirk on his face.

"Hey, young miss," he utters, his voice honeyed. A frown spreads across his features. Then he scribbles a smile on his lips. "You have a nice scent."

Raia hits Loki in the face with the newspaper, and the man backs away in an instant, a look of disbelief on his face.

"What was that for?" Loki exclaims. He glances at Raiden. "Damn, you've got a dangerous woman in here with you."

Raiden lets out a soft sigh. He's about to warn him not to bother Raia, but he's a second late. He's now feeling sorry for the stranger.

"Kara," Raia says, a firm tone in her voice. She raises her piercing gaze to Raiden and crosses her arms across her chest beneath her black cloak. "You just can't trust anyone you meet, especially in public."

Raiden averts his gaze, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, you're not talking to me."

Raia's eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line as she stares at him. She then turns her head and looks at Loki, who flinches comically at her icy gaze.

If looks could kill, he and Loki would be lying on the floor by now.

Loki gives her a hesitant smile as he scratches his temple with his index finger. "Well . . . I'm Loki?"

Raia's frown deepens into a scowl, causing him to gulp in fear. Helpless, he glances at Raiden as if requesting assistance for his intimidating companion.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Raiden gives him an apologetic look. "She's a colleague of mine. Her name is Raia."

Raia's brows furrow in a savage line at the mention of her name, and a thin smile forms on her lips.

Upon seeing her face, Raiden gulps, but he forces himself to stand his ground. Raia's fierce smile is so cold and forced that it will freeze anyone out of fear. She rarely smiles, but when she does, it only adds to her menacing appearance. Despite Raiden's desire to see her face with it, he immediately regrets it after seeing her wear such an expression right now.

Raiden regards his companion as a truly terrifying person, with whom no one wants to mess. She is always quiet and wears a stoic expression, which makes her difficult to read. Her eyes, too, convey no emotion, not even a hint of what she is thinking. She's like a closed book. But all of this only serves to pique Raiden's interest in learning more about her.

To read beyond the cover page.

"I apologize on her behalf, but if you're thinking of making friends with her, I strongly advise you to reconsider," Raiden continues to Loki whilst keeping a calm exterior. No matter how intimidating she looks, he can't let himself be swayed by her. He has to get used to her presence and her cold demeanor.

To gain her trust, he must first prove that he is deserving of it. And acting like a scared puppy isn't going to help. He has to show that he can face her without any fear. Displaying inferiority makes her feel superior, which only widens the gap between them. It also makes him look bad as a man. He must make himself at ease around her in order for her to feel the same way.

Loki tilts his head to one side, puzzled, as Raia and Raiden exchange glares so intense that it feels like streamers of lightning arch back and forth between their eyes. Then, unnoticed by the two, an enigmatic smile spreads across his face.

"So where's your destination?" Loki asks. He's now seated next to Raiden, holding a box of cookies. He pops one in his mouth and looks at Raiden. He offered him some a while ago, but Raiden only thanked him. He even attempted to offer some to Raia, but the girl's icy stare scared him away.

"Marietta," Raiden answers, leaning back in his seat.

"Perfect!" Loki beams, a glint in his eyes. "That's where I'm headed as well. So I guess we'll be leaving this train together, eh?"

Raiden blinks at him. "Oh, I see. Visiting someone, I guess?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah. I'm going to see a close friend of mine." Loki then soon starts talking about trivial matters to Raiden.

While chatting with Loki, Raiden catches a glimpse of Raia in his peripheral vision. With the newspaper still in front of her face, her sagacious gaze is fixed on the stranger sitting next to him.

Returning his attention to Loki, Raiden keeps his guard up. Raia is right; he can't just trust anyone. But just because he's friendly with him doesn't mean he trusts him. After all, demons, their enemies, resemble humans.

After an hour and a half, they arrived in Marietta, a small town in Gerland, a country in Mikael. The town is located on the northern bank of the Haven River, which is one of the major Mikaelean rivers.

Raiden takes in his surroundings as they walk down the cobbled street lined with half-timbered houses and shops wreathed in leafy vines. A delicate fruity aroma pervades the air, highlighting the town's pride.

Marietta could be a beautiful town if it weren't for its gloomy atmosphere. Silence and misery ring throughout the area, and the townspeople walk with drooping shoulders, their faces a mirror of their grieving heart.

Someone must have died again, Raiden thinks as he turns away from the depressing scene, a hand of sorrow clutching his chest. His heart yearns to be with them in their grief, but it will be futile.

What he needs to do is find the source.

When he looks at Raia, he is not surprised by her impassive expression. But he is certain that she, like him, must have already sensed the uneasy atmosphere around them.

Cyrus stated that people are committing suicide in this town, but why? Raiden ponders, his brow furrowed. Maybe it's Black Art. So a Cimmerian is present.

He clenches his hands into fists.

"Ah," Loki exclaims from behind. "The wines are world-class. I don't regret coming here."

Raiden's jaw drops as he looks over his shoulder at Loki. The man is holding two bottles of wine, one of which is already half empty. He didn't even notice him buying something from a store. Perhaps Raiden is too preoccupied with the town's gloomy mood.

"You sure look pleased," Raiden observes.

Loki raises a brow at him. "I'm enraptured by this town. Anyways, would you like a taste? Believe me, you'll love it."

Raiden blinks twice, amused by his vivacity. He doesn't seem to be affected by the gloomy atmosphere around them, or he may be unaware of the town's current state. But then Raiden remembers that the man is visiting a close friend, so he must know something about the situation.

This man is just bizarre.

"Somehow, the smell of this town compels me to kill someone," Raia, who is walking ahead of them, says. Her mouth shows a trace of an ominous smile.

"What?" Raiden blurts, then forms a small circle in his mouth when he realizes she's referring to her drunken mentor. "Oh."

"Hey you," Loki says in a low voice, falling into a step beside Raiden. "Should we take this as a warning and flee? The atmosphere around her screams danger."

Raiden gives him a sidelong glance. "You don't need to ask such an obvious thing."

Raiden and Raia have rented two rooms in one of the town's cheap inns, while Loki has told them that he is going to one of the castles perched above the vineyard.

Raiden sighs as he lies on the hard bed, staring at the paintless ceiling. The two-hour journey did not tire him out, but the atmosphere of the place did. What is going on in such a lovely town? What kind of Black Arts can drive people to commit suicide? Raiden must put an end to the town's misery. They must restore the beauty that it was meant to have.

His expression hardens. "I'll save this town."

He then crawls out of bed, marches out of the room, and heads downstairs to meet the Outcasts who share the same roof as them, pretending to enjoy their drinks. His hollow footsteps match the beats of his pounding heart- the sound of an approaching savior and destroyer of darkness.

"Answer my call, Cypress," he whispers, touching the silver cross earring that hangs from his right ear. His once gentle golden eyes have now become a reflection of his heavy heart.

The earring emits a beam of light as it transforms into a broadsword with a thorny vine. And the people seated at the tables all turn their heads at him, a blank expression on their faces. Raiden grips his sword's hilt as he meets their stares.

To illuminate their distorted path, he must destroy them - the darkness that confines the once innocent people.

"May the Light be with you."

***

Meanwhile, Raia stands by the window in a room opposite Raiden's, watching the last of the sun's rays cosseting behind soft grey clouds. Outside, the narrow streets and houses are silhouetted against the beginning of a silver sky. The wind slipping through the window gets colder as the sky darkens, and the air of dread thickens with each passing second. Except for the muffled sobs of those in mourning, the area remains silent.

"This place is . . . sad," Raia says, staring at the sky.

"I must not feel."

"That's right, don't let emotions ruin your pretty face."

Raia is startled by the sudden and unwelcome memory that flashes through her mind. A memory from the orphanage. She digs her nails into her palms and closes her eyes, searching her mind for something else to remember.

"I'm back! Look at what I've got. World-class wines from Gerland's best winemaking town!" Simon exclaimed, a large box slung over his head.

Raia frowned. "World-class? Well, I can sell that for the most money."

Simon's forehead creased. "You won't touch your dad's precious babies, Raia, " he said, hugging the box securely against his chest.

Raia's eyes open just as the birds fly past her window. Their wings flap in uncanny ways as if a prelude to an oncoming peril.

Before another dreadful night descends on Marietta, the gloomy town needs some light from the hands of someone blessed. It needs salvation from them, Aragons, so they cannot be idle or distracted.

"Our objective is to eliminate evils."

Raia's eyes darken, and she clutches her necklace. "Eliminate evils and save this winemaking town for master."