“Myra… isn't this too close?”

But all he got in return was a small hum in refusal as she was busy chewing her food.

…Osias didn't know how long it was before Myra let him go, but he didn't mind. It wasn't until she suddenly said that the food might get cool that they began to share the platter with each other.

Pulling the table right along the bedside where they sat, Myra decided to cuddle against his side as they ate like they'd done so many times before but just a little… closer.

“I helped Umber make the soup this time, you know — I sliced out thick cuts to broil in the broth he had prepared the night before and cooked the grains.”

“Mhm, and you even remembered the cheese and bread!” Myra laughed out.

‘That’s right… I remembered after all of that.’ Osias inwardly said a little nostalgically.

They continued to eat and chatted about silly things, like how the other maids began to treat Myra as well as they did when her father and uncle passed… perhaps writing Osias off as dead. It was nothing more than small talk, yet it was filling.

But eventually, Osias sensed a little reservedness from Myra as silence hung between them.

‘Of course… she’ll want to know.’

And just as Osias anticipated it, Myra abruptly asked:

“I’m sorry if it brings up awful memor–”

Osias waved a hand, gesturing to her that it was fine.

“It’s… I can talk about it. What do you want to know?” He asked.

Myra hummed curiously before asking something simple:

“How long did it take inside your Ordeal to complete? My father once said something about how time isn’t the same.”

Expecting something else, perhaps something heavier than that. He chuckled a little bit before answering:

“A little more than three years. I found the one I needed to… defeat quite earlier than that though. I was too weak, and it wasn’t the right place to do such a thing, otherwise, I would’ve failed and died.”

“Three years…” She echoed wistfully before adding quietly, “Can you tell me a little about those three years?”

“I can, but it’ll be a little long then. Three years… it passed by painfully slow.” Osias began to recall with a long face, staring at his empty bowl.

“I awoke in the middle of a raging war. An ashen sky covered most of the sun, yet all I could see were plains of men all fighting, yelling, screaming… dying. They all spoke another language too, something I came to know of and become fluent in after remaining there for so long.”

He shivered a little, and upon seeing that Myra turned towards him and set a soft hand on his lap.

“I fought endlessly. Days of battle and bloodshed… I–I didn’t know what else to do. All I knew was that if the soldiers who donned the same sigil as my own died, then I’d died alongside them. I took so many lives, that even if the enemy spoke a different language, I knew what the word ‘please’ was the moment it was said on their last breaths.”

Cradling the empty into his hand, Osias remained silent for a bit before continuing his retelling:

“I had followers as well. On the nights we rested and ate before our bonfires they taught me the language — their names too. Then, the following morning, I’d led them into battle, and emerged from it with them victoriously. And eventually, our banners won the battle.”

Osias paused and remained silent for a while before his face turned sour and he continued in a hoarse voice:

“But then… the war was brought to a grand city. Walls much higher than this fortress we are in and stretched long enough that I couldn’t imagine how large it was and how many people made home inside. I haven’t seen the mountain and valley cities of the Tailed Brothers, but I believe this one was quite large even compared to them… But I was on the side of assaulting this grand city. We failed in the end, and I along with my followers who managed to survive the fruitless attack were captured and brought inside, though not before we were lined up and executed.”

He then felt Myra’s hand pressing into his skin a touch harder in response to his words, but with a deep frown he continued:

“They died — those who followed me. The people I came to know in a place so unfamiliar to me. Many of them died whilst saying my name. Some died while fighting, some died before an executioner and many died in chains below the prison we were kept in — the prison I spent much of my three years in.”

Pain edged his words, and he the bowl he grasped cracked ever so slightly before he realized what he was doing before setting it on the table. He wore a sad smile before adding:

“I was starved and beaten. Every day… the others as well. We’d be taken to work endlessly in a tunnel beneath the city before returning to our cells. There, we’d be fed the wastes and leftovers of whoever was above. And in our meals, I conversed more and came to know the language better. There, I came to know more than the names of those who suffered alongside me… their pasts, their stories, and their homes — it wasn’t just myself either, they came to know each other better too.”

Putting a hand over Myra’s atop his lap, he softly brushed his fingers back and forth.

“But the guards and the warden… they’d take a handful of us above the cells, towards the courtyard. There, they’d command us to fight amongst each other or die where we stood. I was the first among this group… perhaps some of them recognized my face from the war, but I wasn’t sure. And in that handful of prisoners, I learned from, taught to, and suffered with… I killed them with my bare hands like animals.

Looking sadly into Myra’s sunken face, Osias grew silent as he reached the part of his Ordeal that tainted his mind and body. But he needed to tell Myra of it, he couldn’t stand for it otherwise — both for himself, but also for her. And through gritted teeth, then said quietly:

“There… was a woman who saw me fight — a courtesan of sorts, of high standing in the city as well. She took a liking to me and used her standing to pull me away from the cells and labor for hours at a time.”

Osias lowered his gaze because he couldn’t meet Myra’s eyes before adding in a shaky voice.

“...I’d share her bed whenever she called for me. Like her toy… or her pet.”

He was… guilty. Ashamed, even. He felt dirty, and far away from someone like Myr–

“It wasn’t your fault, Osias.”

Lifting his gaze, he saw Myra a little teary-eyed wearing a sad smile.

“It wasn’t your fault. All of it. Killing those men. Killing your own men. Having them die under you. Sharing her bed. Surviving — all of it… it wasn’t your fault, Osias.”

“What do you mea–”

Suddenly wrapping her shaky arms around him, she continued:

“You survived… you managed to come back. It’s alright, you don’t have to say anymore, I understand.”

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Sharing the same sad smile she wore, he thought to himself of how thankful and fortunate he was to know of such a person.

‘It feels like I died a lot to live a little with her.’ Osias wistfully recalled his time recovering after meeting her for the first time.

“Thank you.” He said in a weak whisper.

—

…Finishing the abundant bowls of soup once filled to the brim, they didn’t hesitate to move on to Umber’s fresh loaves of bread.

“Say, Myra. Do you happen to know where that… ring you made for me has gone? I… I don’t want to say I lost it, but when I awoke, I couldn’t find it.”

Myra flinched slightly, something he picked up from his blood sense rather than sight. Yet as he turned to face her, she responded in an odd tone.

“I don’t know. Maybe later we can go find it in that chamber if we have the time?” She laughed gently before changing the topic.

“...Can I ask about that new tattoo? How did you get it? And why a centipede? It’s been so long since I’ve returned to Clan Grimm’s home mountain and there aren’t many places to find that creepy creature that I had to take a moment to remember its nam–”

“Slow down!” Osias cut her off before answering one by one. “It’s… hard to explain how I’ve gotten it. But it was from my Ordeal, think of it as… ah! You know Nico? How he has a tail after achieving his First Ordeal? In a way it’s similar, but instead of a tail, I have a tattoo around my eye. Maybe because it’s fitting?”

“Nico… Clan Grimm’s guest from the Tailed Brothers?”

“Mm. As for why it's a centipede, I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that myself in the time I–” Osias suddenly cut himself off as his face turned fraught with alarm.

“Hm, Osias? What’s wrong?”

Osias didn’t respond, only letting go of the bread in his right arm before raising it to touch the centipede around his eye.

‘Hey… why does my essence not seem to flow right around it?’

The centipede — the relic of the Path of Blood didn’t come along with innate knowledge upon its use like Ordeal Abilities. Once he awoke, he simply knew how to use Blood Mend… but it wasn’t until now did he discovered something off with the centipede around his temple and eye.

Immediately focusing onto his essence around the area, Osias tried to figure out what was causing this sense of unease.

‘It’s… taking my essence.’ He realized this in just a single breath of time.

His fingers trembled as they traced the etched lines of the centipede, the foreign sensation now undeniable. It wasn’t a simple disruption — the tattoo was absorbing his essence, slowly but steadily. Each beat of his pulse sent a ripple of power, and the tattoo siphoned a portion of it, distorting the natural flow within him.

‘Why didn’t I notice this before?’ Osias wondered, his heart pounding as panic began to crawl in.

He closed his eyes and concentrated once more, pushing his essence toward the mark, attempting to control the flow. But the more he focused, the more the tattoo seemed to resist, like an insatiable leech drawing nourishment.

"Osias, do you need a moment?" Myra’s voice broke through, concern etched across her face.

He slowly dropped his hand and turned toward her, forcing a weak smile.

“Sorry, I was remembering how I’ve gotten it inside my Ordeal.”

“Ah, it must’ve hurt, right? That’s what you said about the others… sorry, I–”

Gently shaking his head and holding up a hand he cut her off:

“It’s fine, I’m alright. Sorry, Myra. Maybe I wasn’t doing as well as I thought I was coming outside of my Ordeal. Anyways… about Nico?”

‘I’ll figure out the repercussions of this… thing later.’

“He went to help outside and the Clan Head’s company in harvesting Path Beasts the moment you began your Ordeal. But…” Myra said, her words trailing off downcastedly and Osias narrowed his eyes.

“After almost a year of fighting and aiding the clan, a Second Tail came along with the escorts of the merchant company and took Nico back to the Heart Lands of their clan.”

Exhaling sharply, Osias was a little worried by how Myra initially worded the news, but he was relieved to find out that Nico hadn’t tragically died or worse fighting outside the fortress.

“Do you know why he returned with the Second Tail?”

“The word was that he’s seen fit to begin his Second Ordeal, but not here.”

“I see.”

‘Seen fit… does that mean the Second Tails have been here another time prior? Or can they simply tell by some means I don’t know…’

“I wanted to ask–” Myra said after swallowing a mouthful of food, “Did Umber or that clan’s guard say anything about what happened in the time you were away? A year… was long, especially for Clan Grimm.”

Osias continued to eat after shrugging his shoulders.

“The guard said that the clan has changed a lot.”

“I see…” Myra replied, her words trailed off. Osias looked over and saw a frown plastered on her pretty face.

“What happened?”

“...Somethings changed on the outside of the fortress. More Path Beasts attack in number, so much so that even Ordinaries like me were told of how dangerous it turned recently.”

“Why wouldn’t the clan head retreat–never mind, sorry.”

‘Perhaps that's why the Second Tail came in the first place… did Henrik request aid or if Clan Grimm has served the Tailed Brothers enough to return to their lands?’

“Mm. We can’t leave, not with the war brewing.”

“War?” Osias said with raised eyebrows.

‘Did the war between the Three Factions become common knowledge as of now?’

Myra’s face was concerned and a little frightened under the rising glare of daybreak. But rightly so… war was something she and her clan hadn’t experienced it seems. They were spared against the fighitng in the south against the Red Sky — in the Century of Blood, they were nothing more than suppliers of Path Beast carcasses at the most.

“The Tailed Brothers, it’s said that the eldest of the two, Atlan, leveled and burned down a Crestland Forest, something akin to a mountain or valley city in the Heartlands for us…”

“I see — so it's either kill and harvest Path Beasts in the Outer Valleys to aid the war or join the war personally… I think the clan head decided well.” Osias said somberly as what ensued in his Ordeal flashed through his mind.

Either choice was bound to incur the deaths of many, but at least Aeron could spare his clan from the ravages of man.

‘Kiran… was right. Osias has seen common men turn to savages before his eyes — even himself. Aeron was correct in his choice.’

But thinking of Kiran, Osias wondered where his elusive and powerful elder brother was. Those of the Blood Path cannot survive alone, and with the two of them sharing all that was left of the Red Sky, they needed each other.

“...My elder brother, did I tell you about him before?”

“A little when along with your family.”

“I see — I want to tell you about him. He’s the reason that’s brought me to you after all.”

Suddenly Myra’s frown curled into an intrigued face and shook her head, perhaps because Osias withheld a lot of his family and past, leaving much of it to interpretation on her own end.

“He was a Path Finder — strong too, the strongest I’ve seen for his level. He was the heir of not just our family, but our people as well. He was just eight moons older than me, yet he had achieved such feats too. But I think because of how strong he was, he wasn’t in my life for years — busy with being the heir as well as the training he has done to obtain such strength…

I think you’d like him, he looks a little like me but with deeper eyes and a rougher face — a little bigger too.” He said with a sad laugh.

Osias grabbed a covered cheese and began to unravel the tie that wrapped the cloth before breaking pieces to eat alone with the warm fresh bread.

“When soldiers and tailed ones descended onto our lands, he saved me as we escaped from the battle. He nursed me when I was injured, fed me when I couldn’t lift a finger to help, taught me how to fight, and much more when I recovered. We ran and escaped, leaving everything behind. Our families, home, people… but eventually on our run, I lost him.”

After taking some for himself, Osias pushed and offered the cheese to Myra before adding:

“Because I was a hindrance. Had he been alone, I can’t imagine anything could prevent him from reaching where he wanted to go unless it was the Tailed Brothers themselves… I want to find him and reunite with him. He must be hiding in the inlands, away from the sights of the tailed ones. Can we… can we return to the inlands together?”

“To where Clan Grimm presides?” She asked with a smile.

“Mm. I–my elder brother and I haven’t came across cities and the like during our escape. I wouldn’t know where to begin–”

But before he could ask her to leave this place with him… her face beamed and interrupted him.

“Let’s go! I’ll ask Henrik before the next time the merchants visit this fortress! I’ll take you to mothers home and…”

Osias didn’t catch the rest of her long rambling, and eventually her words blurred and blended together as they finished their first shared meal after years, but he was happy.

She talked and talked of their future, yet all he could think about was if the heavens were real… then she was the closest he’ll ever be to them right now.