Mei woke up early, as she always did to avoid another one of those terrifying encounters with her master. The habit had become second nature. She dressed quickly, her tunic and shoes slipping on without much thought, but her eyes lingered on the serpent tattoo etched on her left side. It was a beautiful design, with intricate scales winding around her skin. Yet, something about it made her uneasy. The mark felt less like a symbol of power and more like a brand—something forced upon her, a reminder that she was owned by the power that bore it.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of kinship with Vasu-Jin. Both of them, outcasts from their respective societies, bound by circumstances rather than choice. She thought of her mother, a woman with a beautiful, common face and ordinary blue eyes. Mei often wondered if her mother ever felt the weight of their shared bloodline, if she ever felt the same connection with the deity that Mei had come to understand. She didn’t think so. After all, if anyone didn't know her mother had a daughter with blue eyes, she would have blended into the crowd—just another woman trying to make her way in a world that often overlooked the weak.

As Mei stepped out into the early morning light, she found Master Nagisa in the courtyard, stretching beneath the soft glow of the rising sun. The day felt quiet, peaceful—calm in a way Mei rarely had the luxury of feeling.

"Master, what are we doing today?" Mei asked, trying to quell the anxiety that always bubbled beneath the surface when she spoke to her teacher.

Umi Nagisa let out a long yawn and stretched one last time before turning to Mei. "Seito, don't be too eager," she said, a playful glint in her eyes. "Or I might think yesterday's exercises weren't harsh enough."

Mei blinked in surprise, then smiled sheepishly. "I—I'm sorry, Master. I didn’t mean to—"

Nagisa waved her off with a flick of her hand. "Today we will be finding a weapon type that suits you," she said, her voice softening just slightly.

The words made Mei's heart leap. A weapon? She could finally choose one for herself? The excitement was overwhelming. "Really? I get to choose my weapon?" she asked, her voice full of childlike wonder.

Nagisa smirked, but it was a knowing smile. "Who said anything about choosing? You'll pick from the weapons that best suit your abilities," she said as she bent down to stretch her back.

Mei’s smile faltered a little. "I don't get to choose?"

Nagisa's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Who said that either? You get to choose from what's available, but I have a feeling there will be some limits."

"I suppose you're right," Mei said, nodding. She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Thanks, Master."

"Of course I’m right," Nagisa said with a roll of her eyes. "It would be better if you learned to accept that more often, Seito. Life will be easier that way."

Mei felt the awkwardness hang in the air for a moment before Nagisa’s expression softened again. "You’re still young, Mei. Still so much to learn. But the struggle... it will forge you into something stronger."

As her master stood up, Mei took a moment to think about the weight of those words. Struggle. She had known that word all too well. Her life had been a series of struggles—facing the stigma of being a half-blood, the constant uncertainty about her mother’s love, the lingering bitterness about her father’s death in the war. It felt like the world was always pushing against her, and she had to fight just to stand.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Before she could dwell on it further, Umi Nagisa began to move, her speed a blur. "Time to go to the weapons market, Mei," she called back. "Catch up."

Mei quickly dashed after her master, following her as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop. It was one of the few moments in the day when Mei felt free. Ei'en, the city of her youth, felt alive beneath her feet. The rooftops, uneven and scattered with narrow alleys, always seemed to pulse with energy. Even though she had lived here for years, the sight of the city still captivated her.

After several minutes of running, they arrived at the blacksmith district. Mei’s eyes widened as she took in the rows of vendors hawking their wares—shiny swords, glimmering armor, and all manner of exotic weaponry. But Nagisa had a singular purpose, bypassing all the other shops with a confident stride.

Finally, they reached a small, nondescript shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the district. The sign above it was old and peeling, but something about it made Mei pause. She had never seen this place before, and the shabby exterior seemed at odds with her master’s usual taste.

Nagisa opened the door with a creak, the dim light from the street filtering in through dusty windows. Inside, the air smelled of old leather and metal, mixed with the faint scent of something familiar. Mei’s heart skipped a beat as she saw the weapons lining the shelves. There was something nostalgic about them. The sight of the furs on display—familiar and rugged—reminded her of her father’s old shop in their village. The memories came rushing back, and for a moment, she felt a pang of longing.

"Mr. Itakura!" Nagisa’s voice called out cheerfully into the empty shop.

A familiar, gruff voice responded. "Well, well. Look who’s back. Didn’t think I’d see you again after you left Naebashi all those years ago."

Mei’s heart fluttered. The voice was unmistakable. "Mr. Itakura?" she whispered to herself, eyes wide with recognition.

Before she could say anything more, the old man himself shuffled out from behind the counter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "Mei, my dear! It's been far too long," he said, walking over to her.

Tears welled up in Mei's eyes as memories of her childhood flooded back. She hadn’t seen Mr. Itakura since her father had died in the war. She missed him. Missed the way he used to smile and tell her stories.

Nagisa raised an eyebrow, glancing at Mei. "You know him?" she asked, surprised.

Mei nodded quickly. "Yes, he was a friend of my father’s. He used to visit us all the time. I... I haven’t seen him in years."

Mr. Itakura chuckled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Your father and I had a good business going back then. He was a good man... I still think about him from time to time." His expression darkened slightly. "I keep in contact with your mother too. She’s doing well."

Mei’s heart sank at the mention of her mother. It had been almost a year since she’d last heard from her. "Mr. Itakura... where is my mother? She hasn’t written to me."

The old man’s face softened. "Ah... well, Mei, I have bad news on that front. Your mother left Ei'en about a year ago and moved to Sinsan, far to the east. She went to live with her uncle. I’m afraid she stopped coming here after that. I thought you’d know, but it seems her last letter never made it to you."

Mei’s chest tightened at the news. Her mother had left. She felt abandoned—alone in a way she hadn’t fully realized until now. But there was no anger. Just a hollow sadness, a sense of displacement. She thought of her father, gone in the war. She had never truly mourned him, had never allowed herself the luxury of feeling lost. It felt like too much of a burden, so instead, she’d built walls around herself.

Before she could respond, Mr. Itakura placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don’t worry, Mei. I’ll personally send a message to your mother. And don’t forget, you can always visit me if you ever feel lonely. You’re like family to me."

He then glanced down at the weapons he had set aside. "These here," he said, gently placing a pair of twin daggers in Mei’s hands, "are special. Calamity and Shadow. They’re old—very old. I’ve had them stored away for a long time, waiting for the right person to come along. The runes on them are... unusual. Not from Kuroian design, that’s for sure."

Mei looked down at the weapons, the weight of them feeling strangely right in her hands. The hilts were beautifully carved—red and black wood, slick and smooth to the touch. The blades gleamed with an otherworldly luster. Mei couldn’t explain it, but she felt an immediate connection to them.

Mr. Itakura smiled gently. "These will serve you well, Mei. Don’t disrespect them."

Mei nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "Thank you, Mr. Itakura. I won’t."