"I guess it really was a whole millennia ago, when that Great Schism went down. But, believe it or not, me and a few other faces go back even further than that."

"Even further than the Great Schism...?" Kyoya echoed. He'd been taught of the old war, recounted as stories spun of silken memories, weaved into accounts of the single most atrocious event in Takera's extended history. Despite how frequently he'd been told the tale, it seemed that every time someone offered a piece of the story yet to be uncovered.

It was no surprise to him that this could be one such occasion.

"Yeah, believe it or not. But I'll clarify that saying we—being me and these unnamed few—go that far back isn't so accurate. From how it's supposed to go, our Threads of Fate are the parts of us that knew one another way back when. Us today are as good as strangers, compared to how it used to be."

The Seraph maintained her look at the starry sky. Glistening amber orbs compounded an already immaculate nighttime scene, and the Miscreant felt that her boundless curiosity was looking well past even the furthest he could see.

"I think I'm beginning to tie things up, now," he noted. The pain in his head scratched at his temples, but it was very noticeably less intense—so little now that it was no more than a minor headache. "I'm feeling a bit of that migraine, but there's no going back now."

She laughed and nodded.

"Okay—I'll hurry it up, then. The tale goes something like this..." Lyric poised herself and closed her eyes, appearing to clear her mind. She caught him on his heels, though: the Seraph had began to sing. Her voice became harmonic and smooth—light at levels previously unknown to him.

In that, her hymn to the ages had begun. "O' Legends of nine, o' heroes of time, millennia grants us thine. Dark yet darker, pushed far yet farther, to the Void will they resign. Hope for the light, Glory for the fight. Potential to prevail, Balance will entail. From Valor to bare, comes Comfort to share. With Pace comes ease, and Love brings these, Being truly is ye: O' Legends of nine, o' heroes of time..."

Kyoya was dumbstruck enough to have to be nudged again. "Hey, gimme a break... I don't sing as often as I'd like to, so practice is far from consistent—"

"No, that's not it at all! That was great! It's up there with the best I've heard anyone say it, even if I haven't heard it from many—"

The Miscreant had to pause to keep himself from staring off a second time. She was hiding part of her face with overhanging hair, but he definitely caught a bit of a smile before she turned back to him.

"Well, if you think it's alright, I guess I won't worry too much." The girl seemed to have recovered from her momentary outage, reattaining a cool and collected manor. "If I'm thinking about this right, there's eight more people out there like me... and, if I'm being honest, I've been wondering if see a bit of one of them in you. Call it a hunch."

Lyric looked neither excited nor depressed to have made such a statement, instead bringing out that signature curious indifference to her skyward stare.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Me? I don't know how you'd figure that, but..." Kyoya spoke as memories seemed to remove their veils of mystery. "Hope, Glory, Potential, Balance, Valor, Comfort, Pace, Love, and Being... Legends of nine..."

He looked to the Seraph, "If you have something to do with that, then you're saying...?"

"Yeah. The legend states that generations after the old war, bearers of those nine traits personified joined together to prevent the Great Schism's arrival all over again... But if the geeks are telling the truth, then something between then and now threw the whole spool of Fate's strings out of whack."

Her explanation continued. "So, now, nobody has any way of telling what's gonna happen. It's already gone against what was said to be the only way things could have turned out, because I was never supposed to find any trace of the others—not now, and not ever."

Even if processing the thought was impossible, there was some success in this. The intricacies of Fate were ever-so-slightly clearer to him now, and as he'd learned earlier, any victory was one to cherish in a world where a single defeat meant the end.

"Then I'll color myself lucky... But, hey, thanks for all this. I've got about all I need for now—my head's a bit too short on storage for much else."

Lyric looked as though she'd still harbored some concern, stammering out words until she could put a sentence together.

"That didn't make you hurt at all, did it?"

"Nah, it wasn't anything nearly as rough as in the street. Maybe the singing put anything left over to rest."

The Seraph made a pouty face and crossed her arms, sighing lightly before furthering their exchange.

"Let's consider that my way of saying sorry for the street incident, then. I've-... I've been wanting to apologize, but just saying sorry wouldn't have cut it. Not after something like that."

"Simmer down, alright? Thousand-year-friends or not, you've already done plenty to make up for it. After all, how're we gonna get along if something as little as that was enough to get at me?

Despite how inherently ridiculous all that she was spouting off sounded, he didn't raise any eyebrows. With a mostly accurate gut, this was the only seal of approval he'd need.

Lyric kept her arms crossed. She hadn't quite lost that pout.

"Don't take this as a complaint, but now I'm dying to know—and if you got to ask why I want you around, I get my fair share," she stated. "Why're you so willing to believe me? I'm sure you've bumped heads with customers plenty tougher than me who didn't seem an inch more convincing at first glance."

Kyoya's answer was drenched with simplicity.

"I've just got a bit of an intuition: never once done me wrong, never will. When something's up, I tend to pick up on it—and, at least so far, nothing you've said has tripped any triggers, so I'm inclined to think you're being straight with me."

Skepticism showed as clearly in her eyes as the shine on the sun.

"What're the odds it's failing you as we speak?"

"How d'ya think I figured out that we were dealing with a Demon before the wall even fell?"

"Damn... That's a good point."

Kyoya jumped at the chance to return the favor of her teasing, beginning his ploy with a nudge to her shoulder.

"Get used to it; good points are about all I put up."

However, she, too, didn't seem to leave a retort unsaid.

"We'll see about that, golden ticket: call us one-one. Score's even"

"...Guess I can't let my guard down 'round you, can I?"

"Sure can't!"