Katsurou has been turned into Hanabi’s personal ferryman.

Not that he minds, his little sister is a joy, but it’s a little exhausting.

They’ve decided on bringing Hanabi over once every five days for the past three months or so.

Still, between being able to hear the occasional chirps of sound from Hanabi and the time he spent with Rian and Xenia, something that Karina was teasing him mercilessly about, it was well worth the constant travel and the admonishments from the elders.

It was late, but Katsurou felt restless. He left a sleeping Hanabi in Iskra and Sasha’s care, the grumpy Volkodlak slowly growing on him. Like a fungus.

He was wandering the edges of town, edging dangerously close to the Forest when he felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Slowly, he turned around.

Nothing.

Something snapped in the Forest. His head whipped to the sound.

Nothing.

“You?”

Katsurou turned around towards the voice to see—

“Rian?”

He could recognize that moonlight hair from anywhere.

“What’re you doing out here so late? The Forest— are you alright?”

Rian stepped out of the shadows cast by the trees. His pale face was strained, dark circles under his eyes. His red eyes were flickering every which way.

“It can’t be you,” Rian rasped. “His eyes, they’re supposed to be red. I must be mistaken.” Rian closed his own eyes even as Katsurou felt as if someone had dumped ice water on him.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Rian, what are you talking—“

“Can you use Magic?”

“N-no, I’m not Blood—“ the familiar lie fell from his lips, but he was cut off when something came flying at him at an impossible speed.

On instinct, a wing came out to deflect the blow. The glamor Xenia always put over his eyes while he was in town dispelled at the use of Magic.

“You liar.” The words were broken from Rian. “A region under Akuma rule… I should have known.”

Katsurou glanced behind him to see the blow, whatever Rian had sent at him, had knocked off several secure branches from the trees. A high pitched ringing started in his head.

“I’m lying?” He asked, folding his wing in behind his back but not letting it dissapate into shadows, suddenly on guard in front of this stranger of a friend. “You just used Magic yourself. Who are you?”

Rian remained silent, simply raising a hand and curling his fingers into his palm.

The air around Katsurou seemed to grow thicker. He stepped towards Rian, trying to ignore the fact that he was panting for air now.

“Rian, we can talk this out, I promise, I’d never harm you—“

“Tell that to the Trojans—“

“They were hunting Hanabi’s mother—“ he was cut off as he seemed to… gurgle.

He was choking.

He coughed, water erupting from his mouth.

Panicking, he fell to his knees.

Rian’s eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. He was eerie, thin and pale due to his albinism.

Like a ghost.

Katsurou’s eyes widened, remembering reports of all the Ghost’s victims. Being dried up, drowned, boiled.

Anger and panic mixed, turned into a hot, desperate blaze in his gut. He fanned his arm out in a harsh motion, and a wave of red fire bloomed outwards.

The unexpected blaze had the Ghost stumbling back, his hand dropping as a tongue of flame wrapped around his body. He gasped in pain as blisters erupted on that delicate, pale skin.

Katsurou doubled over and vomited water.

Suddenly, two shadows peeled out of the darkness cast by the towering trees. One disappeared back into the Forest, the other barreled straight towards Katsurou.

He only had enough time to bring his arms up in a guard before he was being knocked over by the shadow and pinned.

Glaring purple eyes bore down at him, hands wrapped around his throat.

Katsurou wheezed, wrapping his own hands around the wrists of his assailant, sending heat into his palms to try and deter this person.

Ambushed. He had been ambushed.

Hanabi. He had to get to Hanabi, had to warn Iskra and Xenia, tell them Hestia was in danger—

“Darrogh!“ he heard through the buzzing starting to form in his head, “what are you doing here?! Where’s Mary?!”

The man above him— a boy, really, a strong one, wearing Sidhe colors, said something else, but he suddenly couldn’t hear, dirt and soil starting to crawl up his body.

The Sidhe heir, he realized, there were stories about this child.

His vision was blurring. The heat in his palms was dying, and he was starting to limp.

He closed his eyes.