Cira pulled Lina's coat from under the bed, her fingers trembling as she shook off the dust that settled on its deep red fabric. The coat was familiar, every stitch a memory—those black threads around the collar that Lina had sewn herself after a tear, the subtle patch along the side from that time they’d stumbled, laughing, over a rock by the river. She ran her thumb over the stitches, feeling each one like a silent reminder, but she forced herself to push the memories back. Now wasn’t the time.
Throwing the coat over her shoulders, she felt its weight settle around her, like Lina herself was there, grounding her. She took a deep breath, steeling herself as she stepped out of the house and into the quiet morning. Only a few hours since the Ascended had come. Only a few hours since… She clenched her jaw, her fists tightening at her sides. She couldn’t fall apart now, not when there was still so much to be done.
The village around her was silent, a stillness that seemed to echo with the emptiness left behind. She noticed a faint trail of smoke in the distance, wisps curling from the forge, but other than that, everything was too quiet, too still, as if even the village held its breath in the wake of what had happened.
She took one last look back at her home, then turned and set her jaw, heading toward the forge. She knew what she had to do, and nothing—not grief, not the quiet horror that pressed down on her chest—would stop her now.
—----------
Normally, Garel would be hammering away at his workbench, or villagers would be lingering nearby, chatting and bringing him pieces to repair. But tonight, the forge was silent, empty, it's only company the shadows stretching across the stone walls.
Cira slipped inside, her fingers brushing against the cold steel of the weapons left behind. The forge smelled of oil and metal, a sharp scent that stung her nose and brought her mind back to every sparring session, every training hour she’d ever spent here. She took a deep breath, grounding herself in those memories as she approached the shelves holding the weapons.
Her gaze swept over the racks, looking for anything that might give her an edge. There, on the shelf near the back, was an old plasma gun Garell Had been working on—slightly battered, but functional. She picked it up, feeling the weight of it in her hands. It wasn’t as powerful as some of the newer weapons, but it would do.
Next to the plasma gun was an energy blade, the edges duller than usual but with the faintest hum of life. She flipped the switch experimentally; the blade flickered to life with a weak, wavering glow. She knew it wouldn’t hold up long in a fight, but for what she had in mind, it didn’t have to be perfect.
Satisfied, Cira strapped the gun to her hip, the blade resting against her side. As she adjusted the cape over her shoulders, she took one last look around the forge.
As Cira turned to leave the forge, her steps halted at the sight of a figure blocking the doorway. Rian stood there, silhouetted in the dim light, his face pale and drawn. His left sleeve was pinned at the shoulder, the fabric hanging empty where his arm used to be. Shadows gathered under his eyes, his usual vitality replaced by a gaunt, hollow expression that twisted Cira’s heart.
«Cira…» His voice was hoarse, as though it hurt just to speak. He scanned her, taking in the red cape, the gun strapped to her hip, and the faint glow of the energy blade at her side. He didn’t need to ask what she was planning.
«Get out of my way, Rian.» Cira’s voice was steel, her gaze steady as she looked past him, already mapping her path.
«Cira,» he repeated, his tone a low plea. «You can’t do this.»
She clenched her jaw, gripping the hilt of the energy blade. «They came here, Rian. They took from us, from me… What am I supposed to do? Stand by and let them walk away like nothing happened?»
His gaze fell, his shoulders sagging. «And you think walking into their den with a half-broken blade and an old plasma gun is going to change anything? You’re not… I just—» He paused, his remaining hand flexing like he was trying to hold onto something already slipping away. «I don’t want to lose anyone else, Cira. Not you, too.»
«You think I don’t know it’s reckless?» Her voice cracked, and she forced herself to steady it. «But Lina’s gone, Rian. She’s gone, and they just… they just left.» Her words broke off, replaced by a tremor in her hands. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
Rian took a step forward, his hand reaching out to steady her. «Cira, I get it. More than anyone, I get it. But vengeance…» He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. «It’s not going to bring her back. You think I don’t want to make them pay, too? But this—going after them alone—it’s a death wish.»
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A slow clap sounded from the shadows, and Cira turned to see Jacc leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small, knowing smile on his face. She noticed, not for the first time, that Jacc always kept himself covered, his sleeves reaching to his wrists, gloves shielding his hands, and thick boots covering every inch from his feet to his calves. Only his face, weathered and scarred, was ever exposed. She’d never really thought about it before, but now, as he approached, it struck her as strangely deliberate. «Well, it seems we’ve got a full-blown council meeting in the forge tonight,» he said, glancing between Rian and Cira.
Rian shot him a glare, but Jacc held up a hand. «Before you start, I agree with you, Rian. Going off on a personal crusade—especially in the state she’s in—is suicide.» He looked at Cira, his eyes steady. «But I also know telling you to walk away won’t change a damn thing. Once you’ve got something in your head…»
Cira met his gaze, feeling both seen and stubbornly set. «I’m not going to stand by, Jacc. I can’t.»
Cira’s hands tightened around the worn grip of the gun she’d taken, her determination flickering. Jacc’s steady voice held a grounding weight, somehow both calming and painful.
Jacc held up a hand, his voice softer. «No, not saying that. I know what it’s like to lose someone. I know what it feels like to want to burn down the world if it means just one moment of justice, or whatever twisted version of it you think you’ll find. But acting on rage? It’s risky. It’ll get you killed.»
She glared at him, the weight of her anger and grief pressing down on her. “And what else am I supposed to do, Jacc? Wait until they come back and take someone else?”
Jacc sighed, running a hand through his hair. «Look. You’re right to feel how you feel. None of this is fair, and yeah, maybe we should be doing something. But if you’re set on this… If you can’t be convinced otherwise…» He paused, giving her a long, steady look. «Listen.» Jacc extended a hand toward the weapon at her side, and for a moment, his tone turned almost gentle. «The stuff you took from Garel’s forge? It’s half-finished junk, barely serviceable. The energy blade will probably die before you can even land a single hit. And that gun?» He shook his head with a low chuckle. «You’d be lucky if it didn’t blow up in your hand.»
She looked down at the weapon and then back at Jacc, frustration and embarrassment mingling on her face.
Sighing, Jacc reached down to the holster on his belt, his fingers brushing over a gun that looked unlike anything Cira had ever seen. It had the raw, practical look of an old-world gun, mixed with the sleek lines of plasma technology, a hybrid of past and present. He pulled it free and held it out to her. «This,» he said firmly, «is the real deal. Plasma charge, old-world gunpowder backup. Won’t fail on you halfway through.»
Her eyes widened as she took the weapon from him, feeling the weight in her hands. It was heavier than anything from the forge, the grip solid and reassuring. She looked up, searching his face for a hint of hesitation, but Jacc’s expression remained steadfast.
Cira turned the heavy weapon over in her hands, its weight a grounding reminder of the danger ahead. She looked up at Jacc, brow furrowed. «Are you sure about this? This is your favorite gun,» she said, her voice a mix of gratitude and hesitation. Jacc wasn’t known for giving up his gear easily, especially not something so valuable.
He shrugged, crossing his arms as he watched her inspect it. «Favorite or not, it’s gonna be more useful in your hands right now.» His gaze softened, and he added, «You’ll need something reliable if you’re going after them. That gun won’t fail you, even if things go sideways.»
She held the weapon a little closer, the weight of it grounding her in the moment, its cold steel against her palm filling her with a new determination. “Thank you, Jacc,” she murmured, barely managing to get the words out.
“Not done yet.” Jacc reached into his pack, producing a sleek, dark energy blade. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen—its edge was razor-sharp, glinting even without the familiar hum of activated energy. Unlike the usual, blunt energy-blades that only sharpened when powered, this one was crafted with precision, its very metal keen even before the energy was added.
«This,» Jacc explained, handing it over with a certain reverence, «is one of a kind. She’s sharp on her own, but when the energy kicks in, it’s like cutting through the air. Consider it a parting gift.»
Cira took the blade, awed by the intricate craftsmanship. She could feel its potential, a latent power in her grip, a weapon that demanded respect. «Jacc… I don’t know what to say.»
«Then don’t,» he replied, his tone softening. «Just… come back.» He met her eyes, an unspoken worry in his gaze. «Don’t let this be a one-way mission, Cira. Make sure we’ll see you on the other side.»
Rian’s voice cut through the silence, his tone forceful but tinged with desperation. «If you’re really going after them, I’m coming too.» He stepped forward, his face pale and gaunt, but his eyes fierce.
Cira turned to him, her grip tightening on the new weapons. «Rian, you can’t. You’re still hurt, and we both know this isn’t your fight.»
Rian’s jaw clenched, his gaze hardening. «You think I can just sit here after what happened? They took my arm, Cira. They took Lina from us. I won’t stay behind, not for this.»
Jacc crossed his arms, his expression steady. «Rian, listen to her. You’re in no shape to go out there. A fight like this needs someone at full strength. Right now, that’s Cira—not you.»
Rian’s frustration was evident, his fist clenching as he looked between them, trying to form a response. «I can still fight! I know I’m not at my best, but I can still do something.»
«Maybe,» Cira said, her voice softening. «But we both know what the Ascended are capable of. I need to know you’re here, keeping everyone else safe, in case… in case I don’t come back.» Her voice wavered but held steady as she met his eyes.
Jacc laid a firm hand on Rian’s shoulder, a look of understanding passing between them. «She’s right, Rian. We need someone here, watching over the village, looking out for the others. Right now, you’re their best defense. Since I won't stay.»
Rian’s gaze snapped over to Jacc. «What? Why?!»
Jacc shrugged. «Me and my group have other things to take care of. So you need to stay and keep this Village safe. Together with Krut and the Rest of your troup.»
Rian’s shoulders sagged, and he looked down, the fire in his eyes dimming. After a moment, he let out a reluctant sigh. «Fine,» he muttered, his voice barely audible. «But you better come back.»
Cira nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, though her heart felt heavy. «I’ll do everything I can.»
She took one last look around the forge, its familiar walls now feeling distant and empty, as if saying a final goodbye. The smell of metal and oil, once comforting, now seemed heavy with loss. She adjusted the new gun in its holster and gripped the energy blade tightly, feeling the unusual sharpness of its edge.
Without another word, she pushed past Rian. The forge’s shadows danced across her figure as she walked out, leaving behind everything she knew. Outside, the village lay quiet, the weight of recent events hanging in the air.
As she stepped out into the cool evening, a light breeze caught the edge of Lina’s cape, pulling it around her shoulders like a shield. She didn’t look back.