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NEGATIVE REDEMPTION
A SPARK OF HOPE

A SPARK OF HOPE

The moon cast an ethereal glow upon the cobbled streets of Orstone as Jaxith, a silent shadow, pursued his quarry. An hour had passed since he’d started following Irene’s scent, a trail of fear and desperation leading him through the labyrinthine alleys. He couldn’t abandon her, not now. He,of all people, understood her plight, her loneliness, and her fear. As the scent grew stronger, a sense of urgency replaced his initial concern. Finally, as he neared his destination, his pace slowed, a calm resolve settling over him.

Irene huddled against a cold, damp wall, her knees drawn to her chest while crying. Her head throbbed with a mix of grief and confusion. The horrific scene replayed in her mind: Flen, Leo, Michael, everyone of them, they’re now gone, forever. They were more than just friends; they were her family, the only family she had ever known. Now, they were gone, victims of a senseless massacre.

Guilt gnawed at her. Had she stayed, could she have prevented the tragedy? Was her impulsive robbing for the mayor's a fatal mistake? She started questioning herself the reason for escaping now, the world outside offered no solace, no refuge for a demon hybrid like her, then why did she escape? She was alone, a pariah, a creature of darkness. The thought of suicide, a swift end to her suffering, crossed her mind. As she reached for the dagger at her side, a shadow loomed over her.

Her gaze met the eyes of the enigmatic stranger at the other end of the alley, the same man who had stopped her earlier in the market and also saved her from the assassin. Fear and confusion warred within her. Why would he risk his life to save her? She didn’t know him, didn’t trust him. The horrifying sounds that had pursued her as she fled echoed in her mind, a chilling reminder of the danger that was at the hideout. The terrifying howls and snarls of the demonic hound sent shivers down her spine. She had fled in terror, not daring to look back, her heart pounding in her chest. She had assumed he had fallen victim to whatever creature was back there, another casualty of the assassin’s horrors.

Jaxith stood before her, a wave of relief washing over him. Yet, just after he stepped forward, she raised her dagger, her small frame trembling with fear and rage, her face drenched with tears. “I will do it this time, I don’t care about your strength. I have nothing left to lose. DO YOU HEAR ME?!” Irene screamed threateningly, her voice echoing in the silent night, more tears streaming down her face.

Jaxith advanced confidently, unfazed by her threats. “Are you deaf?” Irene shouted. “Step back, you idiot! I don’t want your help or anyone else’s. Just leave me alone!” Irene screamed, her voice raw with despair. The weight of her loss had shattered her confidence, her world reduced to a shattered mirror. The once self-assured demon hybrid, accustomed to the judgmental glances of others because of those who respected her as she is, now found herself consumed by self-doubt and a profound sense of isolation after their death, they were the ones who always supported her and made her confident in herself. The tragic deaths of her friends, a direct consequence of her fatal selfish mistake, had eroded her will to live. Unable to forgive herself for her perceived failings, she had retreated into a shell of despair, distrusting everyone, including the enigmatic stranger before her.

“Wasn’t their death enough?” Irene whispered, her voice trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at him, her eyes filled with a profound sadness and self-loathing.

Jaxith remained silent. He saw in her eyes a reflection of a kid he had forgotten a long time ago, a young soul lost in darkness, consumed by despair in that rainy night. He remembered the cold, damp cave, the fear that gripped the short silver haired kid’s heart and shined across his red eyes, the knife clutched tightly in his trembling hand while threatening a dark haired man in his late forties. And then, there was the outstretched hand, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times for that kid.

“You won’t kill me, I know that,” Jaxith assured her, taking another step forward.

Irene retreated, her resolve wavering. She knew she wouldn’t strike him. She had never killed a human before, never even thought of it, even under such circumstances. Despite her despair, her inherent humanity prevented her from taking another life.

“You’re right, I can’t do it,” Irene murmured, her voice barely audible. “My life has been a constant struggle, a series of missteps, but I kept pushing through it with the people who loved me the way I’m, they loved me unconditionally, but in the end, they were killed by my own mistake, I don’t know if you’re friend or foe, but I think ending this miserable life would be the best solution for all parties.” With a deep breath, she raised the dagger rapidly towards her neck while closing her eyes, her intent clear, ending her life.

Irene awaited the inevitable sting, but it never came. Her eyes flew open to find the enigmatic stranger standing before her, his hand firmly gripping Irene’s hand holding the dagger. In a blink, he had closed the distance between them, a feat that defied logic, she was sure that there were a few meters between them, it was impossible for him to reach her. A strange, inky mist swirled behind him that Irene didn’t see, a mysterious force that seemed to defy the laws of reality.

“You don’t want to do this,” Jaxith insisted, his eyes wide with fear. He had barely managed to intercept her desperate attempt, a close call that had sent a shiver down his spine. “Believe me.”

Irene struggled against his grip, her anger fueling her resistance. “And what do you know about me?” she demanded, her voice laced with bitterness.

“Enough to tell that suicide isn’t the solution.”, Said Jaxith calmly while holding her hand tightly.

“Let me go!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face while pushing Jaxith as hard as she could from his chest until he let her go, but without the dagger, he was holding it in his hand.

“Satisfied now?” Jaxith asked, his tone confident and unwavering.

Irene scoffed, her anger palpable. “No, I’m not. Why do you care? I don’t know you, don’t trust you, so why do you bother? Just give me the damn dagger and leave me alone.” Her words, though harsh, masked a deep vulnerability. Despite her tough exterior, she was a fragile soul, scarred by tragedy and fear.

“Irene, I understand your pain,” Jaxith said calmly.

“You don’t,” Irene retorted, her voice laced with bitterness.

“I do,” Jaxith insisted. “I’ve faced darker times, endured greater loss.”

Irene scoffed. “What could be worse than this? I’ve lost my family, my only source of love and acceptance, you don’t even understand how important it is for a hybrid like me to have people accepting her. I’m lost, confused to the level that I don’t even know why I’m still talking to you, and utterly alone. And you dare to claim that you’ve suffered more?” Her voice rose, her anger palpable, she can’t accept that Jaxith claims suffering more than what she did just witness.

“Yes, I have,” Jaxith replied, his voice steady. “I’ve lost everything – loved ones, homes, entire worlds, everything was taken from me in minutes. I’ve witnessed unspeakable horrors, heard the cries of the innocent, my people, and been powerless to intervene. I was younger than you when it happened, a child forced to bear the weight of unimaginable loss. But I persevered, someone told me that the best way to heal these wounds is to become stronger, so you could prevent something like that from happening again, I learned that strength comes from adversity. Your situation, tragic as it is, is not your fault.” He was handling the situation perfectly fine.

“If it’s not my fault, then whose is it?” Irene asked, her tone softening.

“That’s what we will find together, all I need from you is to trust me, Irene, I promise to bring this person but you need to stop blaming yourself, or guilt will consume you, I know it’s hard, but you must learn to adapt, to overcome. Life will always throw challenges your way. It’s up to you to catch them, if you don’t know how to catch, then learn to catch or bring a catcher.”, Said Jaxith.

“And I assume you’re the catcher,” Irene mused, her tone softening even more.

Jaxith smiled. “Or perhaps the one who will teach you how to catch. Who knows?” He extended the dagger towards her, offering it back with a smile.

Irene hesitated, her gaze locked on Jaxith. His words had resonated with her, igniting a spark of hope within her. She accepted the dagger, a symbol of her past pain and future strength.

Though her heart ached with grief, she refused to succumb to despair. He’s right, She shouldn’t let the darkness consume her. With newfound resolve, she stowed the dagger away before looking down.

“You’ve made the right choice,” Jaxith affirmed.

Irene, her heart heavy with grief, sank to her knees. Irene covered her face with her hands, her body wracked with sobs. She quietly mourned the loss of her friends, no, her family, the only ones who had ever truly understood her.

The time had come for a gentle touch. Jaxith knelt before her, his arms outstretched. He cradled her head, offering solace and comfort for the heartbroken, sobbing hybrid. She needed to be held, to be understood. As he gazed at the moonlit sky, a sense of peace washed over him. For the first time he feels that he had done the right thing for once. For the first time in his life, he felt a profound sense of purpose.

A haunting memory surfaced in Jaxith’s mind: the desperate plea for help, Irene’s cry from the depths of despair in his nightmare. Was the assassin merely a harbinger of greater threats? A harbinger of a larger, more sinister plot?

His gaze still focused on the moon, lost in thought. Why had he dreamt of such a thing? What did it portend for the future? The roar that echoed through his dream, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked in the shadows, why was that exact roar present in this dream? It’s like Jaxith knows something about this roar. As he watched, he noticed Irene’s sobs begin to subside, her body gradually relaxing. A sense of peace washed over him, a quiet satisfaction at having offered solace in her darkest hour, but wait, is she getting heavier?

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In kingdom Legnica, dawn painted the sky above a towering, rocky mountain with hues of gold and pink, a serene backdrop to the awakening world. A chorus of birdsong filled the air, a harmonious symphony of nature. Yet, this idyllic scene was soon shattered by a sudden shift in the weather. A tempestuous wind whipped across the mountain, heralding the arrival of a violent storm that appeared from nowhere. In the heart of the tempest, a fiery inferno erupted, merging with the raging winds to create a cataclysmic spectacle.

From the heart of this chaotic maelstrom emerged two figures, their forms cloaked in elemental power. One, a creature of wind, its body bathed in emerald light, soared through the sky, unleashing a torrent of verdant energy wind-like slashes. The other, a being of fire, its form ablaze with crimson flames, countered with a barrage of fiery projectiles. Their battle was a breathtaking display of power and skill, each move a deadly dance of offense and defense.

They landed with a synchronized grace, the fiery figure crashing to the ground with a thunderous impact. A plume of smoke and flame erupted from his form, revealing a monstrous creature. His head, adorned with menacing horns, exhaled streams of fire, his eyes glowing with infernal light. His body, a grotesque amalgamation of muscle and flame, was as tough as tempered steel. His leathery flaming wings, marked by prominent bone structures, spread wide, casting a shadow of dread. The air around him crackled with intense heat, a miniature inferno.

In contrast, the wind creature landed with ethereal lightness, it’s clear she’s a female. Her slender, lithe form, cloaked in emerald light, was a stark contrast to the fiery behemoth. Her head, adorned with delicate, translucent appendages, framed a pair of captivating emerald eyes. Her wings, long (even longer than him) and graceful, shimmered with an otherworldly glow, granting her unparalleled agility and maneuverability in air combat.

Her helmet-like head began to glow, slowly dissipating to reveal a stunning visage. Her emerald eyes, a captivating shade of green, contrasted sharply with her raven-black hair, styled in an elegant braid. Her fair complexion and striking features exuded an ethereal beauty. Standing at an imposing height of nearly six feet, she faced the fiery behemoth, her posture radiating strength and determination.

“Don’t you think that your spiritual form is causing a bit of a heatwave in here? That thing’s a walking volcano,” the woman teased, her armor shimmering in green just like the helmet before and dissipating to reveal a lithe, athletic figure in training clothes. Her emerald eyes sparkled with amusement as she regarded her fiery counterpart.

“Says the one who just conjured a mini-monsoon,” the fire elemental retorted, his voice a deep, rumbling growl. The intensity of fire increased as his form shifted, the flames receding to reveal a towering figure, his muscular frame clad in sleek, metallic armor. His fiery red hair, piercing blue eyes, and chiseled features exuded a raw power and undeniable charisma. At a towering height of six foot four, he stood a formidable figure, definitely someone in the military.

“Fine, we’re even, tough one.” The woman replied, a playful glint in her emerald eyes.

“Anyway, you’ve improved a lot, princess Leonora, your control over your holy bound spirit has grown much through the past several months, told you that the dragons don't choose wrong, they know who they are choosing, the strength of your own soul is what will guarantee you to control this strong spirit, and the purity of your soul so as not to use this enormous power in nothing else than good.”, Said the red haired man calmly.

“Thank you, Scaldris, General Scaldris, given your position here in Legnica of course,” Leonora replied, her tone respectful.

Scaldris chuckled. “At your service, Princess. But I’d like you to dispense with formalities. Outside of our powers, I’m just a general while you’re a royal princess.”

“Scaldris, you are not even a general in my kingdom, at least some formalities should be kept, and you’ve told me before that the three holy bound spirits are nearly of the same strength so you aren’t much less than me, in fact you, as the infernal holy spiritual knight, are equally important as me, the storm holy spiritual knight.”, Said princess Leonora.

Scaldris smiled, content with her acknowledgment. “I am satisfied,” he replied.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude, Scaldris,” Leonora said sincerely. “Without your guidance, I wouldn’t have progressed so far. Your expertise has been invaluable.”

Scaldris waved her thanks aside. “You’re welcome, Princess. I respect you deeply, and it’s my duty to help you harness your power. After all, we’re carriers for kindred spirits, bound by the same extraordinary destiny.”

“I know, but I feel it’s imperative to express my gratitude for your guidance.” Leonora replied, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“But I want to ask you something. Do you believe I’m ready? Can I truly become a beacon of hope for my people, like my father?”

“Leonora,” Scaldris began, his voice gentle yet firm, “please, be confident in yourself, first of all, your value as a future queen isn't related to your strength as a spiritual knight, second thing, Imperos choose you, no one except you, when he decided that the next storm holy spiritual knight would be you he wasn’t trying his luck, those three holy dragons are the strongest beings in our realm, blessed by the gods to maintain the balance in our realm, on Plistura, when Sear choose me as the next infernal holy spiritual knight he wasn’t trying his luck too, look at me now, the same thing about Ramiel, look at him now, it is even told that he is the best thunder holy spiritual knight to come in history, those dragons choose only to bind with a trustworthy human soul, a strong one too, you are strong, Leonora, you just need to trust yourself, you should know that your simple wind slashes are a Killing machine, you could kill an entire army just by those, we aren’t a normal spiritual knights, we are the great holy spiritual knights.”, Said Scaldris in a positive attitude, raising Leonora’s confidence.

“Two years, and you still manage to surprise me,” Leonora admitted, a warm smile gracing her lips. “I truly appreciate your guidance and support, Scaldris.”

Scaldris returned the smile. “It’s my pleasure, Princess.”

“Speaking of our fellow Guardians, I haven’t heard from Ramiel in quite some time. Is he well?” Leonora inquired.

“Ramiel’s always been a quiet one as you know,” Scaldris chuckled. “That blonde elf is as exciting as a rock, but he’s a good soul, a truly noble spirit.”

Leonora couldn’t help but smile. “I think we should call him the ‘Old Elf,’” she teased.

Scaldris chuckled, “Well, a 62-year-old elf is still young by elven standards, just as young as you. But I suppose that nickname is fitting.”

“Anyway, I heard that you are planning to leave, you are ready for departing, but do know that you will be missed.”, Said Scaldris.

“Just fly over Kozelsk and pay a visit, it’s not that far, and I still need to improve my connection with Imperos.”, Said Leonora.

“How is that progressing?” Scaldris inquired.

Leonora sighed. “Our interactions have been brief, fleeting moments. Establishing a deeper connection between my soul and the Storm Dragon’s spirit is proving to be quite challenging.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Scaldris cautioned. “Establishing a complete bond between our souls and the bound spirits isn’t an easy task, the complete fusion between our souls and them is something that’s reached by experience and age, a full fusion means the maximum potential a spiritual knight could reach with his bound spirit, that's a something that Ramiel reached a few years ago making him the strongest spiritual knight right now, and one of the best holy spiritual knights to ever come, when someone reaches that level he could even summon his bound spirit to fight by his side for longer time, there’s even a fewer normal spiritual knights who reached that level, so yes, it’s a very hard thing to accomplish, it’s a testament to the immense power and complexity of these beings, you are still 23, so just a simple bond with Imperos will be enough, about 10% fusion between your soul and him will be enough for you, I still haven’t passed half the road for a complete fusion between me and Sear and I’m doing just fine as you see, no need to worry about that, Ramiel told me before it's about time, hardworking and pure trust in your bound spirit.”, Said Scaldris in a reassuring manner.

“I will do my best,” Leonora replied, her determination unwavering. With a simple gesture, she commanded the wind, calming the tempestuous storm. The clouds parted, revealing a clear, serene sky.

“You’ve come a long way, Princess,” Scaldris commended, his voice filled with admiration. “I believe that the first female holy spiritual knight is destined to become one of the greatest Holy Spiritual Knights of all time.”

Leonora smiled, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence. She harnesses the power of the Storm Dragon, a testament to her growing strength” and mastery.

Irene slowly blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the soft glow of the wooden ceiling. The unfamiliar surroundings triggered a wave of confusion. She isn’t in the shadow seekers hideout, Where was she? The last thing she remembered was the cold, unforgiving night, the comforting embrace of a stranger. A sense of peace washed over her as she recalled the warmth of his presence, a feeling of safety she hadn’t experienced before, like a young girl with her older brother.

Irene sat up, her gaze drawn to the figure cleaning his black bloodied sword, his back was directed to her bed, he couldn't see she was awake.

“Finally awake,” Jaxith remarked calmly, his voice barely audible.

“How did you know I was awake?” Irene asked, puzzled. She hadn’t made a sound.

“I have a knack for sensing things, got my own talents,” Jaxith replied while still cleaning his sword and not looking back, his tone nonchalant. His quiet confidence intrigued her, even as it confused her.

“Where are we? How did I get here?” Irene asked, her voice filled with confusion.

“We’re in an inn room,” Jaxith replied, his voice calm. “You passed out while crying last night, a common reaction to the trauma you experienced by the way.” He turned his sword on his lap to clean the other side of the blade.

Irene was stunned by the realization, and a little shy too, as if she was a little kid. The weight of the tragedy she had witnessed settled upon her once more. She turned to Jaxith, her voice filled with curiosity. “What’s your name?" she asked.

“Jaxith,” he replied simply.

“Well…., nice to meet you, Jaxith,” she began, her tone hesitant, “I think I owe you a thank you, at least, but you can’t blame me for what happened yesterday, I was in a state of shock, unable to trust anyone. But you brought me here safely, so I guess I can trust you, for now.”

“I understand,” Jaxith replied, his voice calm. “It’s totally understandable given the circumstances you were in.” Until now, he didn’t even look back at her, just focusing on his sword, Irene felt somehow awkward.

“So… is that blood on your sword,” Irene began, her curiosity piqued.

“Yes.” Jaxith simply replied.

“Whose is it?” Irene asked.

“Probably the demon that killed your friends,” Jaxith replied, his tone nonchalant. “if that was the only one he got, and I doubt that.”

Irene winced at the stark reminder of the tragedy, and Jaxith’s bold replies weren’t making it any simpler. She had shown much vulnerability last night with him, a weakness she was determined to conceal.

“Wait, wasn’t he the one that did that? There was no one there except him.” Irene asked, her confusion growing.

“No human could do this, at least a normal one,” Jaxith explained, “I thought at the beginning he is a spiritual knight or he has some sort of a tamed beast, but he wasn’t, he’s just a scarlet summoner, not even a dark caster as he didn’t use any spell against me.”

“I think that I heard those terms before, but I still don’t understand.” Irene admitted, her confusion evident.

Jaxith put the cloth that he was using to clean the sword aside and let his now cleaned shiny sword by the side of his coat on the sofa, he turned to Irene and pulled a wooden chair to sit beside her bed and face her.

“That’s not important right now,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. “You said you could trust me, didn’t you?” His red eyes held a certain intensity, a depth that made Irene uneasy.

“Y-yeah, I just need to get away from here,” Irene said, her voice barely a whisper. “I know someone who can help me. I need your help to get there. You can take whatever you need after that, you said you’re a monster hunter, consider it a reward. I don’t have anyone else now, so I’m putting my trust in you.”

Jaxith nodded, his expression reassuring. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you reach your destination safely.”

“And I’m sure Lance will reward you handsomely for your efforts after he knows what you did for me,” Irene added, though Jaxith seemed indifferent to the prospect of material gain.

“First, we need to deal with the assassin,” Jaxith said, his tone serious. “I have a plan, but I need you to provide me with the details of what happened. I know it’s painful, but it’s crucial to understand the situation, I need to know everything that happened between you and him before I entered the house, don't leave a tiny bit of detail.”

Irene nodded, her expression grim. “Avenging them is the least I can do,” she vowed.