“It’s sharp enough to cut through obsidian.”

Sara stared at the sword placed flat on the table. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, the blade a smooth curve from start to finish, every inch enclosed in shadow that made the steel look like onyx.

It reminded her of the black platinum cube she found in Yuzuru’s room, the thing which caused everything.

Tracing the weapon to its owner, she asked, “Have we met before?”

Behind the blade, the masked girl was the embodiment of a kitsune statue outside a torii gate. There were no eye holes in the mask, so Sara couldn’t even tell where the girl was looking.

“If I could answer that,” the girl answered, “I would not have to wear this mask.”

In the kitchen, Taiga was breaking apart dried corn stalks to put under the stone stove, then lighting them with fire that came out of her hand. She called over and asked what tea they wanted. “We have lemon or nihilism.”

Sara couldn’t help but ask, “What is the second one supposed to be?”

“Water, with the idea of tea.”

That made the masked girl laugh. It was a surprisingly pretty sound, full of a girly lightness that made her seem more approachable. “I’ll have a cup of the lemon,” she said to Taiga. “With one sugar, if you have any.”

“Me too,” Sara said.

Taiga set the pot on the stove and came back to the table while it boiled.

“I didn’t know you could use magic as well,” Sara said.

Taiga shrugged, pulling out the seat beside Sara so they were both facing the masked girl. Sara liked that. It showed they were on the same team.

“There are few in Arcadia who command the use of the elements,” Taiga explained. She clicked her fingers and a spark of fire leaped between them. “And fewer still who can command multiple. It’s nothing compared to what you travelers are capable of.”

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew all too well what Taiga meant. All that destruction and death, so easily committed.

Her movement caused her bag to knock against her chair, and Jack made a muffled sound.

The masked girl leaned forward. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” Sara shifted again so her bag was directly behind her.

The masked girl stretched out a hand. “Show me.”

“No. It’s… personal.”

The kitchen whistled. Taiga shot up and raced to the pot, coming back with three porcelain cups. She pressed one directly into the masked girl’s hand, forcing her to put it down.

The room was getting stuffy. Sara rubbed her eyes. The murky lighting wasn’t helping. It made her feel trapped, like there were people outside, waiting to crash through the flimsy house and drag her away to some other fortress or slave camp.

If anyone tries it again, I’ll burn them all to hell.

With her eyes still closed, Sara heard the sounds of liquid being poured, then the faint scent of citrus wafted under her nose.

She looked down to see a cup sliding towards her.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” Taiga whispered while she was close. “But your brother is a good man. He saved my life.”

Sara nodded. She held the cup in both hands and sipped. It was warming. Not too sweet.

Across the table, the masked girl didn’t touch her cup. Instead, her hands rested on her wakizashi, pink nails contrasting with black steel.

“It must’ve been hard for you,” she said softly, “to get to where you are right now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sara immediately said. She tried not to stare at the blade, or its bigger, longer cousin still strapped to the other girl’s waist.

“You don’t? Or are you simply too scared to take the last step?”

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That struck something inside Sara. She clutched her hands together to stop them from shaking, but whether it was rage or grief she was feeling, she didn’t know.

Taiga came to the rescue. “I want to make sure I understand this correctly, Lady Right Hand, but are you a traveler also? You’ve never made this fact known to anyone.”

“That is because I am not a traveler,” the masked girl answered. “I am something different, that which does not exist in any other form but mine.”

The walls were closing in. Sara had no idea what time it was because there were no windows and it was driving her mad. She felt it again - that tittering sickness as the room started to spin. She wrapped her arms around her belly and prayed it would go away.

“Lady Right Hand,” said Taiga, glancing in Sara’s direction. “I’m afraid we need to cut this meeting short. Sara doesn’t look well.”

The masked girl reached up and unhooked the bottom half of her mask, revealing thin lips and pale cheeks. She drank all of her sugared lemon tea in one go, and then stood up, taking her sword with her. “I have one more question,” she said, setting the empty cup face down on the table. “Are you worthy?”

Sara’s eyes snapped open. She stared into the fox mask, her breathing coming in short bursts.

“How… what?”

The girl said nothing. Her lips were pressed into a line, which she covered up by reattaching her mask. She sheathed her wakizashi and gave Taiga a polite bow, thanking her for the tea.

“My Lady,” Taiga spoke up. “The man on the street…”

“Is not dead yet,” the masked girl responded, before swishing away with a turn of her flowing robes.

When the masked girl was gone, Sara mumbled some excuse, and then stumbled from the table. She found the bathroom, threw herself in and hurled her guts out.

Once the ordeal was over, she slid down the wall and rested her head on the toilet seat with her legs tucked beneath her, pressing the cool porcelain to her temple.

The house might’ve been rundown, but the bathroom was pretty well furnished.

Sara felt a slight vibration behind her. Reaching back, she pulled Jack out of her bag.

“Is she gone?” he asked.

“Why did that girl bother you so much?” Sara asked, her voice echoing weakly between the bare white walls. She shook Jack when he didn't answer.

“Knowledge is like fire,” said Jack. “Be wary of how much you can hold.”

There was a knock.

“Are you alright?” Taiga asked from behind the door. “That sounded horrendous.”

“I’ll be out in a second,” Sara said, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers. “Just looking at the potted plants.”

“I didn’t see any plants.”

“Maybe I’ll get you one. Do you like ferns?”

Taiga chuckled nervously. “Listen, I think you might be coming down with something. You looked all clammy and sweaty at the table.”

“Well… I haven’t exactly had the time to put on makeup.”

“No,” Taiga laughed. “I mean I’ll pick up a health potion for you. Just wait for me here, alright?”

Sara nodded. By the time she realized Taiga couldn’t see her, the front door had already closed.

Devoid of any other life, the house took on a powerful silence. It rang in Sara’s ears as she tripped her way back through the hallway. It felt like someone was skipping rocks all over the surface of her brain.

“Tick-tock,” said Jack by her side. “Time to tip back over.”

“Why don’t you shut it,” said Sara. “You were doing so well at that before.” She held on to the walls, inching her way towards the front door. Her body was shutting down. She was dying, or just felt like it. Passing the dining room, she hit her knee against a chair. She could barely feel the pain. Everything was numb and spinning. She needed to go faster. Maybe she could still catch Taiga.

And do what? Kill the girl to gain a point in Chaos Control? And then what?

“I need to teleport,” she whispered to the pounding silence of the house. “Maybe if I combine evaporate and Electric Touch… Or Light Fall, or…”

“Kill someone,” said Jack. “You already know this works.”

Sara’s legs gave out as she lurched for the door. She caught the handle and tried to turn it. Black vines were crawling across her vision. Moisture was trickling from her nose, tasting metallic when it got to her mouth.

The door swung open and Sara fell into the prickly alleyway. Light spilled into her half-blinded eyes as a cold autumn wind fluttered against her burning face.

She raised a fist and struck it down.

“I hate this world," she mumbled, "for turning me into a murderer.”

Jack’s laughter sounded far away. “This world has nothing to do with your decision, kid. Don’t blame Arcadia for letting you be who you really are.”

Sara said nothing because she was struggling to breathe. She lifted her head to look at Jack. He had fallen out of her hands and was now staring back at her with his empty sockets.

She struggled onto her back. The sky was a pretty orange, the color of the marmalade she spread on her toast in the mornings. Sara closed her eyes and imagined biting down on a slice now, how delicious it would taste.

Footsteps came closer, the clip-clop of wooden sandals. Familiar. It made Sara think of home, but she didn’t know why.

Then, Jack let out a strained gasp. “I thought you left.”

The answering shadow loomed over Sara’s face.

“I did, but then I remembered how my crater was destroyed, the body of my driver was found without his head, and the one responsible for the whole thing was dying in front of my eyes.”

There was a pause, in which Sara cracked open an eye. Leaning above her, the fox mask gave no hints as to what expression was hiding under it.

“Did you see her, Jack? Or did she do it on her own?”

“Me, help?” said Jack. “Why, that is simply absurd.” He started to laugh but choked on it when the masked girl picked him up.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Turning him around in her delicate hands, the masked girl pivoted him the right way up so he was looking at her. “That a centuries-old man would jeopardize the entire plan just to save one girl’s life.”

Jack was so still he could’ve just been another skull. When he spoke again, his jaw barely moved.

“I’ve had enough of this, Kitsune. None of us are ever leaving this place. It’s time we accept it and try and put an end to this nonsense we-”

“Ah-ah.” The masked girl pressed a finger lightly to Jack’s front teeth. “That’s quite enough from you, mister.” She stepped over Sara and started down towards the end of the alleyway. “If you’ve got something to say, you’ll just have to wait until we get home.”

“Wait,” Jack mumbled against her finger. “Aren’t you going to help her?”

The masked girl looked back, then shook her head and carried on. “There’s no need. I knew Sara since she was little. She hasn’t shown us anything yet.”