Haru [https://shadowsprey.com/wp-content/uploads/story-images/01_19_Haru-S3.png]

ATARRABI BORDERLANDS

Haru’s mind was burning. His nerves had been coiled taut since he’d lost Kanna, and the idea of having to wait a moment longer before setting off on towards her angered him beyond reason.

He knew enough to keep his anger in check, and take himself away from Vahn and Osawa before he said or did something that he would later regret.

At the bank of the river, he sorted through the pack that Vahn had given him. The single ghostlight he had retrieved from the lantern in his cell remained with him, and it lit the contents of the bag. Inside were Haru’s own uniforms and sweats, his jacket neatly folded on the top of the pile. He pulled it out and shook it loose, finding it wasn’t the one he had been wearing the last year. It was an older one that Vahn had snuck out of his quarters, the longer jacket of the Second that he’d hung up when Kanna didn’t return from her last mission.

He refolded it, careful not to crease the adornments, his fingers lingering on the shadowed sun that had become Kanna’s emblem.

Turning away from the pack, Haru waded into the cold waters of the river until it was at his waist. He held his breath and ducked beneath the surface.

Below, the current pulled against his body, trying to drag him away.

He opened his mouth and screamed into the undertow, the air escaping his lungs, the water threatening to fill them.

When he couldn’t stay beneath any longer he rose to the surface, gasping for air. His breath came in jagged gasps, the sound disturbing the quiet of the night.

When it stilled and settled, he set to work. Haru brushed his skin clean and rubbed his nails through his hair to remove the caked dust and blood. He ignored the chill, gritting his teeth against the cold.

It was well into the night when Haru climbed out of the river. He pulled the rough blanket from the pack to dry off before slipping into the training sweats that had been packed. There was a cool breeze in the air, but the night against his skin was a comfort.

He shifted his weight and bent his knees, his hands rising slowly. He had been practicing his forms in the dark, but he still felt stiff from being locked away. The technique required concentration, but after so many times it was as if his body knew the movements before he did.

The light inside of him flowed as he shifted the power, bright against the edges of the night.

He felt the lingering tug, the leftover glimmer that anchored him to her.

The darkness was a reminder. It always called her forth. He had been in a prison since they’d met, the idea of her keeping him captive.

Haru had transferred to the Palamidia’s Tower in Tages after passing the initial trials in his ancillary school. The Palamidia was making advances into Atarrabi at the time, and he and Osawa had arrived while many of the officers fought on the front.

With nothing else to do, he and his fellow transfers set to sparring among themselves.

The rules of the Tower were brutal. It was the Prospects’ responsibilities to keep the blood in their bodies, and the overseers left behind rarely interfered.

It didn’t take long for Haru to stand out. He had been taught from childhood the methods of war, and he had been a natural even then. He was born built for combat, then honed and trained to move. He would watch his opponents, seeking out their weaknesses and exploiting them to his advantage.

There was nothing extraordinary about the match he had that day. He had long grown bored of the same opponents, and often took them out in mere moments just to have the fight finished. His peers would watch greedily, discussing his technique among themselves as they attempted to discover the weakness in him.

There wasn’t one. Not until she arrived.

He hadn’t noticed when the whispered conversations around the sparring amphitheatre silenced. When he finished his bout and turned back to the seats that surrounded the arena, no one was watching him.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Instead, everyone had turned, their eyes locked on the east entrance at the top of the stairs.

Two officers had arrived, fresh from the front, their uniforms darkened with soot and blood. One was tall, his white hair and violet eyes a stark contrast against bronze skin though Haru barely registered him.

The other stood a step ahead of him, the top of her head not even reaching the other officer’s shoulder, her gaze locked on Haru.

The waiting Prospects held their silence. No one knew who the officers were, but the sight of the blood spattered on the white canvas of their uniforms was arresting. Vahn was a Centuri then, the buttons at the collar and hips of his jacket loose. Over his shoulder he had looped the collar of another jacket around his finger.

Kanna inclined her head to Vahn, who leaned down to her. A whisper passed between them and he straightened and nodded, his knowing smirk fading to confusion before correcting itself to neutrality.

Kanna shoved her hands in her pockets, her shoulders somehow both back and slouched at the same time as she made her way down, one calculated step at a time, to the sparring arena.

Her eyes were the sky promising a storm.

The light gathered around her, curling like a halo around her body as she moved. The time it took to reach him was both eternal and an instant, and when she stood before him he was already done.

Haru couldn’t look away.

Before him, she tilted her head, the endless grey of her eyes studying him. She was so close he could see the scattered freckles over the bridge of her nose, the small scar bisecting her right eyebrow, the ring of black around her irises that pulsed with each breath she took.

She paced around him, the same smooth skulk from before. He stood still, unable to breathe, turning his head in an attempt to follow her.

After circling him she stopped, then looked over to Vahn. He had followed her to the edge of the sparring area, the toes of his boots grazing the mats. Vahn met her gaze and shrugged.

Haru felt a flare of resentment for the man that had taken her attention away from him, but it was short lived. Kanna turned back to Haru, flicking her eyes over him.

“What are you?” she asked.

The words hit him like a kick in the teeth, bringing him crashing back to reality. Before he could find an answer, the side door of the arena opened behind Kanna.

The Legatus’s guards entered first, fanning out and stepping to the side as Velinius appeared. From the corner of his eye Haru saw a shift in Vahn, as if he was bracing for an attack.

Haru knew he should have stepped back. He didn’t move.

“Ananke,” Velinius said. “I was waiting for your report.”

Kanna’s eyes slid to the side, her body belatedly following the movement as she turned. The line between her shoulders straightened, her spine grew rigid, but she didn’t remove her hands from her pockets.

“Veil,” she said, a false brightness in her tone that bordered on mockery. “I was on my way to see you.”

“You found interrupting the Prospects’ practice more important?” Velinius asked, her voice laced with reprimand and something else that Haru couldn’t place at the time. The tone was unfamiliar to Haru then, but he would learn of it.

Vahn stepped onto the mats, moving back to Kanna’s side. He slid the jacket from his shoulder and shook it out, holding it up. Kanna slipped her arms into the sleeves and shrugged it on.

Haru held his breath and his ground. The Second’s jacket reached past her knees, heavy with the embroidered weight of victories.

A shockwave moved through him with the realization. The Legatus’s Second was a legend, spoken about in hushed whispers across the Empire. She was the only loa of her kind, a deathless creature thrust upon the world. They said you could find her by her eyes, that she didn’t have a soul to color them.

Kanna pulled the hair out of her collar and let it fall down her back before shoving her hands back into her pockets. She glanced over her shoulder at Haru, her scarred brow quirked.

They were right about one thing. It was in her eyes.

“Maybe,” she said.

The legend slunk after Velinius, her steps hissing as she dragged her heels across the mats. Vahn followed, his long legs eating up the distance.

When she disappeared behind the guards, she took a part of Haru with her.

Haru opened his eyes, taking a shuddering breath and grounding himself.

To his back were the forests of Lugos, and ahead were the grasslands of Atarrabi.

She was somewhere beyond them, just out of reach. As always, she was wherever the light went when the shadows came to call.