The cold that evening was biting.

Vexation emanated from Tomoe like a dark cloud the whole way to the barracks, and try as her little spirit friend may to cheer her up, Tomoe’s smiles were half-hearted.

She couldn't see herself sitting on a throne, surrounded by advisers, making decisions that would affect all of the Vermilion Isles and sometimes beyond. She couldn't see herself meeting with envoys from far off lands to discuss policy. The thought of engaging in conversation so subtle that all of the most important words went unspoken filled her with a potent dread.

For as much as she loved reading about the feats of great people, she still felt so utterly lost at the thought of becoming one. That was why she found herself hopping over a fence, dodging from bush to crate to evade vigilant eyes as she made her way toward the barracks of the Burning Plume.

Knock-ity knock, knock knock knock… tap.

The young fennec rapped their secret knock against the frosted window, glancing to and fro. An incredulous Arata emerged just moments later.

“You couldn’t even wait ‘til morning?” The words came out of his mouth faster than he processed the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Sparkeel. Again. Can you believe it?” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “So, I’m hungry… you wanna go to the night market?”

“Oh, why not? I’ll be ready in a moment.”

The pair were walking down the hill towards Namitori proper in short order. Arata with his hands stuffed into his pockets, and Tomoe looking every which way in an attempt to seem as though she wasn’t dying to ask the burning question on her mind.

“Brr… it sure is extra cold tonight…” Arata bristled, giving a nod to the fire spirit cradled in Tomoe’s arms. “Hey, Phee, what’dya say you come give Arata a hug, huh?”

“Preee!” He trilled as he burrowed deeper into Tomoe’s arms.

“Psh. I’m the cold-blooded one here, y’know.”

After all of two peaceful minutes, she couldn’t contain it any longer. “So! How’d it go?”

“Hm? How’d what go?” Arata chuckled at just how unimpressed she looked. “Okay, so, get this — the convene is tomorrow. They’re gatherin’ to discuss something called the Summit of Leaders, and it's being held in Many Crossroads.”

Tomoe’s ears perked up. “Many Crossroads… as in the Many Crossroads?”

“Yep.”

“Capital of Sunthrone?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Heart of the Solar Orthodoxy?!”

“You got it! Tons of important people from all over have been invited. There’ll even be folk from Asmira and the Ursa Wastes. Apparently, though, Lord Fumito’s still undecided on if the Isles will join the talks.”

There was a sparkle in the girl’s eye as the possibilities raced. “Wow… the Summit of Leaders…!” She’d always heard that Many Crossroads was like a shining beacon, a huge and wondrous city that had hosted so many of her favourite heroes and tales. “Many Crossroads is where Jubei met the other heroes for the first time, and they had their audience with the Empyreans! And it’s where Kal’fjor haggled with the Nightmare Merchant, and… wait,” she looked over to Arata, the anticipation and excitement clear in her tone, “what is this Summit of Leaders actually about?”

“It’s about the elemental unrest,” Arata said. “Since the attack on Namitori… I suppose it can’t be ignored anymore.”

“Ah... that makes sense,” Tomoe trailed off, looking up at the starlit night sky, not a moon in sight.

Eventually, the two arrived at the night market. It was an entirely different atmosphere with the world cast in darkness, the streets lit by criss-crossing paper lanterns and the air filled with all manner of appetising smells, from familiar to exotic. The cobble street was overtaken by dozens of stalls and food carts, each serving some speciality dish. The fennec’s mouth watered.

“Fish balls?” Arata offered, tilting his head to look at her.

“Counter-offer — anything other than fish, and especially nothing long and slimy.”

“Oh, shame. I was about to suggest sparkeel soup.”

The pair chuckled, and then Tomoe noticed something. Just across the way, manning a stall, was…

“That lady from earlier!”

“Huh?” Arata blinked. “Who?”

Tomoe motioned toward the stall, manned by a familiar calico. “Your crush from the textile guild!” Her simple craftsman’s outfit was nowhere to be seen, and instead, she was donning overalls and a lopsided chef’s hat.

“T-Tomoe!” The drake’s face fell. “What is it with you and pointing at people today?!”

A wide, dastardly grin. “Heh… y’know, I think I’m hungry for whatever she’s cooking.”

“Oh, no, you—”

Before he could even try to stop her, she was skipping over to the cart with a grin, turning to wink at him as she plopped herself down on the nearest stool.

“Welcome to Haniya’s Fit for a King Fried Foods!” The woman’s words were almost automatic, not even glancing up at her customers as she flipped sizzling hot layers of egg and cabbage over with the ease and skill of a person who was a dab hand. “We’ve got a special on scratchings today!”

“Hi! We met earlier at the textile guild!” Tomoe beamed, nodding to Arata, who followed a few hesitant paces behind. “My friend picked up a tunic from you!”

“Oh, apologies! Y’know, I see a lotta faces every day, an’ all.” There was, without a doubt, a total lack of recognition in the woman’s brilliant blue-green eyes.

“That’s completely understandable, miss,” Arata’s words hung, “ah… sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Name’s Nekoko, sir. Nekoko Nekomiya!”

“Right. Nekoko. I’m Ara—“

“So, what can I get for you both today? Scratchings are on deep discount, and it ain’t because they’re rotten, I tell ya! Don’t listen to what that ol’ bag Maiya has to say, she’s just crabby she's still a few years away from an elder’s discount!”

A few moments later — and after some considerable indecision on Tomoe’s part despite the limited menu — Nekoko was preparing their food. Warmth, good smells, and the low hubbub of nighttime chatter kept the cold night air at bay. Nightbirds signaled to each other from somewhere above the din, heralding the fast-approaching midnight. Tomoe let out a deep breath, allowing her head to rock backward. She gazed up at the sky, a grey-dark sea, and thought not for the first time about just how large it must be.

“Y’know, the other day, I learned the name of one of the maids at the palace?”

“The riveting, non-stop action of Tomoe Suzaku’s daily life.”

“You didn’t let me finish! Her name was Lisette.”

“Unusual for someone working at the palace,” Arata mumbled. “I think that’s an Asmiran name.”

“Yeah! And it made me wonder about how many places she’s been… how many things she saw on the way here.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Well, there’s a chance her parents settled on the Isles and just gave their kid an Asmiran name, right?” Arata said, licking the side of his mouth as their plates were loaded up.

A powerful gust of cold wind rushed through the marketplace, the tarpaulins rattling and the signage squeaking in its wake. There were some yelps of surprise and a general din of discontent, but the hubbub settled down before long.

“Okay, maybe, but even so, that just makes me wonder about the parents’ journey!” Tomoe said, motioning her hands wide for emphasis. “Point being, it got me thinking about all the places beyond the Vermilion Isles— even just beyond Namitori! And now, I’ve been thinking about the Summit of Leaders, and Sunthrone, and everything…!” Her words trailed off with a deep, wistful sigh. “I feel like I’ve spent my entire life cooped up in this city.”

“You... have.”

“Order’s up!”

At the mention of food, Tomoe snapped back to her surroundings and reached for her pockets. The sola she pushed into Nekoko’s hands was enough to cover both meals and then some.

“Thank you kindly, miss!” Beamed the calico, giving a short bow before leaving the pair to their own business, busying herself with cleaning.

“You didn’t have to pay for me,” The drake said, but he only found her hand being theatrically lifted to stop him from going any further.

“I'm sure it’s the least I can do,” she shrugged, lathering her food in sauce before skewering it and taking a huge bite. “There’s so much to see out there, Arata! So many people to meet! Things to do…! And all I get to do is read about it. I wanna see the world, y’know? This stuff’s delicious,” she admitted through a full mouth, “but I want to taste new things!”

Suddenly, a yelp of pain echoed out above the low din. The pair turned to follow the sound, surveying the crowds behind them, but saw little from their position deep within the maze of stalls except other turned heads.

“What was that?” Tomoe asked, ears alert.

“Someone probably singed their fur. Those trays get hot.” He waved, turning back to his food.

“Yeah... anyway, I want to fill the shoes of my great, great, great… however many grandfathers Jubei is to me! How am I meant to do that if I’m stuck in decorum lessons?!”

Arata looked pensive as he chewed. ”As your honour guard, I’m more or less required by the job description to tell you that you should listen to your elders, do as they say, and so on, but as your friend? As your friend, it seems like you know what you want. You just need to figure out how to... y'know... grasp it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how do I put it? Jubei… from everything I’ve heard about him, he didn’t exactly follow the ru—“

CRASH!

A distraught scream rang out through the cold night, followed by the sounds of scuffling, clanging metal, and the blooming panic that spread through the market’s crowd like a virulent infection. Another gust of cold wind, stronger and more biting followed the commotion. Arata jumped out of his seat, hand on the sheathe at his side.

“That’s not just singed fur!” Tomoe gulped, shivering. Even Phee’s warmth wasn’t doing much to stave off the cold anymore. “What’s going on…?”

“Help! Help!”

“By the Phoenix! E-Elementals! Elementals!”

As the crowd began to scream and scrabble for safety, the source of the commotion became clear. At the far end of the market, the city guard was valiantly attempting to rebuff a sprawling wave of beings that could only be described as living manifestations of wintry demise, their dirty-white forms misshapen and haphazard with little function but to bring about the destruction of animalkind. Only just visible through the sleet that spun around their bodies was a peculiar, jagged crystal that shone the same hue as a dull winter sky.

“Stay near, Tomoe!” Arata yelled, his blade’s edge gleaming viciously as it was drawn from its sheathe. That blade was forged with a single purpose — to protect the sole heir.

“Shouldn’t we help?!” She gasped, watching as the guards valiantly attempted to fight back, the market’s patrons using the time they bought to flee.

“… No.” The drake’s voice was severe and tinged with regret. It pained him to stand back and watch. “My job is to keep you safe. Your job is to help me keep you safe.”

“But…!” She gazed on in vain as the guards struggled to rebuff the elementals, each stroke of a blade passing through their bodies harmlessly and doing little to slow them down. Shields seemed to be more effective, holding them back like a wall, but even then, they oozed over and around slowly but surely.

Arata steadied himself, planting his feet firmly into the ground. “More of them!” He shouted, pointing with a scaled claw as another frigid whirlwind began to coalesce, battering the stalls and sending sizzling trays of fresh food flying in all directions. It was as though the whipping of the wind was sculpting the snow, giving life to the elemental beings that grew larger with each passing second. Arata fearlessly stepped forward and engaged them, positioning himself between Tomoe and the new aggressors.

The situation was frantic. Much of the market had cleared, but the guardsmen were slowly being overwhelmed, and a scattering of merchants were still present trying to salvage what they could of their livelihoods. Some patrons, too terrified to run, had resorted to taking cover behind or underneath whatever cart or barrel they could find.

“I can’t let the equipment get damaged!” Nekoko mewled in panic, desperately trying — and failing — to stop her cart and everything on it from going flying. “The repairs’ll come out of my pocket!”

“M-Miss Nekoko!” Tomoe called to no avail — Arata’s efforts were focused squarely on repelling the foes that threatened his charge. A pair of the newly emerged elementals had peeled off to the side, their sights trained upon the innocent and defenseless calico. Their forms shifting into a hurried frenzy of slush and slurry across the ground, they moved at a frightening pace.

A breathless moment. The fennec looked around, her heart pounding in her chest. Arata was already fighting to fend off abominations. The city guard was likewise engaged in stemming the initial tide, and too far away, to boot. Amid the chaos, it seemed nobody but Tomoe had noticed Nekoko’s impending doom.

Fire rushed through her veins as she clenched her teeth. Perhaps it was that same fire that burned away the indecision and left her mind clear as she sprung into action.

She had to do something. Anything!

“Watch out!”

No good. Her voice, shrill as it could be when she tried, was drowned out by the sheer havoc that had bloomed throughout the market. It was as though time had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity, and even still, there was no time to think — as quickly as her legs would take her, she dove forward, crashing into the calico from the side just in time to knock her out of the way as the elementals slammed into the cart in tandem, splatting upon it like tomatoes upon a wall.

“U-Ugyaah!” Nekoko shrieked, safe from imminent harm… but it was far from over. Tomoe watched from on top of the cat as the market stall froze over under the influence of the elementals, creeping frost covering the wood and whatever utensils remained even as the beings reshaped into the closest thing they had to a consistent form.

“Preeeeee!” Came the trills of the fire spirit, zipping around the elementals to catch up to his friend, and as he did, Tomoe noticed something — the snow that formed the unsightly bodies of their foes began to melt, dripping onto the floor. With a gasp, she pawed at her waist, sighing with relief when she felt the wrapped pommel of the blade she wasn’t supposed to have.

“Phee!” She started, breathless, springing to her feet and drawing her weapon in one fluid motion, “Snowman Slayer!”

That was all she needed to say. With the closest thing he could give to a nod, Phee smashed into the blade without hesitation, his body dispersing into a mighty vortex that spun around and suffused the blade, igniting it with a roar that lit up the night. “Awesome!” Tomoe grinned, but the mirth was short-lived — this was no time for jubilation!

Nearby, Arata cleaved one of the creatures in twain, spraying its remnants across the floor temporarily. “Tomoe, what in The Sun’s name are you doing?!” He shouted, parrying a blow. It was becoming difficult to even tell them apart, or keep count of how many there were. “You need to stay with me! Or hide! And when did you learn magic?! But more importantly, run away!”

“It isn’t magic!” Was the young heir’s reply, much to Arata’s annoyance — she had a way of avoiding the point. “If we melt away the snow…!” In an act of demonstration, she swung her blade in a wide flame-wreathed arc. Swathes of her opponents’ forms melted away in an instant, the one closest to the young fox bearing the brunt of the attack.

When the curtain of heat faded away, she saw it; previously hidden and shielded behind the snow and detritus, the creature’s frozen core. But these were embodiments of nature itself, and they felt no pain. They simply were or were not, spontaneous in being. Their advance was not halted.

Tomoe gritted her teeth, feeling the sweat on her brow.

She felt the urge to rain down blows in a wild flurry of attacks, but Espen’s words rang clear in her mind.

‘Pace yourself, and strike with precision!’

So instead, she weaved her way underneath her next target, looking for just the right moment to strike—

“And if their core is exposed…!”

THWOOM!

Her blade, a harmonious union of metal and flame, decimated the frozen heart before it!

“We turn them back into slush!”

It shattered into a hundred pieces under the unbearable force of her attack, nothing but a flash of light left in its wake.

Tomoe panted heavily, her heart pounding, all sound but the roaring of Phee’s flames and the beating drum in her chest drowned out.

“Watch out, miss!”

But Nekoko’s warning came too late.

The other elemental loomed over Tomoe, ready to crash down - she gasped, raising her weapon to protect herself, but the moment never came.

A blooming torch, followed sharply by Arata’s weapon. Tomoe blinked away droplets of water, all that was left of the creature.

“Arata!” Tomoe gasped. “I owe you one.”

“That’s dinner repaid, then,” he replied with a grin, offering his hand to a cowering Nekoko and pulling her up from the ground.

It wasn’t long until backup arrived, and the remnants of the elementals were cleaned up. With the focus shifted away from the protection of the townsfolk, the guards were able to actively employ fire just as Tomoe and Arata had, and the elemental threat was quashed with minimal casualties. Tomoe, of course, was immediately whisked away to the palace under the protection of over a dozen members of the Burning Plume.

Her body burned with fire and thrill on the journey back up the hill. The first thing to bring her crashing back to reality was the look on Asahi’s face as he came out onto the palace approach to greet her.

[https://i.imgur.com/j6ZLfDr.png]

That night, a tangible sense of unease hung over Namitori. A stark and daunting truth had been revealed — elementals could manifest within the walls of the city at any time. Nobody was safe, from the townsfolk to the sole heir herself, and the city’s much-lauded defenses that had rebuffed many an attack meant little in the face of the elemental threat.

The next morning, a new day would dawn over the ancient city, its pride forever harmed.