He could still taste the blood in his mouth. The nearby fire from the stone hearth did little to warm him. The blanket the Empress had draped over his shoulders provided little comfort. The guilt and shame ate away inside him. He did not remember much. Only flashes. Terrified faces. Arkovian guardsman and Crimsonarion centurion alike. Bolts of lightning flashing everywhere, out of control. Awakening in a pool of blood that was not his own. Shino Sonoda’s face. Oh God, her face…

For her to see what he had done to her father. No, not me. It… It did all of this.

Something happened to him back in that cave. Something that wasn’t meant to happen. He was sick. Infected with something not of this world. A parasite filled with hatred.

Hideo wondered what kind of execution awaited him. Hanging. Exile, where he would freeze in the Arkovian snows. Perhaps he would be fed to Xerxes’ new Hell pig. He deserved it all. Despite him not being in control, it did not change the fact that he was still the one who did the deeds. He ripped through The Khan’s guards like they were made of bread. He was responsible for Amaya’s permanent disfigurement. He killed the Khan in front of his daughter. It was not the Night Fang way. No mark deserved to be slain in front of their family.

As he was carried up the stairs into the Empress’ temple, the samurai backed away from him as if he were a loose firework. Goro never spoke directly to him as he tended to the assassin’s wounds, choosing only to verbally correspond with Xerxes, the only other survivor from that throne room with the ability to speak. Amaya had been laid down on a table next to him, her face completely wrapped in bandages. She had passed out shortly after they had left Star Snow. Goro had stitched Hideo’s wounds with shaky fingers as if he was trying to dismantle a pendulum before it swung and lopped off his own head. He’s afraid of me… They all are.

The chamber doors hissed as they dragged against the cold floor tiles. The Empress emerged in her black and azure kimono. The mountain winds from outside seemed to follow her through the temple as her blue hair wavered and fluttered about her shoulders. The sapphire circlet glimmered across her forehead. She carried a plate in her pale hands. Despite all that he had done, she had a warm and welcoming smile on her face.

She took a seat opposite the table from him and delicately placed the meal in front of him. It was the most exquisite meal Hideo had seen since arriving in Arkovia. The food was exotic and colourful. Roasted carrots, potatoes boiled to perfection, glistening eggs from an unknown bird or raptor, and the pinnacle of the dish sat in the centre. A roasted Dodo already carved and served with spices. He felt his mouth water. The smells almost made him forget of the pain he had caused at Star Snow, which ultimately made him feel more ashamed. He did not deserve to forget the bloodbath he had left. He should never forget it.

“Go ahead,” the Empress implored with a strange bonhomie. “You must be starving, Do not wait for my permission.”

Hideo gave in to his hunger and gorged himself. He felt the grease from the Dodo meat roll down his chin. The spices twinkled and danced on his tongue. The melted butter in the potatoes replenished him. The Empress sat there silently with an approving countenance. He was too busy satisfying his hunger to speak to her. She seemed to understand. She was observing him in fascination, as if he were a rare creature that she had caught sight of in the wilderness.

Hideo was finally able to tear himself away from his feast to speak. “How is Amaya?” he asked sombrely. Just saying her name sent a fresh wave of guilt through his body. His chest burned from the food or as an after-effect of his brief transformation, he could not say.

“Goro is tending to her,” she said, sounding far too lively and pleased, given the circumstances. “She will live long. Unfortunately, so will her facial wounds.”

“She will never forgive me for this,” Hideo said in agonising remorse.

The Empress scoffed. “The tiger does not care for the grievances of a cat.”

“And Shino?” At the Khan’s citadel, they knew that when the centurions and Khan’s reinforcements saw the chaos in the throne room, they would blame each other, and Star Snow would erupt in war. With Hideo being responsible for her father’s death, and Amaya’s torn face frightening the poor girl, it fell onto Xerxes, the most bitter and angry of the three, to calm the girl and convince her that they would escort her to safety.

“I’ve relocated her somewhere safe,” the Empress reassured. “When the tide calms, I shall have her returned to ascend the throne. I’d say preserving her safety during this turbulent time compensates for your damage.”

“Hardly.” Hideo did not care how foolish he looked. He started licking the plate clean the way a cat does with a bowl of milk. “If this is to be my last meal, then I may as well enjoy it.”

The Empress’ pale face gleamed as she burst out into laughter. “Why would this meal be your last?”

Hideo glanced at her incredulously. “Surely, after what I’ve done?”

“What you’ve done,” she cut in sharply as she grasped his bruised arm, “has reignited my faith in the Fraternity.”

She beckoned him with a pale finger to follow her. He silently obeyed. The tunnels of the underground spirals had a chill that bit harder than usual as the spirits knew of his misdeeds. It wasn’t until they had descended halfway down the mountain that he gained enough courage to make his demand. “I want to see her first.”

She stopped in her tracks, and Hideo could sense an aroma of anger around her. The chill bit harder against his skin as he waited painfully for her response. Yet, when she turned to face him, she still had the pale grin. She playfully rolled her eyes. “Very well. Who am I to make demands of a Titan?”

The chamber they had kept her in felt not dissimilar to the dungeon she had previously occupied. Cold, dank, and windowless. At least the Empress had the decency to grant her a flaming hearth and a padded bed. Amaya’s head protruded from the covers. Her hair was unkempt, tangled, and twisted. That was all that could be seen of her. All of the Archer’s face was wrapped in bandages, dark stains seeping through the fabric in red blotches.

Hideo was nonplussed to see Xerxes sitting beside her. His face still bared the bruises that the Crimsonarions had left. Hideo expected to receive the usual snarl and derisive remark. It stunned him dramatically when the Thane stood and shook his hand with reverence. Xerxes’ hard emerald eyes softened as he nodded modestly. “It was an honour to fight with you, Hideo.”

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Not Craven Brother? Something felt wrong. Xerxes and the Empress’ behaviour was incongruous at best. They were being… Pleasant?

The bundle of bloody wraps turned to the side. “Is your favourite little warrior here, Your Sapphire Highness?” Amaya’s voice was muffled, and more venomous than her usual melodious tones. “I’m afraid I can’t see. Not sure what could have caused that.”

“He insisted on visiting you first,” the Empress said with icy affection.

Hideo stepped forth and knelt by Amaya’s bedside. He took her hands. The scars made them feel coarse, but so were his. “Amaya, I’m so sorry for what happened back at the Citadel,” he pleaded. The remorse hurt more than any wound he had recently taken. “I wasn’t in control of myself. I don’t remember what I did until I woke up in the blo-” He had to stop himself from finishing. The memory was making his hands tremble.

She started laughing from behind the bloody facial wraps. It soon delved into coughing. “Since you’re here, we might as well have the grand unveiling.”

“Amaya,” Xerxes interjected, “perhaps you should do that in private. Goro recommended more days.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I want Hideo to be the one to do it. While you permit me your champion’s presence.”

Hideo felt his heart rattle inside his ribs. Sweat seeped from the tip of his forehead. “Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly.

“You did this to me.” She said the words with a sudden coldness that made Hideo shake. “You should be the first to see your masterpiece.”

No one moved nor said anything for a painfully long moment. Hideo looked to Xerxes who merely shrugged. He turned to the Empress who gave a nod of approval. He felt afraid. Amaya might have wanted to look, but he didn’t. The dagger of guilt was twisting inside him enough as it was. “Amaya, I don’t think I-”

“DO IT!”

The chamber fell silent.

Hideo tentatively reached out for the wraps and began to unravel them. As he did, Amaya shimmied over and sat at the side of the bed. He could hear her pained breathing as each wrap departed. The more he unravelled, the more his heart sank. There were deep crimson stripes that stretched from the ends of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From the corner of her forehead, the bottom of her chin. Despite them being from a raptor’s claw, the scars closer resembled the deep cuts done by a large wildcat, dark and diagonal. However, what made Hideo feel most awful were the tearful eyes. She didn’t need a mirror to know how bad it was. She only needed to see Hideo and Xerxes’ faces. “Don’t I look pretty?” The words were sarcastic, but her voice was breaking, her eyes streaming.

Hideo could feel tears clouding his own eyes. Her scarred face became blurry through his vision. “I am so sorry, Amaya.”

“Will your apologies fix my face?”

The remark stung like raptor venom.

“Arrowcat,” Xerxes said from behind.

Amaya and Hideo turned to him in unison. The Thane leaned forward in his chair with an encouraging smile. “Your clan name,” he said proudly. “You are silent and swift. You slash your bow around like it is a claw attached to you. Not to mention you look like you’ve been savaged by some great lumbering wildcat.”

The faintest semblance of a smirk lifted around the ends of Amaya’s cut lips. It swiftly faded when her eyes met Hideo’s again. “Anything else I can help you with?” she asked sharply. “Perhaps you wish to slash my arms and legs into pieces this time?”

*

“Forget about her,” the Empress said dismissively as they walked through the stone hallways. “Her bitterness will fade.”

Her words did little to comfort Hideo. The silver Night Fang statues sat atop their plinths and watched the two of them as they passed. The sapphire gems that each silver tiger had for eyes followed him as he passed. Was the beast within me their true nature? The thought troubled him. What he became in Star Snow was no guardian. No protector. It was a vengeful monster.

“You grew up in New Jade, correct?” The Empress asked.

“Yes, Your Sapphire Highness.” Hideo could not help his words from sounding so glum. “My sister had raised me during the early years, after she abandoned Darkfall.”

Her mild chuckle echoed from down the winding halls they walked. “Did you know that I knew your King?”

“No, Your Sapphire Highness.” It was true. The casual comment took Hideo aback. Few outside Arkovia were meant to know of the Night Fang’s existence. When Hiroko told him stories of their tales when he was a child, he would remain awake all night fearful that the assassins would come for her to cut away her loose lips.

She raised her hand, and they halted beside a steel gate. She retrieved a silver key from her drooping sleeve and inserted it into the large iron padlock. “He even came to our aid many moons ago,” she continued to reminisce. “A rogue clan of those pesky Stone Ronin had learned of our location and made a pitiful attempt to siege this sacred temple. Your noble King arrived in person with a small battalion. Unfortunately, he had the men he travelled with executed afterward to maintain our secrecy.”

“Some reward they got for their heroism,” Hideo commented bitterly.

The Empress shrugged. “Many soldiers are given bitter fruits for their heroism. Although often their deeds aren’t as heroic as one might think.” The chains clanged as they unravelled around the gate. Steel growled as it dragged asunder. “He didn’t assist us out of the kindness of his heart. He did it to own our service.”

There it was. The Lightning Moon armour. Spirals of zaffre lightning gleamed across the black arm and leg wraps. The silver snarling horned tiger shimmered at the centre of the black and sapphire breastplate. The mask was half black, half sapphire. Hideo felt the darkness behind the visor watching him. The Empress glided towards the magnificent suit and gently stroked the crystallised sapphire side of the breastplate. “It looks to be just your size.”

Hideo could not comprehend where all the reverence was coming from. He made a coup turn into chaos, ripped his mark into shreds rather than subtly ending him in the shadows, and permanently disfigured one of his fellow fangs. He should be in Hell Pig shit, not being gifted one of the greatest suits of armour in Arkovia. “Your Sapphire Highness,” he said in disbelief, “I don’t understand…”

Her pale hands caressed the silver tiger sigil lovingly, as if the armour were a caged animal she was attempting to sooth. "What you displayed back at Star Snow was more powerful than all of my fangs combined."

"I was a monster-"

"You were Fangfire!" Her voice was wind hissing through broken ice. Her eyes turned to blue flame. Her pale face faded whiter, and her kindly smirk was long obliterated. "A Night Fang possessed you. A true Night Fang. The tiger resides within you, and I shall ensure that we put him to good use. My tiger. My titan."

She glided towards him and grasped his arms. "They're coming for Sigismund."

Hideo wasn’t certain if he would leave the chamber with the armour or without his head. He had never seen her so passionate. "Who are?" he asked with a slight tremble,

"The Inferno," she said gravely. "If they have the sense to torture your King before executing him, he'll reveal our location, and your city will be left in chaos." Without warning she spun him around and pushed him into the armour. A clang echoed through the chamber. “Protect the Royals,” she said. “Protect them by any means necessary or only the spirits can save your city, Hideo Horio.”

She wasn’t ordering. She was pleading.

“How many fangs will be riding with me?” he asked.

“None,” she said resolutely. “You’re a big boy now, and true Night Fangs hunt alone.”

“Not even Xerxes?”

“Why send a Thane when I can send you?” She pushed him into the armour again and wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her cold hands pulling up his jacket from behind, she tugged down on his breaches.

“What are you doing?” he asked

“Copulating with a god.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Before he knew it their shooting stars were crossing in the night. The Lightning Moon armour rattled above them as they rocked back and forth. Her skin no longer felt deathly cold like it always had done. It was warm, like the rays from a soothing fireplace in winter. She never sweated, which would have perplexed Hideo if he wasn’t so distracted being consumed by her.

“Why me?” he asked when their breathing simmered, and their fire had calmed. “I’m just a novice, a New Jade peasant.”

“Because you are no longer Hideo, an assassin, or a Night Fang,” she panted in the dark.

Their breathing quelled in the tenebrous chamber. The pulsating glimmers from the Lightning Moon armour illuminated the Empress’ somewhat loving and somewhat sinister gaze. “Amaya was gifted a clan name. So too shall you have yours; Return to your beloved New Jade and deliver my justice, Titan Tiger.”