WEEKS bled into one another as Mika diligently rebuilt her strength. Gone was the frail woman who had stumbled into the White Wolf compound; in her place, a flicker of the warrior she once began to return. Yet, a dull ache remained, a constant reminder of her lost memories and the reason for her presence in this opulent manor.
Lord Shinji Karou, who had saved her life, remained an enigma. Despite his undeniable handsomeness and the quiet authority that clung to him like a second skin, his motives for taking her in were shrouded in secrecy. Mika often caught him stealing glances at her, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his violet eyes. But a diplomatic smile would appear whenever she tried to broach the subject, and he’d be whisked away to another seemingly endless clan meeting.
His days were a whirlwind of activity. Dawn found him leaving with a team of stoic guards, his face etched with the weight of leadership. He wouldn’t return until well past nightfall, the lines around his eyes etched deeper with fatigue. Their interactions were confined to stolen moments during brief breaks and the quiet hours before sleep.
One such night, as the embers in the fireplace cast flickering shadows on the walls, Shinji surprised her by initiating a conversation beyond the usual pleasantries. He spoke of the White Wolf Clan’s history, his voice dropping to a low, almost reverent hum as he recounted their legacy. Then, with a seriousness that sent shivers down her spine, he spoke of the Chosen Apprentice.
“A bond forged in power and trust,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. “A connection that transcends life itself.”
Mika frowned, scepticism lacing her features. This talk of destiny felt like something from an ancient legend, a far cry from the harsh realities she’d known. “Destined?” she echoed, the word tasting foreign on her tongue. “How can someone be destined for anything?”
Shinji turned to face her then, his violet eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath. The amusement that often danced in their depths was replaced by an emotion she couldn’t decipher.
“Have you ever heard of Chosen Apprentices, Mika?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Mika shook her head, her brow furrowed in curiosity. “Not a word. What are they?”
“Imagine the most skilled Master of any background that you can think of. Now, picture them with a single student, handpicked not through training or lineage, but by a strange, powerful instinct. That’s the essence of a Chosen Apprentice.”
Mika’s brow furrowed. This all sounded too fantastical, like something out of an old legend. “A gut feeling? What if the Master’s intuition is wrong? Could they choose someone unfit, jeopardising themselves and the legacy they’re supposed to protect?”
Shinji chuckled. “That’s a question some whisper about. But the Chosen Apprentice becomes the Master’s shadow, their confidante, and their fiercest protector. They receive unparalleled training, groomed to one day inherit the Master’s skills.”
A thoughtful crease appeared on Mika’s forehead. “But what about trust? How strong is the bond if it’s one-sided? Can a Chosen Apprentice be utterly devoted to a Master who doesn’t reciprocate?”
“That’s the crux of it, Mika,” Shinji said, his voice returning seriously. “The bond between a Master and their Chosen Apprentice is said to be unbreakable. The stronger the trust, the more formidable they become, a force to be reckoned with.”
Mika shivered, a thrill coursing through her. “What if things go wrong?”
Shinji’s smile vanished, replaced by a sombre expression. “There have been tragic occurrences in the past whereby a Master was forced by unimaginable circumstances, to strike down their own Chosen Apprentice. Or conversely, the Chosen Apprentice had to sacrifice themselves to save their Master.”
“Oh my,” Mika breathed, her heart pounding. “What happens then?”
“It was a devastating loss on both accounts. The Master might retreat from the world, their lineage ending with the loss. However, if the Master falls protecting their Chosen One, the tables turn,” Shinji explained.
Mika leaned in further, captivated by the tale. “How so?”
“There are three choices: The Chosen Apprentice can either continue to serve and protect their late Master’s household, or they meet a new Master to serve and protect.”
“What about the third choice?”
“Their late or current Master grants them absolute freedom to become their own Master. Thus, breaking the bond between them.”
Mika stared out the window, her mind buzzing with the implications.
“But this is a decision you must make, Mika,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “There’s no compulsion. If you choose not to become my apprentice, you are free to leave. The Clan will ensure your safe passage.”
Mika stared at him, speechless. Freedom. It was a word she hadn’t dared to dream of in a long time. But the thought of leaving this strange yet strangely comforting place, leaving Shinji… a pang of something akin to sadness shot through her.
This was a turning point. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, yet a spark of defiance and curiosity ignited within her. She would make her choice, but first, she needed time to understand the weight of this “destiny” thrust upon her.
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MIKA’s body slowly regained its strength after a month of recovery as she wrestled with her inner turmoil. She observed the Clan members, their loyalty to Shinji absolute and their unwavering respect for the traditions. A sliver of trust bloomed within her, but the fear lingered.
Shinji’s words hung heavy in the air, his violet eyes holding an intensity that terrified and intrigued Mika. A Chosen Apprentice? Destined to serve and protect him? It sounded fantastical, almost like a form of indentured servitude. Fear coiled in her gut. What if this was all a ploy to control her, a way to exploit her abilities for the White Wolf Clan’s gain? Mika desperately wanted to understand why Shinji felt such a connection to her, a stranger he’d rescued from near death. But the answer remained shrouded in mystery.
Truthfully, she was afraid of Shinji. A cold dread settled in her stomach whenever their eyes met, a fear that stemmed from his unknown intentions and a flicker of something she couldn’t decipher in his gaze. Was it a predator sizing up its prey? Or perhaps a flicker of… frustration?
Numerous times, Mika had thought to run away, but her weak body recovering from months of bed rest and lack of nutrients kept her grounded. So she waited, devising an escape plan fueled by a desperate need for autonomy.
When the night of the full moon arrived, Mika, finally strong enough, began her escape. The guards, with their uncanny hearing, presented a constant challenge. Even a pin drop couldn’t escape their hawk-like senses. Though Mika often wondered how they possessed such an ability, she never dared to ask.
After a tense series of manoeuvres, Mika reached the mansion’s entrance undetected. She turned and looked back, a pang of guilt twisting in her gut. Though fear had driven her escape attempt, a sliver of gratitude remained for the care she’d received.
“Thank you very much for your generous hospitality,” she whispered into the night, bowing her head slightly. “I wouldn’t know what would happen to me if you hadn’t taken me in, but I do not wish to be a burden to anyone any longer. I’m sorry.”
With a heavy heart, Mika began walking towards the misty main road. A choked sob escaped her lips. Freedom, while terrifying, was all she craved.
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Suddenly, a voice echoed from the shadows. Shinji stood before her, his face an unreadable mask. He wore a thin sleepwear robe, his dark hair loose and dishevelled.
Her hands started to tremble, and with a shaking voice, she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Night stroll,” Shinji reached for a packet of cigarettes and popped one into his mouth before lighting it. “What are you doing out here late this hour?”
“I... I was just... You should head back to bed. You need to wake up early for work, don’t you?”
“You’re avoiding my question,” Shinji said in a smooth voice, exhaling the smoke. He watched how Mika’s shoulders twitched and could see her hands tremble.
Shinji was no idiot. It was just an excuse. He had known for a while the young Spirit had been planning to run away since he told her about being his Chosen Apprentice. Shinji understood how his words had affected her. Thus, I respected her need for some space to think about it.
Silence filled in between them before Mika did something unexpected that caused the cigarette to fall out of Shinji’s mouth: Mika got down on both knees on the cold, hard ground and bowed her head down at him. The long front of her bangs was covering half of her face.
“I’m sorry!”
Mika’s lips trembled, but she forced the words out.
“I-I know what you must think of me — that I’m being ungrateful after all that you and your family had done for me.”
Mika exhaled deeply and shut her eyes tightly. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she gathered her words carefully before letting them out.
“But I do not wish to become your Chosen Apprentice.”
Bravely, Mika looked straight into his deep violet eyes.
“I’m sorry. Thank you for everything, and farewell,” Mika turned away again. She was stopped by a couple of guards who just happened to patrol the area.
“Milord! Is everything alright? We heard a loud shout just—”
“Leave us,” Shinji’s sharp, icily tone caused the guards to apologise before returning to their posts.
Shame burned in Mika’s gut. She braced herself for accusations, for anger.
Instead, Shinji surprised her. He draped his white robe over her shivering form, a silent gesture of care. “How long do you intend on running away?” he asked, his voice gentle yet firm.
Mika stared at the retreating figure of Shinji, the weight of his question settling in. He still cared about her well-being even when she’d tried to leave him. Whatever it was, it made her thoroughly think of everything the rest of the night.
Mika did not know what possessed her to make up her mind and decision. He still cared about her well-being even when she’d tried to leave him. Whatever it was, it made her thoroughly think of everything the rest of the night.
Mika had shown up before all the Clan’s Council Members, seeking Shinji’s forgiveness and permission to stay. Shinji had been happy and willing to accept her into his Clan again despite the loud protest from the Clan’s Councilmen. Things went back to calm as soon as Suzumi put her foot down and told the Councilmen to be quiet and leave the decision-making to Shinji.
Though fear hadn’t completely vanished, an uncertain determination replaced it. Mika agreed to train as Shinji’s apprentice but with a caveat – her loyalty wouldn’t be blind obedience.
Shinji, perhaps sensing the storm brewing within her, simply nodded. “With time, Mika,” he murmured, “you’ll understand.”
Their journey had just begun. The path ahead was shrouded in mystery, and the weight of the “Chosen Apprentice” title had yet to be fully understood. But for now, a fragile bond had been forged, a promise whispered on the wind—a promise.
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WEEKS melted into one another after the tense incident the night before. Mika found herself sweeping the vast, gravelled garden, the rhythmic crunch counterpoint to the disquiet gnawing at her. Earlier, she’d approached Shinji, expressing a restlessness stemming from their repetitive training sessions. She craved the chance to contribute, a desire that surprised even her.
Shinji, after a surprised snort, had dismissed the notion. Yet, Mika’s quiet persistence, a reminder of the headstrong girl she once was, eventually won him over. Now, with each fallen leaf, a memory flickered – scrubbing Luyas’ castle floors with raw hands, a stark contrast to the life she now led within these opulent walls.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. Shinji stood on the porch, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his gaze fixed on her labours. He finished the last drag and was about to head inside when a guard approached, whispering urgently. Shinji nodded curtly, then turned to Mika.
“That’s enough for today,” he announced.
Mika surveyed the remaining leaves, a frown creasing her brow. “But there are still so many!”
“They can wait. You have visitors.”
“Visitors? Who?” A knot of apprehension tightened in her stomach.
At the front gates of the White Wolf Clan mansion, Master Commander Grants and Vice-Commandant Claire Boyce stood awestruck. Three colossal bronze wolf statues flanked the entrance, their fierce expressions a silent warning. But the sheer number of guards, each strategically positioned and armed with weaponry, sent a shiver down Grants’ spine.
His keen eyes spotted figures stationed on rooftops and nestled amongst the treetops - archers and javelin throwers, their presence a stark reminder of the consequences of any misstep. A grudging respect bloomed within him. This Lord Shinji clearly prioritised security.
“My apologies for the unexpected arrival, Sir Rogue, Miss Boyce,” Suzumi greeted them with a graceful smile as they reached the grand entrance.
“We are the ones who should apologise, Milady,” Grants replied, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
Suzumi waved her hand dismissively. “No need for such formalities. I was expecting your visit sooner or later. Please, won’t you come in?”
Inside, Claire abruptly halted, hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her sword. Walking silently towards the guest chambers, Mika felt a familiar dread grip her heart. Shinji, his face etched with a scowl, walked beside her. Her steps faltered as she spotted two figures, all too familiar, standing a few paces away.
“Commandant Grants. Miss Claire...” Mika’s voice barely rose above a whisper.
Grants offered a trembling smile, his eyes filled with a flicker of pain as he saw Mika. “It’s been a while, Mika. I was… concerned. But seeing you now, you seem to be thriving.”
Hope flickered in Mika’s chest, but it was short-lived. A glint of metal caught her eye as Claire stepped forward, the tip of her blade pointed menacingly towards Mika.
“We are under orders from Lord Ranfel Heartlets XII,” Claire declared in a clipped tone. “To arrest you and take you back to the castle for your overdue punishment. Resist, and you face the consequences.”
A swarm of White Wolf guards materialised around Mika, swords glinting coldly in the afternoon sun. Snipers and archers took up positions, a silent threat hanging heavy in the air.
Shinji let out a low growl, his plum eyes blazing with fury. Before he could react, Grants stepped forward, his voice firm yet kind.
“Stand down, Boyce,” he commanded.
Claire’s eyes widened in disbelief as Grants raised his hands in surrender. “Sir, but Lord Ranfel—”
“Stand down, now,” Grants repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument. He turned to Shinji, his shoulders slumping in weary defeat. “On behalf of my subordinate’s brash behaviour, I offer my sincerest apologies. This will not happen again.”
Claire, still visibly shaken, slowly lowered her weapon. Suzumi, ever the diplomat, intervened.
“Now that this misunderstanding is cleared,” she said, her voice calm and soothing, “perhaps we can discuss this in a more private setting?”
Suzumi ushered the Luyas Knights to a well-appointed guest room, where tea and refreshments awaited. Mika sat between Shinji and Suzumi, her gaze flitting nervously between them and the tense figures of Grants and Claire across the table.
Grants cleared his throat. “First and foremost,” he began, his voice heavy with regret, “the Master Oracle, Lord Eden, and I did everything in our power to persuade the House of Eden Council to lessen your sentence, Mika. ...There were heated debates and protests,” Grants continued, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “It took months of negotiation before we finally reached a compromise.”
Mika felt a cold dread pool in her stomach. Compromise? What kind of compromise could be worse than returning to Luyas as a criminal?
“Your sentence is exile,” Grants revealed, heavy words in the air. “You are to be permanently banished from the Kingdom of Luyas. If you ever set foot within its borders again, the knights will relentlessly pursue them.”
A suffocating silence descended upon the room. Mika’s mind reeled. Exile. It was a fate worse than death in some ways. The familiar pang of loneliness intensified, and the White Wolf compound suddenly felt like a gilded cage about to be ripped away.
“It wasn’t easy,” Claire added, her voice devoid of sympathy. “Considering the severity of your crime, a harsher punishment was initially considered.”
Shinji let out a low growl, the sound vibrating through the table. Mika glanced at him, his face a mask of suppressed anger.
“There’s no need to rub salt in the wound, Vice-Commandant,” Grants said sharply. He turned to Mika, his gaze filled with sorrow and respect. “Despite what has transpired, I want you to know that Lord Andania, especially, fought for your life. He even convinced the townspeople to leave you alone.”
A flicker of warmth touched Mika’s heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back fiercely.
“However,” Grants continued his voice grave, “the townsfolk’s patience won’t last forever. Unfortunately, as it is, I can no longer offer you my protection.”
Mika’s throat tightened. Despite the tension between them, Grants had attempted to help. Now, she was truly alone.
As Grants and Claire prepared to leave, Mika approached the Commandant.
“Thank you,” Mika said, her voice hoarse. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Grants returned a sad smile. “You were a valuable member of the New Light Brigade, Mika. You are strong, courageous, and possess a loyalty that many could only dream of. Never forget who you are.”
With a final farewell, the Luyas Knights departed, leaving Mika standing alone at the gates. She turned back to the White Wolf compound, a place that had become her sanctuary for a brief period. Shinji stood on the porch, his expression unreadable.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that mirrored the uncertainty clouding Mika’s future. She took a deep breath, the weight of her exile settling heavily upon her shoulders. But within her, a spark of defiance flickered. Exile might be her fate, but where she went and who she became was still up to her.