In the midst of darkness and emptiness, Sena's consciousness lay still, suspended and wary.
An imposing presence lingered in the space, as if suffocating her.
Looking for a hint of light or an exit, her awareness settled on something that seemed to resemble immense, coiling wheels within wheels. Not fixed to an axle, but each intricately nested within the other.
The rims of this wheel-within-wheels structure appeared to be swarming, covered with a multitude of all-seeing, unblinking eyes. These eyes, piercing and cold, gazed out in every direction.
An unsettling awareness that knew no blind spots.
The wheels themselves were made of a material like gleaming beryl or a polished dark gemstone, reflecting light with an uncommon sheen.
She was stunned by such a presence.
Her consciousness couldn't fully grasp the image: a multitude of eyes within a wheel, suspended in the darkness that had completely encapsulated her.
In a split second, the all-seeing eyes… once wandering in all directions, suddenly transfixed their glare upon her.
Little by little, the eyes began to move.
Silent and impossibly fluid.
Not rolling on any surface, but levitating and turning in every direction without needing to shift orientation. Their piercing gaze locked fully onto her.
Fixated on her consciousness, a low, persistent hum, just beyond the edge of human hearing, accompanied their motion.
A vibrational tremor, suggesting immense power, reverberated through the void as the presence crawled toward her.
She tried to scream, but deemed it futile. No sound could be made from her drifting consciousness.
Yet just beyond the wheel-within-wheels of imposing eyes, there was a flicker of light in the distance.
She found herself floating toward the light, which gradually grew… until it swallowed the darkness whole. And then… she blinked.
Her eyes fluttered awake.
To her right, she noticed two imposing figures.
One of Idris, directly beside her, and another just as tall, but with a slender form, standing behind him. His right hand rested on Idris's shoulder, as if needing to fix him in place.
Idris's deep-set, silvery grey eyes were now nothing but pitch black. Even the whites had turned completely dark. She trembled at the sight.
Looking over to the man behind him, his piercing gaze shimmered in a striking emerald green, eerily similar to the eyes that covered the wheels-within-wheels.
She pushed herself backward, only to lean against the headrest of the bed—a dead end—as if trying to make space between herself and the ghastly-looking men before her.
Chase smiled gently at her, and as he lifted his hand from Idris's shoulder, Idris's knees gave out beneath him, and he slumped to the floor.
Idris let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Haaaahhh… I fucking hate this," he muttered under his breath.
"Yeah, I know," Chase replied with a smirk.
Sena, still in shock from what she had just witnessed, couldn't say a word.
Chase kept a respectful distance and clasped both hands in front of him. In a soothing, gentle voice, he said, "I'm sorry. Did we scare you? That was not our intention."
Sena's fearful eyes flicked back down to Idris, now slumped at the floor.
She searched for his eyes, needing to see if they were still that terrifying black. To her relief, his unseeing gaze was now fixed on the duvet, and his irises had returned to their familiar silvery grey.
"It's okay, Sena. Calm down," Idris said in a composed, reassuring tone, doing his best to conceal the fatigue from sharing his soul-sight.
"I know this is a lot to take in. But he means no harm."
Sena sat there quietly, waiting for the right moment to ask what she had just seen. Her gaze studied the man standing behind Idris, sizing him up from head to toe.
He had an ever-intimidating presence; his hooded, light green eyes almost ashy in tone, framed by thick grey lashes.
His grey hair was layered and flowy, textured to the collar, with sinewy streaks of black peeking from underneath the white like natural highlights. He didn't seem too old, but not quite Idris's age either.
Maybe around forty? she guessed, noting the faint lines around his eyes and mouth, perhaps from smiling or squinting often.
His lips curved into a thin smirk. His face was smooth, almost elegant, with a pale complexion touched by a faint blush.
He wore a long vassal dress in off-white, layered over a grey turtleneck that concealed his collar and jawline. Sapphire-blue embellishments ran along the edges of the fabric in thick, embossed stitching.
It made him look slightly out of place. And yet, for a man wearing something so enveloping, his lean and slender figure was striking.
There was poise in his posture, an aura of quiet nobility. He radiated an academic presence, refined and bright without arrogance.
So… is that what a noble's attire looks like here? she wondered.
Idris slowly got up from the floor, using one knee for support. He straightened himself and brushed the dust from his clothes.
"Let me finish the rabbit steak and truffle gravy I prepared for you. It's evening now. You must be hungry," he said gently, pressing her right hand with a light squeeze.
"Don't worry. He doesn't bite. He'll explain what just happened… so please, keep an open mind." His gaze stayed just off her face, resting somewhere near the pillow beside her.
But his tone and manner were so calm, so tender, that they grounded her in comfort.
She gave a small nod.
"Mmhmm…" she murmured in agreement. Idris released her hand and walked toward the door, giving Chase a pat on the shoulder as he passed.
Grabbing the chair by the desk and pulling it closer to the bed, Chase took no delay in settling comfortably beside Sena.
"I hope you don't mind. I'm just here to ask you some questions. Is that okay?" Chase asked respectfully, each word measured and calm.
"I'm sorry. We must have startled you," Chase said, his voice soothing and gentle.
"I'm Chase Ashriel, the Royal Physician. Idris summoned me after a maledict manifested in this room. How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?"
Hearing and seeing no response from her, Chase gently added, "If you need to see some identification, I can gladly provide it," he said, already reaching into the side pocket of his vassal dress.
"Ah—no, it's okay," Sena finally replied, her voice just above a whisper.
She was still clearly shaken from what she had seen in the darkness… and from what her eyes had opened to upon waking.
Chase let out a soft sigh and smiled gently. He waited patiently for her to speak further, his gaze resting softly on hers. There was no pity in it, but he could tell just how deeply traumatized she was.
Since Idris could share his soul-sight with him alone… an ability they had discovered by accident when they were younger, Chase knew all too well that it was not a sight for anyone to behold lightly.
"We were young. About eighteen," Chase began, recalling his earlier years with Idris.
He hoped that sharing a piece of their past might help lower Sena's guard… just enough for him to assess her later.
"I was with my brother, doing my first outreach mission to the outskirts of Ugarta, where poverty was prominent... and Idris had just been stationed there from Kaelshara for his first two-year overseas assignment," Chase spoke while staring absently at the desk, where he noticed the Compendium booklet still lying open in the middle.
Sena remained silent, listening intently.
She saw how the man before her wanted to earn her trust. And sharing a memory close to the heart? That went far deeper than any identification card could ever reach.
Chase chuckled to himself, remembering how Idris used to have long, flowing hair. He would often tuck strands behind his ears.
"He didn't look scrawny back then, but he wasn't as intimidating as he was now either," smiling at the memory.
"Back then, Idris could still see. And he was already a fierce warrior. With his lignum barrier skills, good for both offense and defense, he was always willing and eager to spar with my older brother, who had the ability to weave silk."
He remembered how his brother moved swiftly, with agility and intense speed, like an assassin. Though his build was just as slender as his own, his brother's strength far surpassed that of Idris, and even most of the Defenders of the Ash.
"My brother used to say, 'I know exactly how much my ability can harm people. Which is why I choose to heal them with it instead,' every time we trained," his eyes glimmered fondly at the memory.
Chase smiled faintly, recalling the times his brother used his silk-weaving ability to stitch their wounds after training sessions, or battles against lesser maledicts.
"He was charming, you know, endearing, caring, and deeply considerate. So much so that the Commander once recommended him to become the sparring instructor for both the Defenders and the Royal Squadron."
But his brother had chosen a path far removed from combat.
"He poured his heart into helping the weak. That's why he was always off in another country, doing outreach missions."
That's how he met Idris. That's how they became close companions.
Chase remembered how Idris would gawk at his brother's prowess, so much so that he often teased him for it.
He recalled a moment where Idris sat sipping morning coffee on the balcony of an inn overlooking the slum village plaza. He'd watch as Chase's brother led the townsfolk through morning exercises to improve their quality of life.
Chase would tease him, saying, "You look like a perverted stalker with the way you stare at him." He slightly chuckled at the memory of Idris's flustered face.
"There was a time when the Kaelsharan warriors stationed in the village had to collaborate with our outreach team…" he continued, voice now serious, "to eliminate an Impiety that had taken over."
It had overwhelmed the slums, probably due to the locals' complete disregard for divine beings, or even their mocking of Elioudra's existence. Ugarta was known for its proud people, who believed in nothing but their own hands.
He described the clash that followed: a battle so fierce, so cold, that frost-covered spikes almost consumed the streets of the slum.
"At one point, the lid of Idris's eye was slashed, nearly gouging it out. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he pivoted just in time to avoid a fatal blow… but his eyelid was torn. It didn't blind him, but it slowed him down."
"I reached out to him then, not knowing he had soul-sight. My ability isn't anything special, really. I just end up resonating with others' lesser skills while somehow siphoning a fraction of their life force."
"I guess in the heat of the moment, we shared his soul-sight. It was my first time too. Suddenly, I could see clearly in the dark, but invertedly. It was shocking. I didn't know he had that kind of ability. It made him even more formidable."
"My brother, who was landing the final blow at the time, caught a glimpse of us. He described Idris as having hollow, blackened eyes, bleeding from the cut… And me? He said I looked like a green-eyed goddess."
"In Idris's view, he saw the wheel-within-wheels of eyes. I think... that's what drains the life force from him." His knees bobbed up and down on the chair, as if tensed from the reminder of their shared experience.
Oh, is that what I saw? Sena thought, It wasn't a dream.
"We've been through a lot, you see… Idris and I. From scrawny teenagers to comrades fighting side-by-side against maledicts."
He paused, his gaze distant. His voice lowered.
"Until I lost my brother… to a wicked maledict. Idris was the only one I could lean on then." His voice trembled slightly at the memory. He looked down, quiet.
Sena, seeing his sorrow, slowly reached out and held his hand… an unspoken gesture to console him.
But before their skins touched, he slowly moved away.
"I can't afford to accidentally drain out your life force too Sena. Having an Impiety touching your soul just moments ago. You might get weaker."
He looked down, as if dejected or ashamed of his next words. "Unfortunately, unlike my brother, I don't have the ability to heal."
"It's ok… You're still a physician, aren't you? I don't think I have any ability you can resonate with anyway," she chuckled lightly as she depreciated herself a little bit.
"Hah…" he forced himself to chuckle at his own incompetence.
"I am. I can perceive the very electrical currents within you, tracing the faint surges of a lingering fever, the erratic sparks of minor joint pains, or the buzzing interference of migraines. Even the deep-seated hum of intense illnesses and the distorted frequencies of maledicts become clear to me. But, only the Daughters have the divinity to heal." He looked at her straight in the eyes, as if warning her.
"You have two souls, Sena. I saw it. Idris saw it… You have to know… in Azarette… You are an abomination."
He said with eyes so sad he felt and understood exactly why Idris didn't turn this stray of a woman to the Royal Squadron immediately.
She slowly stretched her hand towards Chase, inviting him to touch hers. "Hold my hand… Uhm, Ch— Chase," feeling shy about calling him by his name.
"Then… hold my hand anyway. Even if you can't heal me. Just… stay. Tell me what's wrong with me. I think that's enough."