She should have been in agony. Her broken arm, her drained body, her bleeding wounds—every muscle should have been screaming at her to stop, to rest, to lie down.
To give in.
Instead, Miko was flying.
Her feet left the ground, and for a dizzying moment, she was airborne, weightless. She landed clumsily, stumbling but not falling, her body adjusting with an instinct that wasn’t entirely her own.
There was a power coursing through her veins now. It was like waking up after a fever had burned itself out, when the ache was gone and the world felt startlingly clear.
Like taking the first deep breath after nearly drowning.
Her pulse didn’t feel like her own—it beat alongside another rhythm, something steady and sure, intertwined with her own.
“Is this… you?” she asked, looking at the moonfox.
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”
Miko nodded. She felt the same.
Or, rather, she felt more like herself than she ever did. She felt . She felt awake.
A nearly hysterical laugh escaped her mouth.
She was overwhelmed with emotions, all her senses exposed to the elements.
She could feel her arm again. The broken bones began to mend. Something thrummed inside Miko, steady and powerful, drowning out the pain.
Her feet shifted instinctively, testing the ground beneath her. The moonfox paced beside her.
Miko thought, and the words didn’t feel entirely hers.
“Don’t just think it, then,” the moonfox said aloud, jumping on her back. “Do it.”
She crouched, unsure where the movement came from—a memory, perhaps. Her legs coiled with energy, and then she leapt. The first jump was too short, her feet scraping against the muddy wall before she slid back down.
She closed her eyes and tried again. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She pushed off the ground, and her legs responded with a strength that startled her.
Her fingertips grazed the pit's edge, but not enough to catch. The moonfox barked sharply.
The next attempt felt effortless. Her feet left the ground, and for a breathless moment, she soared.
Just like the moonfox did back then, she kicked off a wall a few times. It was surprisingly easy, even with the added weight of the silver beast on her back.
When she landed at the edge of the pit, she didn’t stumble. She felt steady, as though her body already knew what to do. The moonfox leapt up beside her, impossibly light, his tail flicking as though this were all a casual game to him.
“We’re out,” he said. “Time to run.”
“What don’t I get?” the moonfox asked, confused. Perhaps Miko was thinking too loud.
“I’m not running,” she replied firmly. She felt the dirt under her hands, the fresh air filling her lungs, the hum of shared power running through her veins. “Not ever.”
The moonfox’s ears flicked. “You’re stubborn.”
“You just noticed?”
Miko stood, her breath evening out as she stared into the shadows of the Laughing Forest. The embermane was out there. She could feel it now, like an itch beneath her skin.
Her senses—or, rather, senses—were sharper, more acute. The embermane’s scent lingered in the air, acrid and burning, and her new instincts screamed
“It caught our scent,” the moonfox said, his voice low.
“I’m well aware,” Miko replied. Her hand flexed, and for the first time, she didn’t think about what she was going to do next—she simply moved.
“We’re going after it.”
The moonfox huffed, something between a sigh and a laugh. “Of all the humans…”
Miko didn’t answer. Her feet were already carrying her forward, toward the beast waiting for her in the darkness.
The forest seemed to shudder around her.
The embermane wouldn’t wait forever. And neither would she.
Her heart felt like it had caught fire.
The world seemed brighter, crisper, alive in ways it had never been before. The exhaustion, the pain in her broken arm, the bruises on her body—all of it was muted, distant, like a bad dream she had just woken from.
Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer energy waiting to be unleashed.
Was this the Thrill she’d read so much about?
“Conjure something,” the moonfox said. “You need a weapon. A sword. A pointy stick. Anything.”
Miko didn’t even think about it. She raised her hand, palm open, and the blood still dripping from her wounds began to gather. It defied gravity, swirling upward in ribbons of crimson light. She stared, wide-eyed, as the blood twisted and hardened, reshaping itself.
that
A blade formed in her hand. The light was dancing across its slick surface.
It wasn’t perfect—its edge was rough, its weight slightly unbalanced—but it was real. Hers. She felt the cold bite of its presence against her palm, the way it fit like an extension of her arm.
It was unlike anything she’d ever imagined.
“I did it,” she whispered, her voice trembling with awe.
“Of course you did,” the moonfox said, his tone almost reverent. “It’s your blood. It answers only to you.”
Miko took a step forward and swung the blade experimentally. It moved easily, effortlessly, like it had been waiting for her all along.
The air whistled as it cut through, and Miko couldn’t help but laugh—a short, breathless sound that surprised even her.
In that moment, she wasn’t just Miko the village girl, the daughter of Lord Takami, a poor fool with a bleeder’s disease.
She swung the blade again and, for the first time in her life, felt untouchable.
“I hope you have more battle experience than that,” the moonfox whined.
He wanted to add something—another biting remark, no doubt—but his eyes turned to the shrubbery. There was that low, rumbling growl again.
The embermane was here.
The moonfox crouched low, its muscles tensing as the embermane’s outline emerged through the trees. Unrelenting fiery eyes of a lizard, burning with anger, locked onto Miko
The creature was massive, its mane glowing like molten lava, heat radiating off its body in waves. The scenery around him seemed to dance because of the heat.
Miko remembered seeing the beast in a scroll.
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The embermane snarled, lowering itself, ready to pounce. But Miko didn’t wait. She lunged forward, her blood-forged blade held steady in her grip, moving with a surprising grace.
She was faster, sharper. Every sound heightened, every instinct honed.
The embermane lashed out and swiped its claws through the air in a furious arc. Miko ducked, rolling beneath it, her bloodblade slicing upward to meet the beast’s fiery flank.
The blade met flesh with a sickening hiss, and she felt a strange satisfaction as her weapon bit into the embermane’s side, drawing out a sputtering burst of black, tar-like blood and flame.
Her heart thundered.
Miko leapt back, narrowly dodging another of the embermane’s claws, the world around her moving faster, then slower, then faster again.
The moonfox!
This was a riddle for later.
Miko gritted her teeth, grounding herself as the embermane whipped its head toward her, its glowing eyes narrowing.
“I haven’t forgotten,” she muttered under her breath, tightening her grip on the blade.
But part of her couldn’t deny the Thrill rushing through her veins. She’d never felt power like this before, and even with the danger, it was intoxicating.
She and Teru once stole a gourd of what they believed was heartweed wine. Later they learned it was some industrial alcohol but at that moment, they felt they belonged to a secret club of adults.
The feeling of that intoxication was but a fraction of what she was feeling now.
The embermane lunged again, its claws raking through the air, but this time Miko was ready. She sidestepped, leading it toward the shallow pit she’d dug earlier and hidden beneath a thin layer of leaves and dirt.
The embermane’s front paw caught on the edge, and it stumbled, snarling as it tried to regain its footing.
Miko seized the moment, darting forward to slash at its exposed flank. The bloodblade sliced through its fiery mane, leaving a trail of scorched fur and blackened blood. The embermane howled in rage, twisting its body to swipe at her with its claws.
Miko barely managed to leap back in time, the tips of the claws grazing her sleeve.
“Thanks for the advice,” she snapped, wiping sweat from her brow. Her traps were working, slowing the embermane just enough to give her an edge.
But not enough to end the fight. Not yet.
She put out her index finger, in poor imitation of the weapons the Iron League has brought from overseas. Miko has never seen one in real life, but she knew it was some thunder stick that shot metal balls.
She made a gesture, and a blood bullet shot from her finger.
It ripped a thin rope hidden in the leaves, and a net snapped downward, entangling the beast’s legs. The embermane roared in fury, thrashing against the restraints.
“It won’t hold,” the moonfox said, darting to the side.
“Wasn’t meant to,” Miko muttered, already moving.
She then lit one of the clay pots with a spark of fire magic, and smoke billowed out in thick, choking clouds.
The embermane thrashed as it tried to shake itself free.
Miko grabbed another pot and flung it at the beast’s feet. The explosion of herbs and smoke disoriented it further, and for a moment, she felt like she had a fighting chance.
The embermane snarled and burst through the net with a surge of strength. Miko stumbled back, narrowly avoiding a sweep of its claws.
The moonfox darted forward, snapping at its flank to draw its attention.
“You’ve got its focus. Do something!” he barked.
Miko backed toward one of the pitfalls she’d dug, carefully positioning herself between the embermane and the trap. As it charged, she sidestepped at the last moment, and the beast’s weight carried it forward.
The ground gave way beneath it, and it fell with a thunderous crash.
It was already too late. The embermane was clawing its way out of the pit.
The beast was slower now, blood dripping from its legs, but its eyes burned with a furious light.
The embermane reared up. Its mane dimmed for a moment, and Miko even thought the last of its strength left the beast, but then it flared even brighter than before, blinding her.
Miko stumbled. She couldn’t see, couldn’t tell where the beast was.
She rubbed her eyes but could only see white.
she thought calmly, jumping to the side, hoping to anticipate the attack.
And then, as if someone had flipped a switch, her vision shifted.
She was watching from a distance through eyes that did not belong to her. She could see the embermane now, its body a searing silhouette against the dark forest. She could see its movements, the tension in its muscles as it prepared to strike.
, she understood at once.
Miko adjusted her stance and darted to the side again just as the embermane lunged. Its claws slammed into the ground where she’d stood a moment earlier.
Miko’s vision snapped back to her own, leaving her dizzy for a moment. She blinked rapidly, then pivoted and drove her blade into its side.
The wound was shallower than she intended.
she told herself, gripping a makeshift blade. Beside her, the moonfox growled low.
Miko didn’t hesitate. She launched forward, her movements faster than she had ever felt, her senses tuned to each shift of the embermane’s massive body.
The beast swiped at her with a flaming paw, but she darted beneath it, driving her blade toward its exposed underbelly. Her blade struck true, sinking into its fur, but the embermane barely flinched. Instead, it turned on her with a snarl, flames licking higher along its mane.
“Not enough,” she muttered, frustration twisting in her gut.
Even with this newfound power, the embermane was still more than a match. She was stronger than she’d ever been, and yet, she could feel the embermane’s strength like an overwhelming tide pressing against her.
The moonfox leapt in, darting to the embermane’s side and snapping at its legs.
For a brief moment, the embermane seemed distracted, stumbling as it tried to focus on both of them. Miko took the chance to lunge forward, aiming for its shoulder this time, hoping to bring it down.
The impact rattled through her arm as the blade connected—and again, the embermane shook it off.
Sweat dripped down Miko’s brow, and she exchanged a quick look with the moonfox. They couldn’t keep this up much longer.
She felt the heat of its breath as it loomed over her, its jaws opening wide. Miko braced herself.
She could feel her energy waning, and the embermane, though wounded, was far from defeated.
That’s when it happened.
Instead of charging Miko, the embermane, almost despite itself, seemed to change its mind at the last moment.
It drove itself toward another snare—a weighted net Miko’d rigged to drop when triggered.
The embermane ran blindly, and the net fell, tangling its legs. It thrashed against the net, its movements growing weaker with each passing second.
Miko approached cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest.
Just as she readied herself for another strike, the embermane’s fiery eyes fixed on her, and…
The eyes, which were filled with blind rage only a few moments ago, now reflected something else. Something intelligent. Something .
“Kill… me…”
Miko staggered back as if slapped. “What…?” she whispered.
A sickly, pathetic sound escaped the monster’s maw, and Miko decided that this was all she heard.
She searched its eyes and, again, found something that shouldn’t have been there.
“Are you…”
“Please,” the monster rasped, with eyes that started to fade. Its voice faltered, so it sounded closer to . “Kill me… end…”
Miko read a lot of stories about people who started seeing things—and things—from dehydration.
But the moment felt all too real. More real than the breakfast she has had that morning, more real than all the chores she had to do around the Old Mother’s temple.
The embermane opened its mouth again but didn’t have the strength to talk anymore. In a way, Miko was thankful she didn’t have to hear it.
But the eyes, they pleaded with her.
Some time passed. A moment perhaps, or maybe two days. Miko couldn’t tell.
“What are you waiting for? Now! Kill it now!” someone screamed at her. Miko woke from her trance and turned her head.
It was that moonfox.
Miko realized casually, waking up from her trance.
She raised the blade with a surprisingly steady hand. The embermane exhaled its final breath.
Miko’s blade found its mark.
“What now?”
The fox was staring at her, and she felt its presence more sharply than ever. There was distrust still in his eyes, but beneath it, she also sensed a…
What? Grudging acceptance? Understanding? Gratitude?
It fell somewhere in the middle of all three.
Miko nodded.
Some time has passed, and the thrill she felt all but evaporated. Her body was no longer alive with the music. For the first time in what felt like forever, Miko let herself rest.
Her blood-forged blade dissolved, leaving only a faint crimson stain. Her chest heaved with every breath, her arms and legs trembling as the last of the battle lust drained from her body.
As if to provide a contrast to her, the embermane lay motionless, its flames forever extinguished.
No, surely it was some other Miko that did this.
Her vision blurred for a moment, and she blinked rapidly to clear it. Every muscle ached, and the gnawing emptiness inside her was worse than hunger
She had poured so much energy into the fight that she felt like a hollow shell.
“You look terrible,” the moonfox said dryly. His silver fur was matted with dirt, and he limped slightly on one leg—almost like Lord Takami’s banewolf—but still managed to carry himself with an undeserved amount of poise. “Are all humans this fragile or is it just you?”
Miko was too exhausted to muster more than a weak retort. “I just saved both our lives, so maybe you could try saying thank you instead.”
The fox sat back on his haunches, tilting his head as if considering her words. “Hmm. Thank you for digging that pit you swore you didn’t dig.”
She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. The forest around them seemed to return to its natural rhythm.
The moonfox glanced at her, his gaze unreadable. “You’ve tied our lives together, whether I like it or not. Whatever you choose to do, I’m now bound to follow.”
If he had shoulders, Miko imagined he would have shrugged.
“I didn’t plan for this, you know,” she managed to say. “I wanted to bond with something powerful, something that would make my father respect me. I didn’t think it would… end up like this.”
“Am I supposed to be insulted or flattered?” the moonfox asked in a dry tone. “You didn’t get your embermane, but you got me instead. I’d say you came out ahead.”
“Would you now?” Miko murmured. If she wasn’t so damn exhausted, she might have even smiled.
She let the silence stretch between them for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. I’ve spent so much time thinking about getting a bond that I never thought about what would happen after.”
Their lives were intertwined now, and that thought was as daunting as it was reassuring. She wasn’t alone, at least.
The moonfox huffed softly. “Find me here tomorrow. Or the day after.”
And with that, the silver beast disappeared.
The thought never completely left her head, but it was now front and center.
Without giving herself another moment of respite, Miko ran.
She stumbled through the forest, her legs dragging like dead weight. She could feel the embermane’s blood still linger on her hands, sticky and warm, but whenever she looked down, she would see no blood.
All of the other traps had held, barely, but she couldn’t stop wondering if Sai might’ve fallen into one of the others. She had checked every pit on her way back, calling his name into the night until her voice was hoarse, but found nothing but silence.
Her mind was in knots as she entered the village. For once, she didn’t even care if anyone saw her in this state—bruised, battered, and smeared with dirt.
Teru was still playing with a wooden sword outside their home when she approached. His face lit up with joy at first, but his expression quickly changed to concern.
“Miko?” He stood, brushing off his hands. “What h-happened to you?”
She grabbed him by the arm, her voice cracking. “Sai—where is he? You have to help—”
Teru blinked, confused. “Sai? What do you mean? He’s fast asleep.”
Relief hit her like a hammer, and with it came a tidal wave of exhaustion. The last of her strength finally gave out.
“Miko!” Teru caught her, his hands gripping her shoulders.
Miko collapsed.