Walking beside him felt a little awkward. At least, that was how Irynsis felt. Cassion still moved as he always did—scanning the path ahead, steadying her whenever needed—but he didn’t speak first. A quiet silence stretched between them.

She had thought that after so many lives, she had grown used to everything the world could throw at her. But in matters like this, she had no immunity at all.

‘Because I love you.’

His face, when he had confessed those words as though tearing out a painful truth, would not leave her mind.

She despised herself for being too broken, too clumsy to answer him. More than that, she felt guilty.

The vision the labyrinth had shown her—Cassion dying—was the most horrifying moment of all her lives. And yet she kept showing him such sights. Not illusions, but reality.

As a wife, as an ally—or simply as a human being—she was the worst. She knew full well he cared for her, and still she…

What have I done?

Her chest turned cold, her body felt as though it might crumble. She was shameless to the core.

And him—why, of all people, had he chosen her?

‘Why would you love something as broken as me…’

Every thought spiraled back to self-reproach. Even when she tried to walk without thinking, her mind stayed tangled.

‘Where does this road lead?’

Raising her head, she realized the island wasn’t as small as it had seemed. Following the sea serpent’s lead, they soon reached a forest. The trees were plentiful, yet not dense; the path beneath them was smooth, with dappled sunlight falling through the leaves. The rustle of the wind brought a rare sense of peace.

They didn’t dare let down their guard—who knew what tricks the labyrinth might play next?—yet the calm air gave them a measure of reassurance.

The serpent no longer seemed to doubt they would follow. It glided forward without pause.

“Look there.”

Cassion pointed ahead, as though drawn in by something.

Lifting her gaze, Irynsis saw a small spring. Its water was so clear the bottom was visible, shallow and bright.

“Something’s glinting.” 

Before his words even faded, the serpent slid into the water, circling as if to say: Here.

As they approached, they saw it at last— a small chalice of gold and sapphire, lying within the serpent’s coils.

The problem was that it lay in two pieces, the cup and base split apart and half-buried in sand.

“Kh!”

When Cassion tried to step closer, the once-docile serpent hissed sharply, tongue flicking as it rattled like steel.

A warning: You are not permitted further.

“I’ll try.”

“What if it bites—”

Before he could finish, Cassion fell silent, jaw tightening. The memory of her brushing off a poisoned blade as though it were nothing burned bitter in his chest.

Irynsis caught the look in his eyes and opened her mouth to reassure him— but the instant she stepped forward, the serpent slid away, docile once more.

Cassion glared at the creature, displeased, but did not move to stop her.

Irynsis dipped her hand into the spring, carefully lifting the broken chalice. Once above the water, its colors gleamed even more vividly.

Though it had lain submerged since the labyrinth’s sealing, not a trace of moss or decay clung to it. It shone as though wiped daily with the softest cloth.

“Try it.”

Cassion’s voice drew her eyes to him.

“Hm?”

“Use your power—like last time.”

Like when she had called Mater’s name. He didn’t want to see her coughing blood again, but neither could he bear her doing nothing.

More than anyone, he wanted Irynsis to achieve what she desired. As long as he was with her, she would never be alone.

If she faltered, he would be the one to fill what was lacking.

“I said I love you, Irynsis. That doesn’t mean I ever wanted to stand in your way.”

Her ears flushed red at the feelings he no longer tried to hide. She wanted to answer, but her thoughts tangled and scattered too wildly to form a single word.

Her dry lips parted, yet no sound came. At last, Irynsis drew forth her sacred power. Light, pale and shimmering, flared from her fingertips, swelling until it enveloped her from head to toe.

Cassion narrowed his eyes against the brilliance, but never moved from her side. And then— something miraculous unfolded before him.

‘It’s whole.’

The chalice, broken clean in two, knit itself together in her hands. The stem and base fused seamlessly, the cracks vanishing as though they had never been.

Irynsis’s golden eyes flew open, startled.

“Mistiel?”

The name slipped from her lips in a faint murmur. And at that very instant—

Kuooong—

A deep, resonant tremor shook the entire world.

***

By the time the shock reached the outside, dusk had fallen. The sea burned crimson and violet under the setting sun, and the commanders watching from the shore let out restless sighs.

No word had come from their lord or his wife. The massive stone labyrinth, impervious to every strike and even their explosives, remained sealed tight. With nothing left to do, they had formed a camp around the ships and the looming cave.

The Mare, too, grew anxious. None more so than Penna, who looked ready to claw her way inside if she could. Perhaps this was their last hope. If the sacred relic could be reclaimed—as Terra’s had been—then perhaps the children at least would have a place to grow.

So, despite their differences, the Pathsbender knights and the Mare gathered together outside the labyrinth, unable to leave. Even Nautil, the old wizard so obstinate before, had planted himself there, eager to know what was happening inside.

The Mare women scraped together what little food they had left to cook. The Pathsbender knights added from their rations, and all sat in a heavy, subdued silence, eating mechanically.

“Your lady.” 

Penna said at last, breaking the quiet as she shoved a piece of bread into her mouth. The commanders all turned sharply to her.

“She’s got a temper like no other…”

“Our Lady’s temper is second to none.” 

Hugo replied, nodding gravely.

“And knowing that, you dared to kidnap her?”

“Would I have done it if I’d known?” 

Penna shot back, weary and exasperated.

Even Jubin, ready to argue, fell silent at the sincerity in her tone. No sane person would carry a live bomb with its fuse already lit.

Penna exhaled a long breath.

“So she’ll win, won’t she? Against that damned labyrinth.”

“What?”

“That labyrinth, I’d bet she will.”

Even Nautil’s maze worried her. If the Pathsbender duke and duchess were trapped forever, Mare would be doomed the moment the duke’s knights turned its wrath upon them. And now, their only hope lay in the very woman they’d once taken hostage—and her unshakable temper.

As if on cue, every one of them sighed together.

Then—

The darkening sea flared white. The commanders, who had once seen that light in the kingdom of Terra, dropped their food and leapt to their feet.

Kuooong—

The sound rolled across the land. Cracks split the massive stone sealing the labyrinth.

Nautil’s spoon slipped from his trembling hand. The great rocks shattered into fragments, crumbling into sand that the sea wind carried away.

Light burst outward like arrows breaking free from the dark, piercing every corner.

“What in the world—!”

“Our Lady’s temper, that’s what!” 

Someone shouted over the din, eyes squeezed shut against the brilliance.

At last, the light receded— and silhouettes emerged from within.

“My lord!”

“My lady!”

The commanders rushed forward—only to stop short.

Behind the duke and duchess stood a figure, no mere human but something otherworldly.

“The relic… the relic of Mare!”

Nautil, trembling, felt his knees give way. Yet he dragged himself across the sand toward the vision, tears streaking his wrinkled face.

The aura thickened, shaping itself into a woman. Her hair flowed like waves, her eyes the color of the deepest sea, her every step scattering drops of crystalline water.

“I heard whispers from Mater.” 

She said, her clear voice ringing like falling water. Her gaze fixed unerringly on Irynsis.

“But I never thought you would truly call my name, Apostle of light.”

Mistiel—

Guardian of Mare, sovereign of water, had awakened.