The Travelers Arrive

“If I have to tell you one more time, you’re sleeping in the wagon until your back and butt turn wagon-seat-shaped!”

Winia, quietly setting a table in the Big Bear Inn, paused for a moment. But only for a moment; her amber eyes didn’t bother trailing to the ceiling, in the direction of the guest rooms. She’d grown accustomed to hearing screaming in the morning. Ignoring it had become part of her routine.

Although they’d haggled for a sizeable discount on the price of their room, there was no denying that they were paying guests. In the off-season, paying guests were scarce—especially for the small and conservative Big Bear Inn. The inn couldn’t afford to house only non-screaming customers.

“What?! If I have to sleep in the wagon, then you’re sleeping in the dirt! And then you can eat grass for breakfast and spend half your day sitting in the outhouse!”

Winia rubbed a spot of dirt from the plate in her hand. Taurus was a provincial town in the eastern part of the Linevan Kingdom, one of the one hundred and five holy sites of the kingdom’s official religion of Mauserism. During the pilgrimage season, one could expect a certain level of bustle and festivity, but Taurus was no more than a one-horse town the rest of the year.

But however rural Taurus was, its well-kept roads brought a decent number of merchants, minstrels, and travelers with nothing better to do in the off-season. The Big Bear Inn was one of the few Taurus inns that stayed open year-round and was subjected to whoever felt like passing through.

Like screamers, Winia thought absently.

By the time Winia had finished setting the table for breakfast, the ruckus from above had quieted. She heard a pair of footsteps patting down the stairs.

“Good morning,” came a chirp.

“Good morning,” Winia murmured. She glanced up and saw what she always saw after the screaming tapered off: a tall, lean girl with a cheerful smile on her face.

The girl’s jet-black hair reached halfway down her back, and her midnight eyes glistened. The paleness of her smooth skin and the whiteness of her casual dress contrasted sharply with the dark luster of her hair and eyes. She was not extravagant, but her features were refined, and none would deny that she was beautiful. The only thing that seemed at odds with her beauty was the slightly dazed look she often wore on her face—like a person recently woken.

The guest book listed her as Raquel Casull. Winia stared at her, wondering how to get one’s skin to look so lovely.

“Something wrong?” Raquel asked, tilting her head a bit. Her midnight hair swayed with such elegance that Winia found herself flustered for a moment.

“N-nothing,” Winia muttered, quickly averting her eyes. She noticed her own reflection in a metal serving tray. Stubborn red hair. Freckles, with a dark complexion. Eyes that were peculiarly adult, plain, and amber. She wasn’t necessarily ugly, but she knew she wasn’t beautiful. There was nothing particularly unique or noteworthy about her. In fact, during the seventeen years of her life, not once had she been told she was pretty.

She wondered why God was so unfair.

“It sounds like everyone’s awake in your room,” Winia said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Ah. I’m sorry about the noise.”

Winia shrugged. “We don’t have any other guests right now, so you’re not waking anyone up. Grandma and I only care if you break something.”

Winia’s grandmother, the only other caretaker of the inn, spent most of her days bedridden in her room. Winia had lost both her parents at a young age—young enough that she didn’t remember a thing about them.

“I don’t have siblings, so I’m curious… do brothers and sisters always fight so often?”

Raquel pursed her lips. “Well,” she admitted, “I don’t know how it is in other families. Mine is… unusual.” She paused.

As if to fill the silence, another pair of footsteps thumped down the stairs. They were accompanied by the sound of something rather large being dragged.

Winia turned. Shannon Casull, very obviously not dressed for the day, yawned as he descended.

“Morning,” he mumbled, dragging his bundle down the stairs.

He usually kept his long hair tied back in a ponytail, so seeing it down was a first for Winia. With his dark hair spilling down his back, she could see more clearly that he and Raquel were related.

Winia wondered, not for the first time, why Raquel and Shannon seemed to share nothing more than basic physical qualities. His face was as refined and attractive as Raquel’s, but opposed to her soft smiles, he often wore listless expressions. His perpetual exhaustion made him seem quite a bit older than he actually was. Perhaps he had a lot to worry about.

“Good morning,” muttered Shannon’s captive, dangling from her collar like a misbehaving kitten. Her toes barely reached the hardwood floor as Shannon hauled her alongside him.

Pacifica Casull. Winia had been told she was the youngest of the Casulls, but she saw no resemblance— Pacifica’s eyes were sky blue, and her wildly tangled hair, usually tamed into pinned-up braids, gleamed like spun gold. She was in her mid-teens, and although her somewhat small stature made her seem rather cute, her delicate facial features held a hidden elegance. If dressed in a fine gown and sitting quietly in a corner, she could easily pass as the daughter of the social elite.

But being dragged by the collar, her navel peeking out from under her shirt, wasn’t exactly the picture of elegance. And with all the shrieking she did in the morning, Winia couldn’t imagine the girl ever sitting quietly.

Winia leveled her gaze at the two siblings. “So the battle’s over?” she asked dryly.

Pacifica shrugged and snorted, but her disdain was difficult to take seriously as she dangled in the air. “But not the war,” she snapped. “How am I supposed to spend day and night with a geezer who complains about everything? ‘What a hassle, what a hassle.’” She swung a kick at Shannon and missed. That only made her angrier. “Why don’t you just wear a sign on your back that says, ‘Life’s a pain’ and save us all your bellyaching?!”

“Calm down.”

“No! I go out of my way to wake you up in the morning like a kind and humble superior, so you release your morning nastiness on me? I don’t deserve that, you insubordinate jerk!”

“Raquel,” Shannon said in clear distaste. “I think it’s time we ditched the princess.”

“Oh, my.”

“You know what your problem is?!” Pacifica ranted on. “You don’t respect me, Shannon! You don’t understand your position as my subject!”

“You’re the last one to talk about not understanding one’s position, Pacifica.”

“You… you smell like old socks!”

Winia ignored the rest of their bickering and waited until Raquel fulfilled her daily duty of stepping in to end the fight.

As Winia went off to fetch breakfast, she found herself, as usual, contemplating the Casulls. She had to admit that their family dynamic intrigued her a bit; their odd yet comfortable exchanges were new to Winia. She realized that she would often just sit and watch them for hours on end, and not just because they were her only guests.

The one thing in particular she hadn’t yet figured out was the “master and subject” nicknames. Winia had once wondered if Pacifica might be an incognito noble, traveling with two servants disguised as her siblings… but she had since scrapped that idea. If Shannon actually was Pacifica’s subject, Pacifica had no reason whatsoever to keep such a rude employee on her payroll.

“You ate it?! You actually ATE IT?! I can’t believe you, Shannon!”

Winia leaned against a nearby wall as the family ate breakfast. She didn’t really feel like doing chores anyway.

“You know that omelets are my favorite! How can you just finish it by yourself without thinking of me?!”

“Because it was on my plate.”

“Shut up! That kind of selfishness, that complete lack of compromise only… um…” She quickly pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve and skimmed it. “It… unfairly distributes the wealth, causing poverty in the lower classes and need-spurred violence! You’re the source of crime, Shannon!”

“Did you actually prepare notes for this?”

“I guess my logic’s too advanced for a knave like you! In layman’s terms, don’t you think you should share food with your adorable little sister like a decent human being?!”

“No.”

“Raquel! Shannon’s being mean to me!”

Raquel sighed. “All right, all right… you can have mine, Pacifica. Now dry those tears and stop choking your older brother.”

It had been a week since they’d arrived, but Winia still found the Casulls strangely interesting. Was it because she was an only child? Maybe the Casulls were normal, and Winia just didn’t know what an average family was like?

Still, she had difficulty believing that when she saw things like Pacifica attacking Shannon with her spoon, and Shannon effortlessly parrying her efforts while drinking his juice.

Several figures stood quietly in the dark. There were four of them… possibly, but it was difficult to tell. They were so nearly identical; it was hard to distinguish them.

Hair, height, clothing—the men’s appearances had been stripped of any trace of individuality; standing in a line, they looked like a series of reflections created by two parallel mirrors. Only a close examination of their varying facial features could prove that the figures were flesh and blood.

“Listen, Purgers.”

A white light cut across the darkness.

The men—Purgers, with no individual names to distinguish them—turned in a synchronized, precise motion. The light was terribly bright, but the men faced it head-on, their gazes unflinching. They stared expressionlessly at the person who stood inside that light.

“I give you your next mission,” the figure said quietly. In the brilliance that surrounded him, only the outline of his body was visible. He was not just beautiful; the lines that formed his shape were powerful, even elegant.

“In the name of our Lord Mauser, purify the cursed souls.”

The Purgers showed the lit figure no expressions. They stirred slightly, like pulled arrows quivering in aim of a target.

“The cursed soul is known as Pacifica. The Scrapped Princess, Pacifica Casull.”

The men’s faces remained emotionless. They had no response to the order, as they had no response to anything in their lives. They were created to have faith—they lived for faith, died for faith, and considered anything else to be impure. They had the ability to penetrate any obstacle and “purify” an assigned, unquestioned target, but in exchange for this ability, they had given up their humanity.

“Go.”

After bowing in one perfectly coordinated motion, the Purgers vanished. Nothing more than killing machines, the only thing that remained human about them was their appearance. They showed neither hesitation nor curiosity.

Even if, on the shadow behind the figure before them, lay the outline of a mammoth pair of wings.

“Winia! Hey, Winia!”

Winia looked up from the stack of towels in her hands. Pacifica bounded catlike across the room and tugged playfully at Winia’s apron.

“Let’s go out on the town!” the younger girl exclaimed. “You can show me the best tourist spots, right? And I want to see all your favorite stores!”

“What? Oh, but I have to…” Winia hesitated. Even at her small inn there were many chores to be done; before the day ended she knew she had to wash the sheets and curtains, prepare dinner, and do a few minor repair jobs. But more than that, Winia was surprised that someone she barely knew would take such an enthusiastic interest in her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like people. It was just that during the seventeen years she’d been alive, she’d learned that things were much easier if she kept others at a distance.

Pacifica must have noticed her discomfort, because she backed off.

“I’m sorry. I’m being too pushy.” The girl smiled apologetically. “I didn’t think of your schedule.”

Winia blinked. She hadn’t expected the change in attitude—her impression of Pacifica was based entirely on the obnoxious way she treated her brother. It made Winia feel guilty for rejecting her.

“No, I’m sorry. I mean, I wish I could show you around, but the season’s changing soon and I need to pull the sheets and curtains and do all the laundry. I just don’t have the time.”

“Oh?” Pacifica asked, her smile turning sly. “Well, you can leave all that for someone else to do.”

“Someone else?”

Pacifica pointed across the room at Shannon, who had just looked up from his meal to see what she was talking about.

He choked on his tea.

“A-are you serious?” Shannon managed to splutter. “You’re actually telling me to do laundry?

“Yup.” Pacifica seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.

“You can’t… you must be… argh!” Shannon ranted. Angrily, he folded his arms and looked to the wall.

“There’s no way I’m gonna get out of this, is there?” he asked after a moment.

“Nope!”

He sighed. “Fine,” he muttered. “Just take Raquel with you so she can’t try to help me.”

“You really don’t have to—” Winia tried to protest, but Pacifica had already run gleefully past her and up the stairs.

“I guess I’ll start with the laundry. The sheets, curtains, and pillowcases need to be done, right?” Shannon turned his dark eyes to Winia. “You can show me how to make up the rooms when you get back.”

Winia paled slightly. “I-I can’t have you do that,” she murmured. “You’re a guest.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not worth arguing with Pacifica when she’s like this—it could take hours, and I’d still end up doing laundry.” He gave the girl a half smile. “Besides, I should probably work off that discount you gave us.”

Winia frowned. “Well… all right. And we’ll, um, take Raquel with us?”

Shannon grimaced. “Yeah. I’d rather we didn’t blow up your inn.”

Winia figured it was better not to ask.

The main street of the city of Taurus was lined with interesting shops. Pacifica, Winia, and Raquel had gravitated toward one of the biggest: a general store that advertised itself as the largest in town. The walls were lined with everything from household goods to souvenirs. Years ago it would have been strange to find such a large store outside of the capital, but the recent years of peace and prosperity had been good for trade.

“Ooh!”

Raquel’s hand shot out to grab something off the shelf—something that turned out to be a poorly made kitten doll in a mug.

“Isn’t this just the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?” Raquel cooed as she thrust the grotesque cat at Pacifica and Winia. Before either of them could respond, she’d moved on to another shelf.

“It’s so pretty!” she exclaimed as she wrapped a yellow scarf around her head and inspected her reflection. Her attention fell on something shiny and she was off again, inspecting a shelf of porcelain figurines with squeals of delight.

“Um… is this normal?” Winia whispered to Pacifica. She tried not to sound as disturbed as she felt.

“Pretty much,” Pacifica replied. “Raquel loves crap like this.” She looked over at her sister, who had frantically begun digging through a box of assorted knick-knacks. “I think she’s gonna be awhile. Let’s go outside.”

Winia nodded. Pacifica yelled goodbye to Raquel as they left, and Raquel waved a dismissive hand as the two younger girls headed out.

A fruit juice stand stood across the street from the store. Pacifica gave it a measuring glance, and the vendor seemed to notice.

“Young lady!” he called with a welcoming smile. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Pacifica beamed. She practically skipped up to the vendor; Winia was starting to think the younger girl thrived on any sort of attention.

“I’m just passing through, sir. I figured I’d take the day and see the sights.” Pacifica smiled charmingly at the man, then made a show of looking over the list of flavors. “Wow, these all sound really good. My friend and I will have whatever you recommend.”

“Why, everything I sell is good!” the man said with a laugh.

Winia felt a pang of jealousy as Pacifica bantered with the juice seller. She’d lived in that town for years and had passed that stall a hundred times, but she wouldn’t feel comfortable exchanging more than a few words with the man. Yet Pacifica, who’d barely been in town a week, could effortlessly treat a perfect stranger like he was an old friend.

The man handed Pacifica two cups of fresh apple juice, each with a large dollop of cream. “A little something extra for the young lady,” he said with a wink. “Be sure to stop by next time you’re in town!”

Pacifica thanked him, then made her way to a nearby bench. Winia sat down beside her and looked into her cup.

“So my sister’s weird, isn’t she?”

Winia blinked. She looked up from the murky depths of thick cream and apple juice.

“What was that?” she asked.

“She seems really mature until she opens her mouth,” Pacifica explained. The girl’s eyes were locked on the shop across the street, where a silhouette in the window that looked suspiciously like Raquel waved its arms excitedly and knocked something off a shelf.

The exact same thing could be said of Pacifica, but Winia thought pointing that out would be extremely rude. She made a noncommittal noise and took a sip of her juice instead.

“I think it’s nice,” Winia said after a moment. “It’s nice that little things can make her happy.”

Pacifica shrugged. “Well, she’s always really liked collecting stuff. Back home, her room was so full of random junk that there was barely room for her bed. She loved all of it, too. She’d come home with a shiny rock or a cheap figurine and treat it like it was made of gold.”

Pacifica smiled at the memory. Then, slowly, the smile melted from her face.

Winia frowned in confusion. What’s wrong with her? she wondered.

Pacifica cleared her throat. “You know,” she murmured after a moment, “when we set out on our travels, Raquel had to get rid of all her stuff. So I guess I can’t blame her for getting excited.” She looked down into her juice, her gaze oddly distant.

Curiosity got the better of Winia. “Um, Pacifica?” she began tentatively. “I was wondering… why are you and your siblings traveling?” She’d already noticed that they didn’t act like tourists, and they didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry. They’d been in town for an entire week and hadn’t done much of anything.

Pacifica looked up. “Do you really want to know?” she asked, more seriously than Winia had expected.

“I-I don’t mean to pry,” she quickly explained. “It’s just… it’s habit for me to try to get to know my guests’ backgrounds. At an inn like mine, we tend to have guests who are running away from something.”

Naturally after hearing this, Pacifica’s demeanor changed, which only heightened Winia’s curiosity.

“Like debt collectors,” Winia offered. “Some people leave home because they can’t pay their debts. They stay at my inn because they think they can take advantage of me and leave without paying.” As she suddenly realized what she was saying, Winia turned bright red. “Not that I think you’re one of those people!” she quickly added. “I mean, you paid in advance, anyway.”

“No, I know what you mean. It must be tough running a place like that.”

“I’m used to it.”

“I can see why you’d want to know your guests’ backgrounds.”

“But… I don’t want to meddle in your private affairs. It was rude of me to ask.”

Pacifica flashed Winia a mischievous grin. “If you stop acting like I’m gonna bite your head off,” she murmured, “then maybe I’ll tell you.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Winia stammered.

Winia hadn’t always been so antisocial. She could remember a time when she’d been able to open herself up to another person, even if only a little. But it had been a long time ago . .. and he had gone away, leaving her behind.

Trusting others was too painful. Winia wasn’t sure she ever wanted to try it again.

“Well?” Pacifica was still smiling, but her expression had softened. “What’s it gonna be, Winia?”

Looking into Pacifica’s clear gaze, Winia felt her resolve weakening. She hesitated a moment.

Finally, she swallowed. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’d, um… like to hear your story, Pacifica.”

A very thin layer of some invisible weight seemed to lift off Winia’s shoulders. She smiled clumsily at her achievement.

That wasn’t so bad, she thought.

Pacifica took a long drink of juice before wiping her ‘ mouth with her hand. “It’s a long story,” she admitted. “But the reason we left home is… well, it’s because of me.”

Winia looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s better if I don’t stay in one place for too long.” Pacifica spoke casually, even though a mature edge nipped at the tone in her voice.

Winia wondered what Pacifica could have done to be forced out of her home. Most people, particularly those who lived far from the big cities, spent their entire lives in their birth towns. Few businesses hired strangers, and the areas between towns were filled with dangerous wilderness and bandits. In some of the more isolated towns, banishment was equivalent to a death sentence.

“It’s my fault that we lost everything,” Pacifica continued quietly. “Raquel and Shannon lost their friends and their home… and it was all because of me.”

Winia frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Well…” Pacifica paused, as if unsure of what to say next.

“The reason,” a voice declared from behind them, “is because your very existence is forbidden.”

The two girls whipped around. Four men stood nearby, their still, dark forms a marked contrast from the pleasant bustle of the busy street.

The four men all wore short hair and gray overcoats. Although their facial features were dissimilar, each had the same blank expression and stood in the same stiff manner. Something about them was almost puppet-like, lined up as if some outside force had put them there.

The four men started toward Pacifica. They walked completely in unison, and in one coordinated motion pulled something metallic out of their pockets.

“Winia,” Pacifica whispered. “Run away. Now.”

She sounded nervous, but Winia was surprised she didn’t hear any hesitation in Pacifica’s voice. Whoever these people were, she was expecting them.

“Wh-what?” Winia stuttered. “What’s going on?”

The men moved slowly through the crowd. No one but Pacifica and Winia seemed to notice them.

“Hurry!” Pacifica insisted, pushing Winia toward the road. “If you run, they won’t follow you. Don’t stay here and get hurt!”

“But—”

The objects in the men’s hands glistened in the sunlight. Winia could see them more clearly now: weapons, all of them, shaped like two bound metal crescents, sharpened and deadly.

“Purge.” It was impossible to tell which man had spoken, but all four of them raised their blades.

“No!” Winia’s confusion turned to fear, but she could not run. She couldn’t leave Pacifica. “No! G-go away!”

The blades flew through the air. Winia covered her head and screamed.

“Wall, defend!”

A group of shining geometric patterns shielded the girls; the weapons’ curved blades cracked against the barrier and clattered to the ground.

The surrounding townspeople, finally noticing the face-off, dispersed.

In the doorway stood a tall sorcerer, her raven hair swept back by the wind, her arm outstretched in a powerful stance. Unfortunately, her dazed smile and the overflowing shopping bags seemed to minimize the impact of the image.

“Raquel!” Pacifica cried in relief.

“What do you want with my sister?” Raquel called. Her tone was calm, almost amused. “You’re Purgers; am I right?”

The men simply reached into their pockets and drew four more curved blades.

Raquel didn’t give them the chance to attack again. Her hand still outstretched, she immediately cast a spell.

“People of the flames, dance!”

A huge explosion rocked the street. The people who hadn’t yet left the area screamed and dove for cover. A thick blanket of dust and smoke filled the air, blinding Winia and causing her to double over in a coughing fit.

“Pacifica!” an urgent voice whispered nearby. “Winia!” A moment later, Raquel appeared out of the smoke.

Winia choked down the thick air and blinked her watery eyes. Pacifica appeared from another direction, her face lighting up when she saw her sister.

“Do you think you got them?’’ Pacifica asked.

“It would take a lot more than that to defeat the Purgers.” Raquel pondered something for a moment, then glanced back in the direction of her enemies. Her lips pursed and she almost frowned.

“I’ve never fought one before. If what I’ve heard is true, I’m no match for them. We should go back to Shannon.”

Pacifica nodded. She and Raquel began to run, practically dragging Winia behind them.

“I can’t believe this,” Shannon complained for the twentieth or thirtieth time that afternoon.

He knelt next to the inn’s washing basin, his arms soaked to the elbows in soapy water. He’d managed to get most of the washing done in a timely fashion, but that didn’t make him feel much better. He rubbed more soap into the sheet in his hands.

“What is this, gravy? Who gets this stuff on their sheets? Dammit, it’s not coming out,” he muttered to himself as he scrubbed the offending sheet, completely absorbed in the task.

At least Raquel had agreed to go with the girls and therefore couldn’t offer “helpful” suggestions for the tough stains he encountered. He very much admired his sister’s capacity for magic, but she had a tendency to rely on it even for the most menial of tasks.

Shannon shuddered. Raquel knew too many fire spells to try and apply magic to housework.

“You’d make a fine housewife,” someone commented from behind him.

“Don’t start,” Shannon muttered without turning around.

Shannon was very careful to contain his surprise. He hadn’t even sensed that anyone was there, but he doubted it was an enemy, since anyone who could sneak up behind him wouldn’t announce their presence prior to killing him. But he wasn’t about to risk his life on that assumption. He rose and turned cautiously, his hand barely tilted toward the hilt of his sword.

“What the…?”

Standing across the room was a young, beautiful girl. She seemed no older than ten years old, but her poised stance belied her youthful appearance. Her blue hair, tied in a purple ribbon, reached all the way to her feet, and her amethyst eyes stared off into infinity.

“Shannon Casull,” the girl intoned. “One of the Casull Guardian siblings. I wondered what you would be like.” Although her expression didn’t change, Shannon thought he saw a flicker of life in her eyes as she added, “My predictions never included the apron.”

Shannon scowled.

“Don’t be angry,” the girl said. “It almost suits you. You’re more attractive than I’d expected.”

Shannon quickly pulled off the offending garment and gave the girl a calculating look. After a moment, he murmured, “What’s with the little-girl facade?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re right in front of me, but I don’t feel your presence at all. I don’t know if you were created by optic phantom magic or psychological illusion magic, but you’re just an image. You could look like anything.”

The image shrugged its shoulders. “You’re right,” she consented. “This appearance was chosen for me. But that’s not important now.” She leveled her empty gaze at Shannon. “I came here today to warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“A new group of assassins sent by the Mauser Church is approaching. Your sister was attacked just a few moments ago.”

Shannon’s eyes stayed locked on the girl.

“You don’t seem concerned,” she commented. “Aren’t you worried about your sister?”

“No—Raquel’s with her. If Pacifica had been killed, Raquel would’ve burned this town to ashes.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who or what you are, will you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Shannon Casull, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’m on your side.” The girl paused for a moment as if in thought. “I will tell you my name, though. You can call me Arfi.”

“…Arfi?”

“It’s short for something. Don’t forget it.”

With that, the girl’s image wavered before shattering into tiny fragments. The remaining pieces then vanished into thin air.

Shannon scratched the back of his head in confusion and looked back to his washbasin. Now, the notion of continuing the chore was even more ridiculous than it was before.

Man, he thought. What the hell was that all about?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his sisters arriving downstairs.

Winia stood to one side as Shannon, Raquel, and Pacifica hurriedly packed their belongings. She was amazed at how quickly their room could be packed up; they’d obviously done this before.

Winia’s heart tore at the sight. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live on the run, never making friends or even finding a place to call home.

“I’m sorry I got you involved in this mess,” Pacifica sighed as she shoved her last bundle of clothes in a large sack. “I know it was stupid, but I kept thinking about how nice it would be to settle down and live a normal life here. I know I was just kidding myself, but…” She trailed off, her eyes downcast.

Winia frowned. “Pacifica…”

“But don’t worry. Once we’re gone, you won’t be in any more danger, Winia.” Pacifica tilted her head up, her face contorted into an imitation of her old smile.

Winia hesitated. Escaping those men in town had been a terrifying experience. But now a similar panic gripped her as she realized she’d never see her friend again. Pacifica would walk out the door, and nothing would remain except insubstantial memories.

The last few days had been some of the best Winia could remember. After so many years of closing herself off, she had actually let herself think that she could have real friends, people who cared for her and whom she could care for in return. She couldn’t bear to have them taken away so soon.

“Um… I…”

Winia tried to think of something to say, anything that might keep the Casulls from leaving. But her words failed her like they always did.

Shannon suddenly looked up from his packing.

“Dammit.’’ He turned to Raquel. “They’re here. Take Pacifica and Winia and hide them in the kitchen.” He grabbed his sword and flew out of the room.

A moment later, the sound of shattering glass rang through the Big Bear Inn.

The four Purgers landed in the dining room amid fragments of the broken window. Immediately, they spotted Shannon by the far wall, and in one motion threw their curved blades.

The four speeding blades were impossible to block with a single sword. Shannon yanked a linen tablecloth from a nearby table and swung it in front of him. The cloth intercepted the blades, knocking them down to the ground.

“Great,” he muttered. “I just washed that.” He tossed the tablecloth aside as the Purgers moved in for another attack.

The four men surrounded Shannon in a semicircle, each with two more blades in their hands. Shannon recognized the weapons as double moon blades, a type of weapon favored by assassins since they were useful for both close combat and long-range attacks. Although their close range was far less than that of Shannon’s sword, the inn’s small quarters turned this flaw into an advantage—Shannon didn’t have enough room to swing his sword properly, but the Purgers could do substantial damage by simply holding a blade and punching him.

The four men attacked simultaneously. Shannon twisted awkwardly and managed to either avoid or block most of the attacks, that is, except one. A blade skimmed his face, leaving a bleeding gash in its wake.

“Dammit…” Shannon staggered, dodging a blow while thwarting two more with his sword. The four men all had the same attack style, the same accuracy, and even the same power behind their blows. The attacks were becoming predictable, but he couldn’t keep up when they came from all four directions. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

“So this is… what Purgers are like,” Shannon panted between parries. “Boring… and cheap.”

As the attacks continued ceaselessly, Shannon lost track of his minor injuries. He overshot a dodge and mistimed a duck. None of the wounds were serious, but he worried about his endurance. He couldn’t continue to dodge indefinitely, and the loss of blood would begin to weaken him.

Now what? he wondered as the four men blurred in his eyes.

Winia choked back a scream as she watched the fight from a tiny gap in the kitchen door. Shannon staggered backward, his clothes stained scarlet.

As the Purgers closed in around him, they began to speak in a low chant. It sounded almost like a religious ceremony.

“We, who have become one…”

“…who have forged absolute bonds through faith.”

“We dedicate this man’s death…”

“…to our all-powerful Lord Mauser.”

In a moment of terror, the Purgers’ words pierced Winia’s heart.

An absolute bond.

A bond that no one could break.

A relationship without betrayal, without loneliness, without despair…

Winia exhaled desperately. The sight of those men having complete faith in each other almost made her jealous. A twisted longing pulled in her chest.

“You call… that a bond?”

Shannon’s voice rose, overwhelming the conflicting feelings within Winia. With blood rushing in her ears, Winia focused back on him.

Shannon’s steps were shaky, but his gaze was hard. He spat blood and glared at the Purgers before him.

“You don’t know anything,” he growled. He seemed to somehow get better as he spoke, as though drawing strength from some untapped reserve. “You may act the same and read each other’s thoughts… but you have no idea what makes a real connection!”

Winia froze. Gazing at Shannon’s severe profile, Winia had the mistaken impression that his words were aimed at her. She shrank back and trembled.

Shannon suddenly charged the nearest Purger. The man managed to block Shannon’s sword, but couldn’t stop Shannon’s momentum—Shannon slammed the Purger against the wall, knocking him senseless.

The move left Shannon’s back wide open. The three remaining Purgers lunged for a final blow.

“Now you’re hers!” Shannon shouted as he suddenly dropped to the floor. The Purgers swung their blades in vain as Shannon rolled clear.

That was when Raquel’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

“Lightning hammer, strike!”

The spell she’d been preparing burst through the wall, slamming squarely into the assassins.

Pacifica shoved her last bag in the back of the carriage. She dusted her hands and sent Winia a faint smile.

“Thanks for everything this week,” she said, a quiet sadness lingering in her voice. “I really had a lot of fun.”

Winia swallowed hard as Pacifica gripped the side of the couch to climb in. Her mind clung onto the image of Pacifica, trying to preserve it as a memory… but Winia didn’t want it to be a memory. Not yet.

She had to do something.

Don’t let them go! You can’t let them get away!

It had been a long week for Winia, and she felt as if she were changing. She was ready to do things she’d never dared to do before.

“W-wait,” Winia blurted out.

The three siblings turned to her. They blinked when Winia made a sudden, manic grin.

“You don’t think I’ll really just let you go now, do you?” Winia clenched her shaking fists in odd determination.

“Um…” Shannon looked taken aback. “If we stay, we’ll just bring more trouble to your town. We have to go before—”

“You can’t just leave this mess!” Winia gestured toward what was left of her inn.

Raquel’s final attack spell had blown not only through the kitchen wall, but also straight through to the outside; the entire section of the structure had nearly collapsed.

“W-we’re really sorry, but—”

“You have to pay for this, Mister Casull. The Big Bear Inn can’t open for business in this shape.”

“…We don’t really have the money for—”

“If you don’t have enough, you can get a job to save up. I won’t let you leave until you pay this off!”

“But the assassins—”

“No excuses!” Winia thrust out a fist. “This inn is my livelihood. If you leave it like this, it will kill me.”

The three siblings stared at her, obviously stunned by her outburst.

“Winia,” Shannon managed to say. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“You can stay here until you pay me back, and I’ll only charge you actual expenses. Get a job and earn enough to pay for the repairs. Do you understand?”

“But…”

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

“…Yes.”

The three siblings hung their heads.

And that was how Shannon, Raquel, and Pacifica came to stay in the town of Taurus a little longer than expected.