Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Pitch black met Touya when he opened his eyes.

He froze, and he could feel the air rush from his lungs as panic threatened to overtake him. He closed his eyes again, both to remind himself that he could, and against the throbbing sensation in his head that decided to make itself known. With a groan, he curled in on himself against the ground. Where in Sekai was he? Deliberately taking slow breaths, Touya tried moving his legs, indescribable relief flooding him when they responded. He’d never quite gotten over his fear of the dark after his Fun Magic Coma, and he could already tell that he’d be back to square one after…whatever this was.

First, he had to…he had to. What? What was he supposed to do, immobile in his panic in a pitch-black room, lying on the floor? Think. The only thing he was good at. Calm himself down and then sit up. Which was proving harder with every second, his breathing far too loud to his ears; the only sound echoing in the complete silence. Okay, so he was thinking about the wrong things. He held his breath for a few seconds. Counting as he let it out slowly. It took several tries before he even managed it, air bursting from his lungs before he could reach ‘one.’

He opened his eyes again and took stock of himself. He was lying on his side, still curled with his knees to his chest—which he slowly undid. His arms were behind his back, and he could barely feel his hands. Attempts to move them proved fruitless. Probably handcuffed together. He used one arm to sit up, but dizziness overtook him and forced him back down the second he tried. He blinked through the pain in his head, hissing.

His eyes finally adjusted to the gloom, and he looked around properly. The room wasn’t very big, two or so metres square. Lit up faintly by moonlight streaming through a grate high on the wall, an iron door opposite it.

Oh. A cell.

…What?

He shot up, ignoring the spike of pain radiating from his temple. Oh. Oh. He remembered now. The trap.

Touya had joined the others on a few of their rescue missions in the last couple of months. Slowly gaining control of his magic. A young couple had asked for help—an escort out of their town—as they knew the knights were coming for them. Maybe they had the date wrong, or maybe someone had intentionally lied about it, but the guards were already there when they knocked on the door. They ran, grabbing the couple before escaping into the city. The guards cornered them—not unlike the first time they’d had this problem. But this time there wasn’t space to scare them off; the townspeople watching from all sides. He could only hope the young couple escaped with his friends.

They’d probably kill him for trading his freedom for their lives if he ever got out of here.

He shuffled to lean against the wall, cold instantly seeping into his back. No matter how tolerant he was to the cold, this was different. The leeching chill of a stone that had never seen the light of day. It certainly helped to wake him up, shocking the remaining lethargy from his bones.

So, he knew where he was, but not why. Could not fathom what his father could possibly want with him anymore. Not after he’d very clearly told him he had no intention of coming back. His head pulsed with every breath, probably from when he’d been knocked unconscious. A wholly unnecessary action. He knew himself well enough to understand he had no chance of fighting back against well-trained guards—and made that clear. They didn’t seem to care though, jabbing an inhibitor bolt into his arm and slamming a pommel into his head with glee. Everything else seemed to be fine, no cuts or aches anywhere bar the slight numbness from the freezing stone. And the calming presence of his magic was…

The invisible weight pressing down on his chest was…gone. Wrong. The wrong kind of force. No longer the comforting familiarity of his magic, but something completely different. A mockery. And in its place, it felt like—

A cage.

Was this what his friends had felt, those bolts blocking their magic like this? He couldn’t help but shudder. It felt so inanely wrong. Like oil seeping into his very soul and smothering him.

It hurt.

A clank rang out from the hall, and he startled, hissing in pain. Footsteps followed the sound until they stopped outside the door, pausing for a moment before bright firelight flooded his vision. He winced against it, trying to squint through the harsh light.

“Look at what you’ve done to yourself.” His father glared impassively down at him.

He couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath, and the way he instinctively straightened.

“Reduced to this, simply because of your selfishness.”

He opened his mouth to reply, croaking on the words. His throat was so dry. Licking his lips, he tried again. “What?” It was the only word he could manage.

“I gave you everything, and this is the thanks I get? A rebellious, idiotic child, too naïve to understand his own place in this world.”

Touya truly had no idea what he was getting at. He never had. Could never understand what motivated his father. He had tried. Rationalising it to himself over and over. And to some degree he understood, but at the end of the day, it was always the same response. “Why can’t you leave me alone? Let me live in peace like this. I’m not hurting you; you don’t need to think about me anymore.”

His father shook his head, unmoving, in the door. “It’s far too late for that. You are still my son. I simply wanted you to be proud to serve your kingdom, and yet you argue and fight, and ultimately turned around and betrayed us.”

“Betrayed? Because I have magic? Because of what that means for our family? About you?” Touya shook his head, blinking against the stars that sparked in his vision. “I would have been happy to ‘serve my kingdom.’ You just wouldn’t let me. I wasn’t your son. I was the Prince. And I couldn’t be anything more. It was killing me.”

“Your weakness is not my fault.”

He almost laughed at that. “Weakness? Because I couldn’t stand not being a person? Being forced to do something for so long that I lost all love for it? I already tried blaming myself. Why don’t you shoulder it this time?”

His partners seemed to have rubbed off on him. He could barely believe the words he’d just dared to say.

A barely concealed growl was his response. “I came here to extend a final olive branch, but I see you are determined to burn it. I’m sorry it—”

“Olive branch?” His voice rose into near hysterics. “All you’ve done is insult me!”

“Don’t interrupt me,” his father thundered, and Touya flinched beneath his gaze.

Neither spoke in the silence, fire flickering shadows against the walls.

The king turned around. “Goodbye, Touya.”

The door shut.

He closed his eyes.

It was taking everything in Tsukasa to not explode—himself, the castle, another person—whichever came first.

Saki’s hands in his were probably the only thing stopping him from running into the throne room and committing regicide. Though he’s not 100 percent sure Saki would be upset with him if he did—with the way she was gripping him, she might even accompany him.

He’d been excluded from the trip the king took to the north, which was strange. He’d slowly been losing command of the knights—whether that be fewer placements or duties—or actively being left out of things, like in this case. He could hazard a guess as to why, and certainly wasn’t complaining. But it still stung. He only later learnt from Saki—who learnt it from her knight, Shiho—that the trip had been to capture Touya.

And that it had worked.

How was he supposed to sit here and act normal when his brother was sitting in the dungeon only a couple hundred metres away? That had been yesterday. The entourage arrived late last night with Shiho bursting in early this morning with a stricken look on her normally stoic face. Tsukasa’s parents had taken one look at the siblings’ faces before sitting them in the drawing room, begging them not to do anything too rash right now. At least wait a few days.

A knock came from the door before it opened. Honami—Saki’s lady-in-waiting—slipped through the crack and hurried over to them. She placed a crumpled letter between them and looked around warily. “It’s from his friends.”

Saki pounced on the letter, tearing it open and turning so they could all read it.

Tenma Tsukasa and Tenma Saki.

He’s the biggest idiot we know.

The handwriting improved after that. He assumed that was Akito before one of the girls snatched it from him.

He saved our lives. We have to help him. Please help us! We’ll do anything to get him back. There’s no way we can break into the castle by ourselves. If that’s even where he is. With no info or anything we can’t do jack shit. We want to cooperate with you. And whoever you can get on our side. Please write back. Not for us.

For Touya.

You can send replies to Crase Café in Vivid Town. Address it to WEG. You know what will happen if those names get out. We’re trusting you.

Yours,

An, Akito, Kohane.

They sat in silence long after Saki let the paper drop to the table, sitting back.

“At least we have allies,” Tsukasa huffed a small laugh, “not that I’m surprised.”

“So, you’ll agree?” Honami asked, returning the letter to its envelope.

Saki jumped up. “We gotta! We need the help, and I know they all care for each other.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The more mages, the better.”

“Right.” Tsukasa nodded. “I would like more information before we reply, though. Or at least some semblance of a plan.”

“Shiho said he was in the dungeon.” Honami scrunched her face in thought. “Are we simply going to break him out?”

“Even I can’t go down there, especially right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was barred from entering.”

“So, we have to do something if they—when they move him?” Saki bit her lip.

The thought that they might just leave Touya down there to rot had him pressing bloody crescents into his palm. “They will. He’s still the king’s son, he wouldn’t…” Surely. Surely.

“That would be the best chance then,” Honami agreed. “It would be nearly impossible to get down and out of the dungeons undetected.”

“Six people isn’t really enough for something like that, right?” Saki asked. “There’ll be heaps of guards.”

“I know Shiho will help, and there’s another knight I know. They’ll be willing.” Tsukasa paced around the room. “My partners, of course, though I hesitate to put them in danger.”

Saki held out a hand as he passed, grabbing his elbow to stop him. “Ok. I’ll let Icchan know. She’d hate being left out. You go find your knight, Hona-chan can tell Shiho, and then we’ll get back to An.” She turned to Honami. “And can you deliver our letter? I don’t want to risk it with the royal mail.”

Honami was already nodding. “Of course! I’ll wait there for a response and bring it back with me. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Saki clasped her hands. “Thank you!”

“Ah, but…” Honami frowned. “How will they know who I am? They might not trust me with just the letter.”

“Ah! Here.” Tsukasa removed the golden flower from his cape. “I was wearing it when I met them, so it should prove you know me.”

Honami accepted it. “That should work. Thank you. Though, are you sure you don’t need it?”

“I won’t after basically committing treason,” he laughed dryly.

“There’s no ‘basically’ about it. If they know it was us, we—our parents—” Saki sighed, cutting herself off. “This is bigger than just saving Touya, isn’t it? We can’t go back after this.” She was unusually sombre.

“I know.” He placed a comforting hand on her head. “But we’ll be fine. I’m here, after all!”

She giggled wetly. “Yes, Sir Tsukasa.”

“That’s ‘Tsukasa, World Star’ to you!” He flicked her nose, seamlessly transitioning into wiping her eyes.

“So sorry, Tsukasa, World Star.”

Honami giggled at them. “I believe Ichika said she was visiting Nene. So you can let them both know.”

“Thank you!” Saki blew past Honami. “I’ll go get changed! See you soon.”

He and Honami sent matching exasperated yet fond looks after her. Tsukasa shouted before she disappeared, “Tell them noon tomorrow!”

Honami slipped the letter into her dress before they both exited the room.

“Good luck. And thank you, Honami. You have no obligation to do this,” he said, as they walked towards the front gate.

She shook her head. “I’d do anything for Saki—and you. And it’s not like Touya is a stranger to me. We’ve spent enough time talking astrology together that I can understand how you two feel.”

He had to swallow a lump of emotion. “You truly are a saint, Honami. Be well.”

They split at the entrance, with Honami heading towards the city while he waited for the carriage to the castle. It was something he did nearly every day, but he couldn’t help but feel a rush of fear at the thought that everyone already knew what he was planning—that it was written as clear as day on his face. The carriage wasn’t empty, and several soldiers he knew hopped on along the road. They struck up a conversation with him—the capable and confident Knight Commander. He met their enthusiasm as always, though it sounded fake even to him.

Excusing himself at the first castle stop, he jumped out of the carriage and straight into a servant. He apologised profusely and ducked around them, taking several steps before turning around and grabbing their shoulders. “Do you know where the fourth squadron would be?”

They gaped like a fish for a second before pointing towards the training yard wordlessly. They must be new.

He clapped their shoulder, yelling his thanks behind him and walking towards the inner gate. He truly hoped they were right. Tracking down one person out of the hundreds in the castle wasn’t something he enjoyed. A group of trainees ran past as he approached the courtyard, nearly knocking him off his feet and trampling his cape. He ‘hmphed’ at them, raising an eyebrow at their overseer, who shot him an apologetic look.

Shaking his head, he entered the courtyard through the side door, eyes scanning along the edges. He finally spotted his target sitting under the shadow of a pillar near the spear racks.

They looked unusually down.

“Mizuki!” he called, waving at them.

They perked up and waved half-heartedly back, turning it into a salute at the end before dropping their arm. “Commander.”

He slowed to a stop, sitting next to them. “Is something bothering you?”

Mizuki scoffed. “Is something bothering you? You look like a kicked puppy.”

“Sort of. That’s why I’m here.”

“I am the last person you wanna have a heart-to-heart with, Commander.”

“It’s about Touya.”

Mizuki stiffened minutely before deflating. “You heard.”

“I want your help.”

“With?” They raised an eyebrow. “Why me?”

“Because I can trust you?” he answered the second question first. “We are going to rescue Touya.”

They slapped a hand over his mouth, glaring before slowly motioning with their head behind them to the group of trainees in the courtyard. ‘Not here,’ they mouthed.

He cringed. He thought they were far enough away, but Mizuki didn’t seem to agree. Mizuki ushered him away and down the barracks hallway until they reached their room, ignoring every weird look shot at the Knight Commander being manhandled.

“Whose idea was this?” Mizuki flopped against the bed before straightening again, face serious.

Tsukasa stumbled; he hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Ah. Um. A…friend of Touya’s.” An did say he could recruit help, but did she want them to know who they were?

“Was it An?”

“They simply wanted—huh?” He blinked. “You…know An?”

Mizuki shrugged like they hadn’t just tilted Tsukasa’s world view. “Yeah. We’re friends. She told me ages ago about Touya living with her.”

“Oh. Wait, why didn’t you tell me!” He nearly shouted before remembering they were in the middle of the barracks.

“Why would I?” Mizuki grinned impishly. “But yeah, I’m on board. I love sticking it to the king. What’s the plan?”

“…We haven’t got that far yet. Could you come to my estate tomorrow at noon?”

Their grin dropped. “Of course you haven’t.” They stood up, grabbing the door handle and staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. “And sure, I’ll be there. We mages gotta stick together, right?” With that, they opened the door and kicked him out.

Not literally, of course, but they probably wished they could. He shook himself, looking around again in case of any eavesdroppers. Thankfully, the hallway was still clear, and the lunch bell hadn’t rung yet, so he’d be safe for a few more minutes. Saki was probably talking to Ichika and Nene right now, if she hadn’t already finished—she wasn’t the one that had to get all the way to the castle. All he needed to do now was head home to write their reply. He exhaled as if to get rid of any traces of their conversation; he was just a normal and loyal Knight Commander heading home for the day. He would never commit treason!

There were no windows in the barrack halls; too much money to invest on a wall that faced the much taller outer walls—all the light would be blocked, anyway. The sconces seemed to be placed at an odd distance, just far enough apart that there were a few steps of darkness before you hit the next torch. It always made the halls feel a little haunted. It didn’t help that there were random indents in the wall. They were supposed to provide cover for the knights outside in case of an attack, but in truth, they simply created little pockets the older knights liked to jump out of to scare trainees.

He'd almost miss this.

He began walking the way he’d come, shaking his head. No point missing something he only half liked. His footsteps echoed down the lonely hall. Quiet laughter broke through the relative silence, and he stopped on instinct. Around the corner, he could hear at least two voices whispering. Slipping into one of the indents, he closed his eyes and focused on the voices.

“—ink they’ll make it a holiday?”

“As if. He’s supposed to be all sad about this, not…celebrate, you dolt.”

“Wish it was. Then I’d get the day off.”

He hadn’t known why he had hidden himself. Something in their low voices told him he could learn something. And learning something was the only thing that could help Touya right now.

“A long weekend would be nice,” the second voice agreed—one he recognised as a high-ranking captain. “But it’s still an execution. Even the people would think that’s a bit messed up.”

Tsukasa had stopped listening—stopped breathing—at the word ‘execution.’

The conversation had changed in the second he’d been having a crisis, and he realised they were heading this way. Schooling his face, he stepped out, making his footsteps heavier as he rounded the corner. He nodded as he passed, praying every sweat-filled night of acting would pay off in this moment. “Captain.” He looked between them, committing their faces and names to memory. “Lieutenant.”

“Commander.” They nodded back casually, as if they hadn’t been discussing how to celebrate his brother’s execution.

He counted to three once they rounded the corner before letting himself deflate, giving himself a few seconds to panic before forcing himself to walk normally again. He debated turning around and letting Mizuki know right away, but that seemed suspicious to his paranoid mind.

It was his day off, and he didn’t want anyone questioning his brief visit, so he swung by his room to grab some paperwork. They wouldn’t need it after he deserted. And burning mage sighting reports was always fun.

Another carriage arrived just as he rounded the corner. He’d argue he knew the schedule well—but it was always sheer luck. Tucking the folder under his arm, he sat in the seat closest to the door, bouncing one leg. The second his house came into view, he was off. Every second he wasn’t doing anything was one his brother was suffering, so he had to move as quickly as possible. It felt that way, at least.

Honami was already in the drawing room when he arrived, blank parchment and an envelope on the table where he and Saki had sat earlier. She smiled thinly as he entered. “Good news, I hope?”

Tsukasa nodded, flopping into the other seat. “They’ll be here tomorrow. Mizuki’s reliable.”

“They have magic, I presume?” Honami fiddled with a pen.

“Pure energy—they can direct their emotions into raw magic. There’s no element attached to it, but it works much the same as wind magic, just…energy.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” she frowned. “It’s an interesting one, not that I can talk.”

He laughed. “Yes. I think some people would die if they found out you could control their heartbeats.”

Honami blushed, now rolling the pen on the table. “You always make it sound so bad.”

“It’s an amazing power! I cannot express how useful it is. Calming people down, giving them a boost in battle?” he gushed. “It’s the same problem everywhere. Sure, you could kill someone with it. But why in Sekai would you? You’re the sweetest person I know! After Saki, of course.”

Honami shook her head, embarrassed. “You say every type of magic is amazing.”

“And I’m always right!”

Saki burst in before she could retort, pouting as she spotted them. “Aww, I thought I’d get back first. Or at least second.”

Honami rushed over to her, herding Saki into the seat she had just vacated. She moved to stand next to them, but Saki dragged her to sit on the arm of the chair instead.

“I—” Honami flushed, before coughing pointedly. “Shiho will be here. Did you find Ichika and Nene?” She continued as Saki nodded. “Right. We should be able to get Touya’s friends here by midday if I leave soon. That café is in Vivid Town, so it’s a few hours’ ride. I’m just not sure how soon they can get there.”

Tsukasa grabbed the pen and paper, thinking for a moment before beginning to write.

An, Kohane, Akito.

You need not beg; we are your willing allies. Honami—the one who delivered this letter—will be our liaison. I would implore you to join us at the Tenma estate right away. Time is of the essence, and letters are too slow for our deadline. Our only chance will be Fifth-day—in three days. I don’t know much yet, but that will change. We have several allies, both within the knights and out, and they are all trusted friends and mages. We wish to meet tomorrow at noon and hope you will be there. Together, we will get Touya back.

May the wind guide you,

Tsukasa, Saki.

He signed without the usual flair, unceremoniously shoving it into the bland envelope. Saki pressed a random seal she found in a drawer to close it and handed it to Honami. They let out a collective sigh. Honami pressed a small kiss to Saki’s temple before nearly running out the door.

They could do this.

Touya was left alone after that.

He hadn’t seen anyone since. The regular tray of water and bread was the only sign that they hadn’t just forgotten about him. He had no idea what his fate was supposed to be. Was he just to be left down here? Left until he lost his mind or ‘came to his senses?’ He wouldn’t entertain any other options.

He got used to the dark—not to say he was any less scared. Every minute in the pitch black was another minute he had to fight for steady breaths. The sun never seemed to shine through the grate, only the moon, so it would be pitch black during the day and light up during the night. Using that meagre light, he mapped the room again. His headache hadn’t disappeared—gotten worse, on the contrary. He had tried to stand once after his—after the king left. It didn’t end well. The world spun far too violently to stand, let alone walk, and he’d sunk back to the floor with lights flashing across his vision. The lack of sleep and uncertain fate wasn’t doing him any favours either.

With the king’s thoughts made clear, he at least thought his mother might visit. Even dared to hope she might defend him. What was she thinking up there? Sitting prettily on her throne, with her son trapped below. Did she know? Did she even care? Or was it like everything else the king had piled onto him, with her simply standing to the side and just letting him crumble. She had never been unkind or pushed him, as the king did. A passive player in her own life—let alone in his—always going along with the king’s wishes.

It took him a while to think to inspect the cuffs, and he slipped his feet between his arms so they were in front of him. It was more comfortable, at least. He held them up, and as he feared, they weren’t normal handcuffs.

They were quite familiar—after all, he’s been using them for months. Or the modified version, at least.

These blocker rings were scarier. Rui had only handed him one—so it was more like a cuff—and it sat loosely around his wrist. But this was tight, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his skin was raw beneath. The two cuffs sat welded together, his forearms pressed flush against each other.

An had said they weren’t designed to come off. And Kohane had said why—a reason he was going to ignore.

Pointless as it was, he still tried to pry his arms apart, flinching when the cage on his magic seemed to tighten in response. He could understand why the others had hated these things and the inhibitor bolts. It was like a constant physical drain on his body and mind, with his magic fighting against its bonds despite the futility.

The bolt was created with normal mages in mind—usually lasting four to five days. He’d lost track of how long he’d been down here—it certainly hadn’t been that long—but the cage in his chest felt weaker than before. Like a layer had been stripped off; still not enough to break free, but a start. At least he assumed it was the bolt wearing off and not the cuffs simply failing. Though the cold of the metal felt different to the cold of the room and himself. He swore he could almost hear it creaking, tiny pinpricks of frost spreading over the metal where it touched his skin.

The moonlight had disappeared several hours ago when the door flung open and two soldiers walked in. He flinched at the clang of the metal door against stone, pressing himself further into the corner as if that would help.

“Get up,” one of them said, gesturing for him to stand.

He blinked, uncomprehending, at her for a moment.

She drew her short sword when he didn’t react immediately, prompting him to scramble to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall as his legs threatened to drag him down.

“We’re going. Come on, prince,” the other one spat, the two of them moving to stand on either side of the door.

He looked between them, frowning, before pushing off the wall and stumbling into the hall. He cried out in alarm as the world suddenly went dark not even two steps out the door; something shoved over his head. It was rough—hessian?—and did not help the influx of sensations attacking him. A sack. Similar to the ones he’d used alongside Kohane for storing potatoes. He couldn’t fathom a reason for the sack. They could have simply blindfolded him if they didn’t want him to see where he was being taken.

They nudged him forward with their spears as if afraid to touch him. It hurt. Not the spears—but the fact that he was somehow ‘tainted’ and couldn’t be touched.

“Where are we going?” His voice was muffled from disuse and the bag.

They didn’t reply.

He was poked and prodded down the hall, left to stumble up the stairs with no warning. The guards didn’t speak as they walked. The sun was hot when they finally reached the surface, but he had no time to appreciate it. The ground abruptly turned from stone to dirt under his feet. They stopped suddenly—the spears crossed over his chest to halt him—and he inhaled sharply. This was somehow more terrifying than the cell. At least he could see down there. Here, they could do whatever they wanted and he’d have no warning. He had no more time to think before they pushed him up another two steps into…a carriage? The floor was soft beneath his boots. They pushed him to sit, letting him fall into the seat with a thud. Wheels rumbled below him and he knew he was right. He rubbed the seat with his hands to confirm that yes; it was the pristine leather of his family’s carriage.

The guards still didn’t speak, but their shuffling told him he wasn’t alone in the carriage. They seemed to be going downhill, but whether they were heading into the town or the forest behind the castle, he had no clue. He didn’t know which one was worse. At least sitting down gave his legs the respite they needed. The trade-off was the carriage made his head throb in time with its jolts. It was another ten minutes before the gravel below changed to the rattling of stone and the ground flattened out. The town, then? The forest certainly didn’t have stone paths. Slowly, the carriage came to a stop, and they pushed him outside, left to stumble as he hit the ground. Spears hooked under his arms and shoved him forward again.

Wherever he was, it was loud. Hundreds of voices dropped to a whisper as he rounded a corner. The silent walk was unnerving when he knew people were there. They led him some 20 paces until he hit another set of stairs, stumbling, with no idea what was happening around him. At the top of the stairs, they guided him to turn, facing what he assumed to be the crowd. The sack going taught for a second was his only warning before it was ripped off, leaving him reeling. The sun was blinding after the darkness of the cell and he squinted, eyes to the ground, as he fought to stand upright against the sudden wave of dizziness, lest he actually pass out.

The silence shattered—the voices seemed shocked—did they not know who he was until then? He risked looking up as a booming voice had him straightening in fear.

“I present my son, the disgraced prince—Aoyagi Touya.”

The colour drained from his face as he stared ahead. Hundreds of people stood below him in the central square of the Castletown. He could do nothing but stand there, wide-eyed, as the king continued talking to the once-more silent crowd.

“As you all know, he disappeared several months ago, where he was picked up by a most distasteful group of mages,” the king practically spat the word ‘mages.’ “A group who infected him with magic, turning him into one of them.”

What?

What?

Where was he…going with this?

The crowd shuffled restlessly, murmuring to each other at the story being told.

“As much as it pains me to do so. I cannot make a single exception to the rule. So, let this be an example of what magic brings.” The king stepped forward, and Touya could finally see him out of the corner of his eye, regal as ever and not a trace of regret in his voice. “It will corrupt you. It will kill you from the inside, warping your very soul. And rest assured, I will find those who did this and bring justice upon them.”

His brain scrambled to register the meaning. He could hear the words perfectly fine, but he couldn’t make sense of it. Whether that was a refusal to, or the probable concussion, he couldn’t really tell.

A hand grabbed the back of his collar, forcing him to his knees before shoving him forward. He threw his hands out to catch himself, but his throat ended up taking his weight as he ran into something before he could touch the ground. He choked, instinctively pulling back from whatever he’d hit, but the hand returned and kept him there until he stopped struggling. It felt like a wooden block, sloping down where his head hung over it.

The floor—because it was a wooden stage, he finally registered—swum below him as the truth sunk in.

He was going to be executed.

Presented as an example and killed just as mercilessly as the little girl which led to the best decision of his life.

But this time, were they here to save him?

He hoped so. He hoped not.

He hoped they were far away and safe and not risking their lives for him.

He hoped they’d whisk him away this second.

The king was still speaking when he tuned back into the world around him. The crowd was deathly silent, and he could see the expressions of those closest to him. Far too many seemed happy about this. He gave himself about two seconds to process, then took a shuddering breath before schooling his face and lifting his head to stare at the crowd. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of fear. He would not beg. Would not scream or cry or say a single word.

It was scarily easy to slip back into that expressionless mask.

The quiet rasp of steel came from his left, and two black-booted feet came to stand next to him. Looking a stranger in the eye as he died seemed a little rude, so he dragged his eyes to stare over the top of the crowd at some random point in the distance. At least it was pretty today.

The sword went up. The crowd held its breath.

Something exploded in front of him.

The sword clattered to the ground and its wielder went flying over the edge of the stage. Hands dragged him to his feet, and he stumbled—whole body trembling—into someone. He pushed his hands against whoever it was, peering up at a helmeted face. One arm kept him pressed against them and the other reached up to remove the helmet.

He gazed into Tsukasa’s grinning face, still blinking stars from his vision.

“Touya! Gods, Rui took his time. I was worried for a second there.”

His legs nearly gave out then and there. Shock flittered across Tsukasa’s face as he was suddenly holding nearly all of Touya’s weight, but quickly returned to his usual confidence. Over Tsukasa’s shoulder, he could see two knights at the base of the stairs, almost single-handedly keeping the other knights away. He recognised Shiho, but not the pink-haired one.

He turned so he could look at the crowd again. Tsukasa shifted his grip, his sword levelled at the closest person. Where the explosion had been was a pillar of earth, some twenty metres from the stage. On it crouched two figures. He watched as the earth moved beneath them to form shields where needed against incoming arrows.

Kohane?

Were the others also in the crowd? Fighting against the guards for him?

They didn’t have time for him to try and find them. Again, he pushed against Tsukasa to stand on his own. Tsukasa let him but kept one hand around his bicep.

“Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I—” He nodded slowly, half turning to stare at where he’d been kneeling, and then to the other side of the stage.

The king stood behind three more guards, naked rage in his eyes, uncaring of the chaos around him.

Touya froze. Literally. His breath billowed in the air as the temperature around him suddenly dropped. The guards hastily stepped back and Tsukasa let go, wincing in pain—though his face made it obvious he didn’t want to.

It hit him all at once again as he locked eyes with the king. His father had tried to have him killed. Publicly. As an example. As a threat to his friends—to the ones he loved—and everyone they lived to help. Ice trickled down his spine, the air around him getting colder and colder with every heaving breath. A thin layer of frost formed beneath his feet and crackled over the cuffs. It hurt—cold metal burning against his skin until it reached the point it could no longer withstand.

It shattered.

Tiny pieces of brittle metal fell to the ground, and suddenly everyone was looking at him. Some with pride. Most with fear.

His magic came back in a rush, nearly taking his breath away, and he swayed on the spot. It felt like the first time he’d used it, needing to get it out before he exploded with its energy. Except this time, he could recognise the pressure for what it was. He stumbled to the front of the stage, his body moving before he even knew what he was doing. Tsukasa let him go, hovering a few steps back. The guards levelled trembling weapons at him, and even the fighting below seemed to stop as every eye turned to him.

Despite the ringing in his head, he raised a hand, palm towards the sky, and took a deep breath.

“What’s so scary about magic?” he asked, gaze sweeping over the silent crowd and voice surprisingly steady. “I have always been taught to hate magic. That it only causes harm. That mages are evil. But magic is a part of me. It always has been. And not once have I seen anyone be hurt by it. Even now, could you find a single person in this crowd with a wound that wasn’t caused by metal? It’s just another tool. And like any tool, it can hurt you. It can kill. But it can also save. It can create. It can be anything you want it to be. If you let it.”

Light burst from his hand and suddenly it was snowing in early autumn. Not like the usual snow of winter, but thousands upon thousands of tiny ice crystals, falling slowly from above him and drifting over the crowd. Most people cowered, especially the guards, but some reached out, letting the cool flakes melt and entrance them. When nothing exploded at its touch, fear was quickly overcome by awe and confusion. Most of these people had never seen magic, or only witnessed it used in self-defence, furthering their convictions. But for the first time, their prince—ex-prince—was standing in front of them, shamed, yet demonstrating something as simple as snow.

Touya finally dropped his arm, exhausted, and gentle hands pulled him off the stage before the guards could remember their job. He was tugged over the edge of the stage, away from the crowd—and towards the fighting knights. Tsukasa had a death grip on him as they approached, dragging him bodily through the gap the other two knights had made, yelling as they passed. “Five minutes! Don’t let them follow!”

The adrenaline from his magic coming back hadn’t worn off yet, so Touya willed his legs to obey his commands. Some guards tried to chase them, but Shiho and the mystery knight jumped between them, blades flashing. They ran down the closest street, and he prayed Tsukasa knew where he was going. Tsukasa didn’t slow as they ducked into side streets and turned corners, giving him no warning and leaving him off balance every time. He could hear shouting in the distance, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Finally, Tsukasa slowed to a brisk walk, looking around. He didn’t recognise the area. The likelihood of being caught was closest to the castle, so he’d never explored it. But it looked similar to the blacksmithing sector in Vivid Town.

The well caught Tsukasa’s attention, and he was once more dragged over. Tsukasa removed the well cap and peered down. He turned to him with a grimace. “Here, you’ll need to climb down. It’s not far.” Tsukasa gestured into the dark, and he recoiled. “Hey, it’s alright. They won’t catch us. I’m here.”

Touya breathed in. He hated this. With unsteady legs, he lowered himself down, refusing to look anywhere but the sky until Tsukasa landed beside him and closed the lid. He reached out blindly to grab at Tsukasa, who finally began to glow. His legs were unsteady as Tsukasa dragged him through the tunnel, the only light Tsukasa himself. They ran as fast as they dared on the slippery, moss-covered flagstones. He lost his balance on more than one occasion, but Tsukasa always tugged him upright. Tsukasa murmured under his breath every time they passed another off-shooting passage. Finally, on the sixth count, he turned, urging Touya through a small, half-collapsed hole until it suddenly widened into a large, thankfully dry, tunnel.

The moment they made it into the open tunnel, Tsukasa was running again. They were no longer in the actual waterways. This tunnel seeming to be an underground walkway for at least five people abreast to move. His body shook with every step, begging him to stop. The jolting motion was hell on his headache and made it that much harder to focus on the uneven ground in front of him. He wasn’t sure how far they’d managed to run, or where they were even going.

They’d turned several corners and lost all sense of direction when he began to flag. “I shouldn’t have done that I—” he gasped between heaving breaths; he was definitely running on fumes by now.

Tsukasa squeezed his hand in response. “Done what?” He wasn’t even breathing hard.

“I was—was already exhausted—magic—too much—” his vision blurred dangerously. “Wait, st—I can’t—” He slowed to a stop, hand slipping from Tsukasa’s grip just before his legs finally buckled beneath him.

Tsukasa caught him with a yelp, lowering him to the ground to lean against the wall. His head fell into the crook of Tsukasa’s neck and he closed his eyes as the world spun violently.

He gripped Tsukasa’s hand weakly while Tsukasa tried to squeeze the life out of his. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Tsukasa’s other hand came up to brush the back of his hair. “It was brave—and reckless, but brave. People need to learn what magic is before anything can change. I should be thanking you.” He tapped him lightly, and he could hear the grin in his voice. “But you could have chosen a more opportune time.”

Touya huffed. “Doesn’t the hero always make their grand speech after escaping death?”

“You’ve read too much.”

He closed his eyes, the world fading in and out. He could almost pretend it was just him and Tsukasa, that nothing else was happening and everything was fine.

Pounding footsteps echoed down the tunnel.

Tsukasa let him go instantly, drawing his sword. They watched with bated breath as firelight bounced off the walls and around the corner. The figure rounded the corner, torch held up—No, that wasn’t a torch.

“Akito,” Touya whispered as Tsukasa shouted the same thing.

Akito lit up—his fire burning brighter for a moment before he continued running. “Touya!” He skidded to his knees in front of him, dragging him into a hug as Tsukasa leaned back.

“You’re an idiot! The biggest gods-damned idiot in the world. I hate you.” Akito’s voice broke at the end.

Touya hugged back as hard as he could—which admittedly wasn’t very hard. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his hair.

“Don’t. I love you. Don’t you ever fucking do that again.”

He didn’t have time to process before Akito pulled away and focused on Tsukasa. “They weren’t that far behind me. We gotta go.” He looked back at him. “Can you stand?”

“I—yes.” He let Akito drag him to his feet, dizziness instantly forcing him back to his knees. “No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Akito sighed fondly, reaching down to pick him up.

He opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it and just let him, looping his arms around Akito’s neck instead. They took off down the tunnel, Tsukasa glowing a little brighter.

“The others?” he managed, squeezing his eyes shut against the jolting. He knew Akito was strong, but to carry him while running?

“Fine. Saw them—get away,” Akito replied between breaths.

That loosened some of the tension in his body. From his position, he could see behind them and thankfully could see no light, the only sound coming from the three of them. Realistically, they’d only been in the tunnels for five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime ago he’d stared death in the face. Or pointedly avoided eye contact with it. He didn’t have any time to think about what had happened, but it kept hitting him in the lulls—fresh each time—that he could have died. It’d probably keep hitting him for a while.

Blessedly, they slowed, and he uncurled slightly to look forward. He could just barely make out a ladder and he sighed in relief. Tsukasa climbed up while Akito let him stand, still taking the brunt of Touya’s weight. He tried to look up as Tsukasa removed whatever was blocking their way out, but Akito tugged his head to look away.

“Are you trying to go blind again? Don’t look at the light straight away, dumbass.”

He smiled tiredly at him. “Sorry. I hate it down here.”

“I know. We’re almost there.” Akito spoke louder as a grating sound came from above. “You’ll have to climb.”

“That’s fine.” He squinted as light flooded the tunnel and Tsukasa crowed in triumph.

“All clear!” he called down. “We’re a block from the others. Let’s hurry.”

With trembling limbs, he grabbed the rungs just above his head and pulled himself up. Akito hovered his hands just below in case he fell, and Tsukasa reached down to help. He crumpled against a wall as Akito jumped up, closing the pothole behind him. Even stopping for a moment made the vertigo worse, and he stumbled as he pushed himself up to follow Tsukasa. They didn’t quite run to wherever they were going—just fast enough to be quick—but not make any noise.

An inconspicuous storage wagon sat on the road around the corner, boxes stacked around it as if the owners were halfway through packing. It wasn’t until Saki poked her head over a crate that he realised it was theirs. She lit up as they appeared, visibly sagging.

She also had no restraint, running over, grabbing his hands, and instantly grimacing. Not the reaction he expected.

“You’re hurt.” She lifted his hands and spied his wrists, an anger he had never seen crossing her face.

He tried to loosen her grip, and upon failing, simply rested his forehead against hers. “It’s fine.”

She glared up at him through her lashes. “I’m healing it.”

“You—Saki, you don’t need—”

“I do!” she bit back, pulling away, tears gathering in her eyes. “You were alone down there for days. Let me help you. Please? I’ll be fine.”

Tsukasa clapped his shoulder lightly. “Let her. You can’t sway her when she gets like this!”

“Alright,” he relented, presenting his hands again.

She laid her hands on his raw wrists, and he flinched. She mumbled an apology as warmth seeped in where she touched him, leaving his skin unblemished when she let go.

“Thank you—” he tried, as she threw her hands around his neck.

“You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe! We were so worried we’d be too late. I’m so sorry we took so long!”

“No.” He stroked her hair. “Don’t apologise. I owe you all my life. Thank you.”

She pulled away to smile at him. “Don’t thank us yet. We’re not out of the woods yet. Or…into the woods—since we’re going to a forest—never mind! We’re waiting on your other friends and then we gotta Haul Ass.”

“Saki!” Tsukasa scolded, the soft smile he’d had watching them falling into despair. “Language!”

She giggled, leading Touya closer to the wagon. “Inside voice, Tsukasa.”

“Wh—” Tsukasa shot a pleading look at both him and Akito, who shrugged.

“You deserved that.”

“Saki!” a familiar voice called from the front of the wagon.

“All good.” Saki waved. “Come here!”

Honami rounded the corner. Someone he hadn’t expected, but it made sense she was here. “Hello, Honami.”

“Touya.” She smiled, clasping her hands to her chest. “I’m glad. Are you alright?”

He went to nod before thinking better of it and just said, “Yes.” He would not declare he was fine and then faint. “Thank you for helping. I appreciate it.”

“Of course!” She started to bow out of habit, but stopped herself, smiling shyly.

Footsteps pounded down the road, and he was shoved behind a stack of crates before he could blink, Akito and Tsukasa joining him while Saki and Honami pretended to grab another crate, eyes locked towards the sound. He couldn’t see, but judging by the way Saki and Honami relaxed, they were the two people he desperately wanted to see. He stood back up, stepping away from the crates as the two girls came closer.

They skidded to a stop in surprise upon seeing him, before redoubling their sprint.

“Ah!”

“Koha—”

Kohane slammed into him, sending them both tipping back. Akito dived to stop them from collapsing to the ground.

“Sorry!” She grimaced, righting him, before burying her head into his chest and breathing far too fast. “Thank the gods!”

He wrapped his arms around her, chin on her shoulder to look at An as she scrambled over. She threw herself over them both, Akito once again having to save them by hugging him from behind and wrapping his arms around them all.

“I’m gonna kill you when we get home,” An said wetly.

“I know.” He smiled weakly as they squished him. Being crushed wasn’t so bad if it was like this.

Kohane pushed back against An to examine him. “Are you hurt? You looked like you were about to pass out earlier.”

“Not physically. I’m just—” He breathed deeply as they let go. “Tired doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“We’ll be home soon. You have no idea how happy we are to see you.”

He laughed, some of the weight lifting from his chest. “I think I have some idea. After all, I get to feel it thrice over.”

“Alright, sap,” Akito teased.

“I think I can be a little sappy. I did just nearly—” He stopped, shaking his head to clear away that thought—completely forgetting he was not supposed to do that and listing to the side.

Six pairs of hands grabbed him and he would have laughed if he could. “Sorry,” he slurred. “Still dizzy.”

“Ok, ok.” An turned him around. “Let’s go, we’re wasting time. And you need to sit down.”

They scrambled into the wagon, Akito leading the way and Honami heading around to the horses. It was a basic cube, wood coming up half a metre on the sides before turning into a canvas roof that stretched over wooden arches to create a roof.

“Did Rui get away?” Tsukasa directed his question at Kohane as he latched the canvas closed behind him.

Kohane nodded. “I saw him off with you and Saki’s partners, and Mizuki, he’s fine.”

Tsukasa smiled; relief clear in the way his shoulders dropped. “Then that’s everyone. We all made it.”

“That’s a lot of people…” He counted mentally as he sat against the back wall.

“Treason isn’t as easy as in your books.”

“Treason?” He thought for a moment. “Ah. You’ve—yes, he certainly knew it was you. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be.” Saki sat against the wall on his right, Tsukasa joining her. “There’s no way we could live in silence under a man who would—” she cut off, shaking in anger. “It’s better this way. Our parents will be fine. And neither of us ever really liked the noble life.”

The carriage jolted and began to move, his headache doubling along with it. He sucked in a breath. An quickly sat on his left, sticking her tongue out at Akito, who frowned and sat on his right instead. Kohane pouted until An slapped her thighs, and she stretched across the three of them. She sat between Touya’s legs, her legs over An’s lap, and leaned against him and Akito.

He ignored the twin looks he was getting from the Tenmas.

They sat in tense silence for another ten minutes, no one willing to break the relative peace. It wasn’t until Honami knocked on her seat loud enough for them to hear that they moved.

“We’re clear. We just left the city.” They let out a collective sigh, the relief palpable in the air.

Her words cut through the adrenaline that had been fuelling his body and he went limp against the three of them, head falling against An’s shoulder with a sigh. They all turned to him in concern, and he smiled weakly.

“I’m alright.” The world had finally gone completely blurry, and he didn’t think he could refocus if he tried. “Everything just hit me again.”

“You’re safe.” Kohane stroked his arm.

“I’m safe,” he echoed, closing his eyes.

Soft murmurs followed him as he slipped into a comforting darkness. The last thing he heard was An scolding them to shut up, the loudest of them all.

He finally let himself sleep.