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The grand thoroughfare of Rakushou was alive with a fierce, vibrant energy. Paper lanterns in brilliant shades of amber and crimson stretched from rooftop to rooftop, casting a warm, dancing glow over the sea of festival-goers. The air was thick with the rich, mouth-watering scent of roasted meats, sweet red bean pastries, and spun sugar. For the first time in years, the capital of the Kou Empire didn't smell of copper, smoke, or the cold dread of an impending draft.
It smelled like peace.
Hakuryuu slowed his pace slightly, his blue eyes drifting away from the colorful stalls to settle on the man walking beside him. A soft, surprised smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He noticed, almost immediately, that Judar was completely relaxed.
Usually, even in the safety of the capital, Judar walked with a predatory, restless tension—his shoulders locked, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds for a threat that was no longer there. But tonight, the Magi was practically lounging as he walked. His posture was loose, his dark, ink-black braid swinging lazily against his lower back. He was holding a wooden skewer of grilled street food in one hand, completely absorbed in the lively atmosphere.
"You're not as guarded as usual," Hakuryuu noted softly, his voice a quiet murmur beneath the loud chatter of the festival. "When we're out in public, I mean."
Judar tore a piece of meat off the skewer with his teeth, chewing thoughtfully before tossing his head back with a careless shrug. "Even as a Magi, people always knew exactly who I was, Prince. While the sycophants in Kou and even the creeps in Al Thamen kissed my ass all the time trying to please me, most everyone else just wanted to get rid of me. Of course I've always been cautious. You don't survive by showing weakness."
Hakuryuu’s expression softened, a deep, lingering ache settling in his chest for the boy who had been raised as a weapon. He reached out, his fingers briefly brushing against Judar’s arm. "It’s not necessary anymore," he said gently. Then, a playful glint entered his eyes, and a small, teasing smile broke through his serious demeanor. "Though, you know... if we had actually managed to kill Kouen and Aladdin back then, we'd probably be ruling this place by sheer fear and military power. Everyone would have wanted us gone anyway."
Judar let out a sudden, loud crackle of laughter, shoving the rest of the street food into his mouth. "Pfft! Please. I could've fought those weaklings and protected you easily," he bragged, his red eyes flashing with a wicked, familiar spark. He leaned in closer to Hakuryuu, his voice dropping into a dark, gleeful purr. "Honestly, I would've loved to see a world like that. A world where anyone who dared to even say your name in the wrong tone would've lost their head on the spot."
Hakuryuu playfully rolled his eyes, but the warmth blooming in his chest was undeniable. Without caring about the crowded street or the passing citizens, he leaned across the small space between them and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Judar's lips.
"You have the absolute strangest way of showing that you care," Hakuryuu murmured against his skin as he pulled back, his eyes fiercely tender. "But I appreciate it deeply." He looked at Judar for a long moment, taking in the relaxed line of his jaw. "You've changed a lot, Judar. You've become much calmer in general."
"Hey!" Judar snapped, his face instantly flushing a violent crimson. He gave Hakuryuu a heavy, defensive shove that nearly sent the prince stumbling into a nearby fabric stall. "That's entirely your fault! And don't get any ideas—I won't change a single damn thing about myself, no matter what everyone else says!"
Hakuryuu just laughed, a bright, beautiful sound that was entirely free of the shadows that used to haunt him. He reached out, his hand locking firmly with Judar's, pulling the flustered Magi back to his side as they continued down the crowded path.
The illusion of their perfect, hard-won peace was absolute.
Which was why neither of them saw the flash of steel cutting through the amber lantern light.
Hakuryuu squeezed Judar’s hand tightly, intentionally ignoring a small cluster of people standing nearby. They were glaring openly, their mouths twisted as they whispered sharply to one another. Hakuryuu had been actively avoiding public appearances for almost a year after he had stepped down from being emperor. While Judar had eventually convinced him that it didn't matter what anyone thought—arguing that Hakuryuu had done more than enough to redeem himself by saving everyone's asses during the final war—Hakuryuu was still acutely aware of reality. He knew there were plenty of people in the empire who would have greatly preferred the old times, where he would have simply hung from a gallows for the crimes he had committed.
Judar glanced at the glaring onlookers, feeling a quiet sense of relief that Hakuryuu either genuinely didn't notice them or just didn't care anymore.
"I actually commissioned a larger bath for your quarters," Hakuryuu said, breaking the silence as they walked. "And I ordered some new bedding to your liking, too. It should arrive by tomorrow."
Judar’s eyes lit up, a wicked, flirtatious grin spreading across his face. "Oh? I'm flattered by the gesture, Prince. Wasting the empire's tax money on me? You shouldn't have." He nudged Hakuryuu playfully with his elbow. "Tell you what, let me go buy us something delicious from over there to make up for it."
Hakuryuu smiled softly and nodded. "Alright. I'll wait here."
Judar let go of his hand and began sauntering toward a colorful food stall a few yards away, his mind already set on whatever looked the most expensive, leaving Hakuryuu standing alone in the crowd for just a brief moment.
𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃
A woman’s piercing shriek shattered the festive hum of the street, and Judar instantly spun around.
Time seemed to freeze. Through the parting crowd, a man was violently plunging a sharp, jagged piece of steel directly into Hakuryuu’s abdomen, lifting it and ramming it back into the flesh repeatedly. The attacker was entirely unhinged, an animalistic, uncontrolled anger twisting his features into something monstrous as Hakuryuu staggered backward, his hands instinctively clutching at the dark, rapidly spreading stains on his robes.
"You bastard, what the fuck have you done?!" Judar screamed, his voice cracking with a raw, panicked fury he hadn't felt in years.
He moved instantly, throwing his body forward to shield Hakuryuu as the prince collapsed heavily onto the stone cobblestones. Nearby citizens and imperial guards finally jolted into action, throwing themselves onto the assassin and dragging him backward. The attacker breathed heavily, his chest heaving violently as countless hands pinned him flat to the ground.
Judar didn't think. He lunged over the pinned man and kicked his head hard, his bare foot striking the man's temple over and over with brutal, sickening force. "You should die! I'll tear you apart! Die!" Judar shrieked, the black rukh in his chest violently threatening to boil over.
"I don't care what you do to me!" the man shouted through the blood and dirt, his eyes wide and burning with a terrifying conviction. He spit a mouthful of blood onto the pavement, glaring up at the sky. "He deserves to die!! This traitor... he killed my father! And he crowned himself emperor! What a joke!"
The crowd fell into a stunned, horrified silence as the man screamed, his voice carrying the collective, buried grief of a broken empire.
"A murderer who would rather have his empire destroyed and its people killed just because he had some personal business with its leaders?!" the man yelled at the crowd, at the guards, and directly into Judar's face with everything he had left. "Ren Hakuryuu should die! He manipulated his own people with his foul magic and made them turn against their own brothers! I was just a kid waiting for my father to return from the war, and instead HE came back! It's unfair!"
The assassin's voice broke, tears cutting clear lines through the grime on his face. "If he can justify murder for the sake of revenge, so can I! Kill me for it, I don't care, Magi!"
Judar stared blankly as the imperial guards finally hoisted the shouting man off the stone pavement and dragged him away. The assassin’s venomous words still echoed off the festival walls, but the raw, explosive anger that had just consumed Judar vanished entirely, instantly replaced by a hollow, paralyzing numbness.
He didn't move when the medics rushed forward. He just let it happen. He did nothing. He stood entirely paralyzed as they lifted Hakuryuu’s limp, pale body onto a stretcher and raced toward the palace.
Judar’s gaze drifted down to the cobblestones. A large, dark pool of blood glistened under the amber light of the paper lanterns. He slowly raised his hands, staring at his palms. It was a cruel, sickening irony. No matter how many thousands of people he had killed across the world, no matter how much devastating power he possessed as a Magi, he was utterly useless when it came to life magic. He couldn't heal a single scratch. He had never saved anyone’s life in his entire existence.
A dark, dangerous realization began to take root in the emptiness of his mind. Maybe, Judar thought, his eyes narrowing into something cold and dead, ‘if I was born and raised only for destruction and to kill... even if I can't save Hakuryuu’s life, there is still something I can do.’ If he couldn't give life, he could certainly take it away from the person who caused this.
The festive atmosphere of the streets completely evaporated into a heavy, suffocating dread. Passersby and lingering citizens whispered sharply among themselves, keeping a wide berth as they watched the notorious Black Magi stand perfectly motionless in the center of the square for almost an hour, staring at the bloodstains.
Finally, the heavy footsteps of an armored guard broke his trance. The guard stepped into his field of vision, bowing low but keeping his voice urgent. "Lord Judar... please, we must lead you back to the palace immediately. The streets aren't safe. There could be more attackers, and the man we captured could be part of a larger rebel group."
Judar didn't answer. He didn't even look at the guard. He simply turned his back on the blood on the ground and began walking toward the palace, his mind descending into a quiet, pitch-black abyss.
𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃
When Kougyoku hurried down the dimly lit corridor, she found Judar kneeling flat on the cold stone floor directly outside the medical room.
"I'm so glad you're safe!" the young empress gasped, dropping down to wrap her arms around him in a quick, frantic hug. "What happened?"
"Some fuck-ass idiot attacked Hakuryuu right in front of me," Judar spat, violently pulling at his own dark hair in pure frustration. He slammed a fist against the floor. "Shit! I was just... I told him we shouldn't go out! People hate our guts, god knows why! So what, he had killed a few people during the war? Who the hell cares?! Hakuryuu is everything to me! And guess what? The idiot previous king wanted us all dead, not just a few! It's worse!"
"You can't say something is worse than the other, Judar," Kougyoku said gently, her eyes swimming with sorrow as she tried to calm him. "That man acted on raw grief for his father. He doesn't care about the bigger political picture or anything else."
"Well, if Hakuryuu dies, I'll go straight to his damn prison cell and rip him apart!" Judar snarled, his voice cracking as the rage failed to mask his mounting panic. "I don't give a fuck! I can't... I can't lose him. I can't."
"He will make it," Kougyoku whispered, her own voice trembling as she patted his shaking shoulders. "Please, get some sleep. There's nothing we can do right now."
But sleep was an impossibility. Hakuryuu remained behind closed doors, silently fighting for his life while the royal doctors worked frantically, their expressions completely uncertain whenever they briefly stepped out.
Hours bled together, and Judar began pacing the hallway like a caged animal. He could feel that familiar, ugly hatred pulsing violently in his chest, turning his rukh heavy and dark. For his entire life, his only answer to pain was absolute destruction. He couldn't heal, he couldn't fix things, but he could destroy. His mind snapped, and he made his decision: he was going down to the deep prison cells to tear the assassin apart piece by piece.
He lunged toward the heavy exit doors, but Kougyoku stepped directly into his path, stopping him. Judar tried to forcefully push past her, his teeth bared as he snapped that he didn't care about her "laws," her "politics," or any concept of "mercy."
Kougyoku broke down completely, refusing to move as she grabbed the heavy fabric of his robes with white-knuckled desperation.
"Do you think I don't want to kill him too?!" Kougyoku screamed, her voice echoing painfully off the stone walls. "But look at what revenge did to Hakuryuu! You saw him lose everything, Judar! He sacrificed his soul, his leg, his family—all for vengeance! And when he finally got it, he wept because it was an empty, hollow spiral that only caused more and more pain!"
She tightened her grip on his clothes, forcing him to look at her tears as she drove her words straight into his chest.
"You!" she cried, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "You were the very person who told Hakuryuu that Gyokuen was still controlling his life through his hatred! He only found true, genuine freedom when he finally let go of that anger and accepted his life—and that vital healing only happened because you were right there beside him! If you go downstairs and commit a brutal murder now out of pure vengeance, you will drag Hakuryuu’s hard-won legacy right back into the blood!"
"Shut up!" Judar yelled right back at her, his voice raw as he completely rejected the moral lesson, too terrified of losing Hakuryuu to care about his soul. He ripped his robes out of her hands and stormed away into a nearby empty waiting room, slamming the door shut.
𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃
Judar stormed toward Hakuryuu's empty chambers, locking the door behind him. He threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in the blankets that still faintly smelled of the prince. He tried to calm himself down, forcing his eyes shut as he tried to sleep. What if I go down there and do it? he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. What if he committed a murder disguised as self-justice, only for Hakuryuu to wake up and hate him for it? The thought made his chest tighten painfully.
Exhaustion eventually won, and Judar fell into a heavy, restless sleep.
But peace didn't follow. He dreamed of a silent, grey funeral. The sky was a dull, suffocating ash, and there were no lanterns, no bright festival colors. He watched from a distance as Hakuryuu’s body was slowly lowered into a deep, cold grave. The sheer absurdity and unfairness of it suffocated him. After surviving Al Thamen, fighting literal gods, and overcoming world-ending threats, Hakuryuu might actually die from a regular human's grudge. It was pathetic. It was infuriating.
Judar snapped awake, breaking into a cold sweat. The panic was gone, entirely replaced by a freezing, unyielding determination.
He slid out of the bed, his movements fluid and completely silent. Descending into the palace dungeons, he bypassed the guards easily, using a distortion of air magic to slip past them like a ghost. With a flick of his wrist, the heavy iron lock of the subterranean cell snapped, and Judar stepped inside.
He expected a fight, or at least a sniveling coward begging for mercy. Instead, the assassin was just sitting there on the cold stone. He was bruised, hollowed out, and staring blankly at the floor. When the door creaked, he slowly looked up at the terrifying Black Magi, his eyes dull and completely devoid of fear. He didn't even flinch.
"Get up and fight, you damn coward," Judar groaned, his fists clenching at his sides as his magic flared darkly around him. "You didn't seem so damn weak when you were attacking Hakuryuu!"
The man didn't move. He just looked at Judar, his voice flat and dead. "My father died blindly following his orders in a war he didn't want. Go ahead and kill me. You have no right to decide which life is worth more than the other."
Judar lunged forward, his fist crashing directly into the man’s jaw, knocking his head back against the stone wall. He hit him again and again, the sickening thud of knuckles against flesh echoing through the narrow cell.
"Fight, you damn asshole!" Judar yelled, his voice cracking with a manic, desperate fury. He grabbed the front of the man's torn shirt, shaking him violently. "Don't make this look like a damn execution! It isn't, it isn't! It's your chance to kill me too, so take it!"
The man didn't even raise his hands to defend himself. He just lay there, bleeding from his mouth, staring up at Judar with hollow eyes. "I have nothing left to lose," the man muttered, his voice entirely flat. "No other family."
He looked completely defeated, his broken posture radiating a total surrender to death. Judar stared down at him, his fist freezing in mid-air.
Suddenly, a memory flashed violently in Judar’s mind. He was back at the military base, standing in the cold, gray dawn during the civil war. He remembered watching Hakuryuu plant Zagan’s parasitic wood magic deep into the brains of the captured soldiers, combining it with Belial’s sensory powers to forcefully alter the men's memories and bend them to his will. At the time, Judar had been entirely pleased. He had been fascinated by Hakuryuu’s ruthlessness, thrilled to see his king acting like a true monster. Some of those soldiers had wept, begging Hakuryuu not to do it, screaming that they had families waiting for them back home. But Hakuryuu hadn’t hesitated for a single second.
Judar looked at the bruised face of the man before him and imagined it clearly: one of those crying soldiers at the base could have been this man’s father.
If Hakuryuu had been the one to die in a war like that, Judar knew with absolute certainty that he would have hunted down every single person responsible to take their heads. This man was doing the exact same thing.
Judar raised his hands, his magic flaring to life in a violent, jagged aura of black rukh, ready to strike and end it—but the man's words mirrored every single bit of grief, vengeance, and hollow loss that Hakuryuu himself had suffered through. It was the exact same cycle.
At the very last second, Judar stopped.
The dark magic instantly dissolved into nothingness. He lowered his hands, letting out a shaky, ragged breath, and with a swift, heavy kick, he shattered the iron chains binding the man to the wall.
"Shit," Judar muttered, his voice dropping into a ragged, trembling whisper as he stepped back. "I can't do it! I've... I've killed so many people, and I never cared. But I can't kill you!"
The man stared at him, stunned, his breath hitching as Judar violently rubbed his face, trying to erase the ghost of the black rukh that had just been ready to tear the room apart.
"You know why?!" Judar snapped, glaring down at him with bloodshot, grief-stricken eyes. "Because I understand why you did it. I'm not asking you to forgive him. I know he's a symbol of war and suffering to you. Neither of us are good people. But to me... he is the person I love, and nothing changes that. No matter what the hell he did in the past." Judar pointed tightly toward the open cell door, his arm shaking. "And you... you've already suffered enough by losing your family. Just go."
The other slowly got up from the dirt floor, his joints popping, his eyes wide as he looked from the shattered chains to the open hallway. "I'm sorry," the man whispered softly.
"Too late for that," Judar said, instantly looking away to hide the raw agony on his face. "Now leave before I change my mind."
The man stood frozen for a moment. Looking at Judar, the reality of the situation finally seemed to weigh on him. Continuing this stupid hatred wasn't going to bring his father back from the grave. And killing Hakuryuu wouldn't have brought Judar's peace back either; it would have just left another person standing over a pool of blood, entirely hollowed out.
The other looked closely at Judar's broken expression and sighed quietly. "I hope he survives," the man said. "For your sake, not his. I don't understand why you protect or defend Hakuryuu, but I see... the same person can mean something entirely different to different people. Thank you... for that."
Without another word, the man slipped past Judar and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, his footsteps fading into the distance.
Judar was left entirely alone in the dark cell. He let his back slide against the cold stone wall until he hit the floor, closing his eyes in absolute, bone-deep exhaustion.
𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃 𓈒𓏸𓈒꙳𓂃
Judar dragged his feet back up the palace stairs, every step feeling like he was pulling against lead weights. When he entered the medical room, the sharp smell of iron and medicinal herbs hit him immediately, but the frantic panic from hours before had finally settled into a quiet, heavy stillness.
He didn't say a word to the attending physicians. Physically and emotionally hollowed out, Judar simply climbed onto the edge of the large mattress, carefully avoiding the thick white bandages wrapping tightly around Hakuryuu's abdomen. He curled his body inward, pressing his forehead lightly against Hakuryuu’s uninjured shoulder. He closed his eyes, completely focusing on the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of the prince's chest, anchoring himself to the steady sound of his breathing until he finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Hours passed, the harsh moonlight giving way to the soft, pale pinks of dawn.
Hakuryuu’s eyelids fluttered, a low, weak groan escaping his throat as his senses slowly returned. The pain in his stomach was a dull, burning roar, but the warmth pressed firmly against his side was unmistakable.
"Hakuryuu..." a soft voice gasped.
He turned his head slowly, tracking the sound to find Kougyoku sitting in a chair by the bedside. Her eyes were red and puffy, but a look of profound relief washed over her face the moment she saw him looking back at her.
"You're awake," she whispered, quickly leaning forward to check his vitals. "The doctors managed to stitch the internal bleeding. They said you're going to make it."
"Judar..." Hakuryuu’s voice was barely a rough whisper, his throat incredibly dry. His eyes drifted down to the dark, tangled braid resting against his arm.
Kougyoku’s expression shifted, softening into something deeply emotional. While Judar remained completely dead to the world beside them, she leaned in close and softly explained everything that had transpired during the night. She told him about Judar’s blind rage, his descent into the dungeons to tear the assassin apart, and the cold determination that had driven him past the palace guards.
"But he didn't do it," Kougyoku murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek as she smiled. "He broke his chains, Hakuryuu. He told the man he understood his grief... and he let him go."
Hakuryuu stared at his sister, the words sinking deep into his chest. A beautiful, tired smile touched his lips, and his eyes grew fiercely bright with unshed tears.
"I'm so proud of him," Hakuryuu whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. "For being capable of forgiveness... for growing past the anger."
He looked down at the sleeping Magi beside him. With an incredibly gentle, trembling hand, Hakuryuu reached up and began slowly stroking Judar's soft, dark hair, brushing a few stray strands away from his face. Judar didn't just save a stranger's life in that cell; he had proven that they were both finally free from the vicious, bloody cycle that used to define their entire existence. They were finally allowed to heal.