Seiyad blindly reached out toward the direction of the sound. His fingertips brushed against something. It radiated a warmth distinctly different from his own body temperature. Without knowing what he had grabbed, Seiyad pulled the warmth toward him. Whoever was dragged by the brute force that far exceeded that of a human didn’t resist him.
“I’m going to check your wounds, so stay still.”
The person’s tone wasn’t exactly gentle, but the voice itself was warm. It wasn’t Aster. It was subtly different from his. Unlike Aster’s voice, bright and clear like the midday sun, this one was quieter, calmer.
It didn’t matter who it was.
Regardless of the owner, Seiyad needed this warmth right now. Letting the voice fade in and out of one ear, he gripped tightly, determined to hold on to the heat. His fingers curled tightly around the person he had caught, trapping them in his grasp. A stifled grunt escaped from the other. But that was all. Swallowing a short groan, the person allowed Seiyad to hold them close.
As the warmth lingered around his body for a while, his mind slowly began to clear. The hand that had been touching his back moved lower, lingering near his thigh, where Vetria’s vines had pierced him. Despite the hesitant, careful movements, Seiyad could hear something like a short curse being muttered through clenched teeth—completely at odds with the serene voice from before.
Forcing open his crusted eyelids, Seiyad blinked against the sting of dryness and saw a blurred view. A soft crimson glow was spreading beside his head. Judging by the faint heat, someone had lit a fire.
Slowly lowering his gaze, he finally looked at what he was holding. What had seemed like an illusion of warmth turned out to be real. From the round crown of the head, soft hair came into view. Slightly wavy black strands fell messily over a pale forehead, and below that, a prominent brow bone. Long, delicate lashes curved upward—rarely seen in such length.
Looks like Ressas.
Even though he knew it was the least likely person to be here, the resemblance to Ressas kept flashing through his mind. The lookalike seemed tense, unsure how to treat Seiyad’s injuries. Seiyad, watching the fingers hesitantly brush against the hardened thigh muscle only to flinch and retreat, finally opened his lips.
“Leave it.”
Even to his own ears, the cracked voice sounded terrible. Perhaps startled by the low, grating tone that made him sound like a beast, the other lifted their head abruptly. Their wide purple eyes met his gaze. Under the crimson light, their eyes looked as if they had been crying—reddened and puffy.
“…Prince Ressas.”
Unless this was some cruel trick of the Devil, then the person in front of him truly was Ressas. As if confirming he’d guessed correctly, Ressas flinched at Seiyad’s words and pulled his hand back from the thigh. At the same moment, Seiyad also let go of Ressas from his embrace. Ressas quickly averted his eyes and stepped back.
“…Why are you here?”
Seiyad asked sincerely, unable to understand. If it had been Duke Bridehit or Aster accompanied by knights, that would be one thing—but Ressas had no reason to be here.
At Seiyad’s question, Ressas bit his lip hard. His lips turned stark white, as if all the blood had drained from them, making Seiyad wonder if they might break open. Just when that thought crossed his mind, Ressas spoke.
“Do you know how many days you’ve been gone?”
Seiyad slowly opened his eyes again, which were threatening to close once more, and tried to count. The only thing he could recall was that night.
“Roughly a day, I’d say.”
“No. It’s been three days.”
Ressas’s voice sounded deeply conflicted. It trembled as if from anger—or perhaps from shock.
“Duke Bridehit formed a search party to find you. Several knights are combing the area during the day.”
It sounded foreign. That someone had gone out of their way to search for him was hard to believe. Was this the cost of letting a man who should have died walk away alive? But…
His headache was too intense to think it through. No sooner had his senses returned than the pain came crashing down again, stabbing through his skull. He gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow. Ressas’s eyes wavered violently at the sight, but Seiyad couldn’t see it—he just took a sharp, ragged breath. Now that sensation had returned, the pain across his entire body was intolerably vivid, and the rippling force that had sunk with his consciousness began to stir again.
“…You said you came in a group. Then why are you alone, Your Highness?”
Seiyad was glad Ressas had found him, but in his current state, having Ressas nearby was dangerous. There was a high risk he might get hurt. The power thrashing inside him was beginning to morph into a destructive craving to break anything in its path.
“We had… a disagreement, that’s all.”
Ressas responded in a deliberately subdued voice. Seiyad didn’t know what kind of clash it was, but it seemed the prince had once again been stubborn.
“I’m grateful that you came looking for me… but you should go. I’ll make my way out alone. Please, leave.”
His fingers trembled against his will, but he clenched them tightly to suppress it. At Seiyad’s firm dismissal, Ressas’s face turned pale. Glaring at him with eyes full of anguish, Ressas shook his head.
“And how exactly is someone who was unconscious just moments ago, holed up in this place without even lighting a fire, going to get out of this forest alone?”
It was a fair point, but Seiyad had no room for debate. While his consciousness was intact for now, it was only a matter of time before it wasn’t. To someone like Ressas, Tither was deadly just by being nearby—especially now, when Seiyad’s control over his power was so fragile.
“Your Highness.”
The shadows on the ground, flickering along with the small fire, began to rise—sharp, jagged.
As if they wanted nothing more than to tear apart the young man standing in front of Seiyad.
“You must leave. Now.”
“If you stay here alone like this, you’ll freeze to death.”
“I told you to leave, clearly—”
The shadow, breaking free from Seiyad’s will, cut off its master’s words and shot up from the ground with a whip-like motion. To protect Ressas from the shadow that lunged as if to devour him, Seiyad forced his unresponsive body upright and shoved him away.
“I said, I’ll do it!”
As Ressas was pushed back, the sharp tip of the shadow, flaring up like a seizure, pierced the wall with a loud crack and then vanished. Breathing harshly, Seiyad shouted with a feral expression.
“You’re not my Guide. Don’t you get it? There’s no use for you here. If you don’t want to die a meaningless death, get out. Now!”
He snapped with raw fury, his words cutting with deliberate cruelty. But instead of flinching at the shadow’s threat, Ressas stood frozen, his pale face stiffening at Seiyad’s outburst. His violet eyes shook in chaos, shattered like glass.
Just like back then—when Seiyad had cast him aside.
He stood there like an abandoned dog, staring up at him, pitiful and lost. His reddened eyes looked ready to spill tears, but he didn’t even lash back. That silent resignation rekindled a guilt Seiyad had long forgotten.
He knew the words were more than blunt—they were cruel. And yet he hadn’t expected Ressas, who’d already tired of him long ago, to look at him with such eyes. The shadows, sensing Seiyad’s inner turmoil, rippled violently around him.
“…I told you I’d become your Guide.”
Ressas didn’t look away. He stood firm, teeth clenched, and spoke.
“Maybe that time is now.”
“No. It’s not.”
Not yet. Until he met Zion Shildras, Ressas wouldn’t be granted the key to becoming a Guide.
“Why not?”
He couldn’t explain that part. Not yet.
“If it were something that could happen just because you willed it, it would’ve happened long ago.”
“You said it would happen soon. Were you lying to me? Are you trying to manipulate me again?”
“Ressas.”
Seiyad struggled to suppress the surging waves inside him that threatened to burst free. He called his name the way he had in their childhood. Ressas blinked, surprised, and Seiyad didn’t notice the way his pale cheeks flushed with startled confusion.
“Go.”
He had no strength left to be formal. Just like back then—he spoke to him as he had when they were boys.
“Or else you’ll—”
He couldn’t finish the sentence. A fit of coughing tore through him, and the world went blank for a moment. In that brief instant where he lost control of the wave, the shadow moved—waiting for just such a chance.
The shadow, erupting from his figure, took a shape nearly identical to Nir’a, lunging for Ressas.
It happened in a heartbeat. Seiyad’s mind snapped back. The shadow struck. Ressas didn’t move—he stood there, whispering to him.
All of it happened in an instant.
“What I feared all my life wasn’t death.”
The childlike voice echoed in the air as the shadow raked across Ressas’s back. Crimson blood sprayed across the air. Ressas, who had been standing motionless, staggered and bent forward, and Seiyad cursed as he ran to him.
“Ressas!”
Regaining control at last, Seiyad forced the shadow to retreat. It melted back to the floor like nothing had happened, flickering again with the light of the fire. In a panic, Seiyad grabbed Ressas with rough hands. He didn’t even groan—just stared back at Seiyad, expression calm, pale from pain. And then he asked something incomprehensible.
“Will you become my Tither, Seiyad?”
It wasn’t the kind of question one would ask in a moment like this. It was pointless. Seiyad stared at the wounds on Ressas’s back with a twisted expression. Three deep gashes carved across his flesh, gruesome and torn open.
At this rate…
“I’ve waited long enough. Answer me now.”
But Ressas asked again, as though neither the wounds nor his life mattered. It was incomprehensible. Seiyad wanted to curse at him, call him a fool for asking such a thing, but he clenched his teeth and suppressed the rage and anguish boiling inside him. Then he said:
“Fine.”
A lie, empty of feeling.
A Tither could never truly belong to someone. They were creatures aligned with the kingdom, capable only of working in resonance with a Guide. If this meaningless promise would be enough to quell Ressas’s stubbornness, then he could lie as much as he needed.
What drove Seiyad mad, however, was the look on Ressas’s face the moment he heard the answer.
For a split second, he looked like a child again—something Seiyad hadn’t seen in years. There wasn’t a smile, not like the ones he showed others around him, but relief washed the pallor from his face, bringing color back into his cheeks.
And that wasn’t the only strange thing.
The raging waves inside Seiyad—suddenly, inexplicably—moved.
As if they had found their Guide.
