By the time the trio returned to Macaria’s apartment, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind only weariness and a lingering chill that no amount of bnkets could shake. Natsuki cradled her injured hand while Macaria helped her disinfect and wrap it in gauze. The crystalline shards from the shattered shadow sword had vanished by then, likely dissolving the moment the white-haired attacker disappeared.
Simon had already cimed the recliner in the corner of the room, slumped back with one arm slung zily over the armrest. Macaria and Natsuki shared the couch, cocooned under a thick, bck-and-white patterned bnket, their shoulders brushing in shared fatigue.
“Why did they have to show up while we were there?” Natsuki groaned, tugging the bnket up to her chin. “They had all day yesterday to do that.”
Simon tilted his head back and exhaled through his nose. “Maybe they were there yesterday. Maybe they came back to make sure there were no loose ends.”
“We were the loose ends,” Macaria said softly, pulling the bnket tighter around her legs. “Did anyone find anything useful?”
Natsuki shook her head. “No signs, no trail. They covered their tracks.”
Simon yawned and reached into the inside pocket of his coat, retrieving a small yellow pill bottle. He unscrewed the cap with one hand, popped a white tablet onto his tongue, and disappeared into the kitchen. His voice echoed back over the sound of running water.
“The magic they used? Same signature I detected the night I found you,” he called. “Identical energy patterns. No doubt in my mind—it was them.”
Macaria’s brow furrowed. “But if they were after Renley, why attack me?”
He acted strangely, Hoshiko murmured inside her head. He circled the alley, kept gncing in your direction… It felt like he knew you were there. Like he sensed you before you moved.
Simon returned, gss of water in hand. He leaned against the counter, shrugging one shoulder. “Some unknowns are highly attuned to magic, even if they don’t specialize in tracking. He might have felt the residual spike from when you first awakened your powers.”
Natsuki gnced sideways at him, brows drawn low. “How do you know all this?”
He took a long sip of water before answering. “I had to learn on my own. Neither of my adoptive parents were unknowns. The vilge I grew up in was full of normal people who were terrified of anything even remotely magical.”
Macaria tilted her head. “Wait, adoptive? I thought your mom—”
“She wasn’t,” Simon cut in. His voice dropped lower. “Not biologically. She was ordinary. Couldn’t even defend herself when someone shot her.”
A thick silence followed. The only sound was the distant hum of a passing car.
“I stopped fearing death after that,” Simon added quietly.
Natsuki sat up a little straighter. “Speak up,” she said gruffly, maybe more out of discomfort than defiance. “You’re mumbling again.”
Simon didn’t repeat himself.
Macaria shifted uneasily. “But… why me? I didn’t even see their faces the first time. Just their powers. Did I witness something I wasn’t supposed to?”
That’s possible, Hoshiko said. And don’t forget the third person—the one who created that fire orb. That wasn’t just cover. They timed it perfectly. I think the smoke was meant to obscure a quick retreat... or maybe to hide someone.
Macaria spoke the thought aloud. “So they could recover the others without being seen?”
Simon nodded. “Smart strategy, if that’s what it was.”
Macaria’s fingers brushed her sweatshirt pocket, where she felt the weight of the memory flower she had brought back. As if on cue, Hoshiko reminded her gently:
You still haven’t shown them.
Macaria blinked and pulled the flower into view.
Natsuki raised an eyebrow. “Right. You said you’d expin that.”
Simon, still leaning on the counter, turned slightly and gave her a curious look. “You were going to show us something with it, weren’t you?”
Macaria nodded, standing up and letting the bnket slide from her p. She examined the flower in her hand for a moment before frowning. “Wait… this isn’t the right one.”
She turned toward the small table near the door, where her keys, gloves, and the second memory flower sat. The dim light from the window made its surface shimmer like ice in sunlight. That was the unused one—the one that had snagged on her nyard.
Macaria traded the flowers and stood behind the couch.
Nice catch, Hoshiko said with a chuckle. I was just about to warn you. I'm proud of you.
Macaria smiled faintly. Then she held up the used flower. “You guys want to see something crazy?”
Before either could answer, she tossed it into the center of the room.
The delicate crystal shattered against the floor, and a ripple of light exploded outward. A pale blue ring etched itself into the floor around them. A glowing illusion bloomed upward—an ethereal tree formed of soft light and wind-borne petals, its trunk spiraling like gss, its branches high and trembling.
In the center of it all was her, arms wrapped around the tree, wind tugging violently at her body.
Simon’s face paled slightly. He sat forward, removing his gsses and rubbing his eyes.
Natsuki leaned forward, her breath caught as the illusion pyed out. They watched the memory unfold—how Macaria lost her grip on the branch, how she was lifted by the wind, and finally, how a hand reached into the chaos and pulled her back.
When it ended, only scattered crystal petals remained, glinting softly in the morning light.
Macaria stepped around the couch and struck a pose. “Ta-da! It’s called a memory flower. That’s what it does.”
Natsuki stared. “Where did you get that? How did it work? Who was that? And where the hell were you?”
Macaria ughed nervously. “I, uh, guess that’s a lot to unpack.”
She expined everything—how her powers weren’t hers, how the voice she’d heard belonged to Hoshiko, a wind spirit who cimed to be sent by the wind god Oakuss, and how he had no memory of why he’d come.
Natsuki kept asking rapid-fire questions Macaria couldn’t always answer.
Simon, meanwhile, rocked silently in his chair, eyes fixed on the floor where the illusion had faded.
“A spirit, huh…” he murmured, mostly to himself.
Macaria and Natsuki looked at him.
Simon finally spoke again. “Your story expins it. Spirit magic is… different. It’s older, deeper. When I first found you, the wind you used wasn’t something an unknown could’ve created. It was too pure. That’s why he noticed you, Macaria. The ice guy. He didn’t sense you—he sensed Hoshiko.”
That might be true, Hoshiko admitted. But I don’t know why they’d be after me. I don’t remember doing anything wrong.
“But why didn’t they take me when I passed out?” Macaria asked. “They had the perfect chance.”
“They may not have been ready,” Simon said. “Or maybe something about your spirit bond made it difficult. Spirits aren’t easy to extract.”
“Do you think they were from Shadow Dawn?” Natsuki asked.
“Probably,” Simon replied. “And that third one—the fire wielder—they were different. Their timing was too clean. It makes me wonder if they were expecting us.”
“What about Renley?” Macaria asked. “She was their first target.”
Simon frowned. “The fox features… I’d wager she’s a spirit too. Or a hybrid. But the magic you described doesn’t match any known spirit category.”
Macaria tilted her head. “What are the categories?”
Simon gave her a confused look. “You don’t know?”
“She’s not from here,” Natsuki cut in. “Maybe no one ever taught her.”
That stung more than Macaria expected. She lowered her gaze. “I don’t… remember my childhood. Or my parents.”
“Then listen close,” Simon said. He took a deep breath. “Short version. There were once five gods. Then nine. They each took human form to live among us, and each blessed humanity with a different elemental magic. But the shadow god thought humans were unworthy. He and his followers—Dark Followers—began a holy purge.”
“They were cast into this world known as the Fallen World,” he continued, “a world where the Shadow God and his followers were exiled to. After that, the gods created spirit servants—beings of raw mana made to protect this world. Some are guardians. Others… wander.”
He took another sip of water and walked past her, tapping her shoulder with two fingers. “Feels like just yesterday you said you knew the basics about unknowns.”
Macaria swatted his hand and tried to grab him, but he danced away with a grin.
“I hate you,” she muttered.
“I know,” he called over his shoulder, pcing his gss by the sink.
“Anyway,” he said more seriously, “the world the gods and their people reside in—Celestia—was created to protect the unknowns. Or maybe to hide the spirits. No one really agrees. But when spirits appear in this realm… it usually means something big is coming.”
So, I was sent here for something, Hoshiko whispered, more to himself than her.
“Do you think it’s to fight the Dark Followers?” Natsuki asked.
“Maybe,” Simon said, crossing his arms. “But we need more information. If there’s another spirit nearby—or if we can find Renley again—then maybe we’ll finally get some answers.