Many of the professors warned the cadets about mimics. The professors observed mimics possessed only the likelihood of most individuals. Mimics lacked complete recall of individuals whose forms they adopted. As Anemone sat, she recalled a lesson from her courses in the Bestiary of Dusk Dwellers.

  “It was just a doppelg?nger; it wasn’t her. I need to breathe.”

  Mimics were another name for doppelg?ngers. After consuming the blood or flesh of its victims, they transformed into a form of lesser Gallu-utukku capable of any shape. If desired, it could also transform into an inorganic object. When traveling through dense areas, it’s best to camp before dusk; otherwise, you would run into trouble. It was common for them to take the form of their prey and replace them after devouring them, consuming increasingly more.

  “This was a youngling…Thank, Lauma,” Anemone said. “Had it been older, it would’ve waited around as a tree or stump and just snapped my neck.”

  Anemone breathed slowly, focusing on the rise and fall of her chest. After wiping her sweat, Anemone stood and walked forward. Every step dragged toward the ooze-laden mimic. As she reached the core, she almost fell. Anemone grabbed the knife, but her hand quickly let it go. Then, she tried to grip the handle again and again, but it dropped. Anemone looked down at her hands. They were still shaking.

  “Fuck.”

  After a few more tries, Anemone could finally put its core in her grimoire. Next, she pulled a lantern and a second knife. Since Anemone ran into “her” mimic, Aronia wasn’t too far off. Anemone dimly lit the lantern and stuck to the forest floor, carving trees as she passed.

  “I should have done this in the first place,” she whispered.

  If more doppelg?ngers showed up, their bodies would react to the light. It was an old trick she had recalled her professor mentioning. After consuming enough material, mimics would lose their pseudo-gelatinous form and stick to objects. The older they were, the less aggressive but more intelligent they became. Some were even crafty enough to taunt their prey by making sounds to induce hysteria or a Phantasy-Ars. And those markings acted as a precaution. If Anemone saw it repeating while moving, it would indicate that something had already ensnared her. Up to now, she had avoided trouble. Continuing forward, the sound of rushed movements crashed in the distance.

  The impact of metal smashing into the ground erupted from the earth. What followed were the grunts and battle cries of someone fighting an intense battle. Wood crunched, and a falling branch whistled through the air as heavy thuds continued to roar through the forest. Anemone sped up, dashing toward the sound. As she got closer, her eyes saw lingering black flames along the ground.

  “Another trail! Nia, please be ok!”

  The doppelg?nger’s path guided her to a small clearing. The sound of another booming slam blasted in front of her like a trumpet, signaling she had arrived at the battlefield. When the whoosh of metal cut through the air, she turned her head. The pole arm’s swing, inches from her face, drew her gaze. Aronia had shifted into Aron. Only a few more cuts covered Aron’s body than before. And none were deep.

  “Careful, Nin, I almost hit you with my goedendag,” Aron’s deep voice warned.

  If I had been any faster—Anemone gulped.

  Broadening her eyes, Anemone stopped that thought instantly. Her head shook violently as her face paled from her heart nearly exploding in her chest. Rapid breaths filled her chest, and she gripped her heart.

  “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I took one down,” said Anemone.

  “Look at ye, showing off,” Aron flexed.

  “That’s not—never mind.”

  Anemone dismayed Aron’s nervousness with a headshake, but dwelling on it was not possible presently. After hearing more rustling, Anemone’s focus bounced right back.

  “Usually, you don’t see them working in groups. Isn’t this strange?” Anemone continued.

  “No kidding. Getting ‘rough’ with two at the same time is not my type of night,” Aron mocked.

  “Was that comment necessary?”

  “Mmm, yes?”

  A sound of disgust left her lips, and Anemone’s eyes locked on leaves that fell from above. The branches above the canopy rustled violently, clueing them to where the doppelg?nger was. With Aron wielding a blazing orb, its luminescence kept the mimic concealed within the shadow. The light’s intensity prevented foes from confronting. The rustling ceased, and the duo froze in silence. Anemone’s stomach fluttered with an empty feeling, and her palms sweated. With a lantern in one hand and a knife in the other, Anemone pressed her lips together, straining her eyes. Her eyes darted around while hearing the wind’s howls fill the silent forest with its echo and disappear. Abrupt rustling appeared from the branches at Aron’s four o’clock.

  “Arcane-Mono: 1st Tier: Exalt: Kinesis,” Anemone chanted.

  Their bodies filled with energy to bolster their speed. The doppelg?nger had launched sharpened tree branches like arrows from where they focused. Aron and Anemone evaded the volley, separating. And right in between them, an enormous boulder slammed from above, barely missing. The boulder reformed a part of itself into a spear and lunged at Anemone. As she leaped back again, Anemone raised her dirk; the spears slid off it, parrying the strike. The spear sliced her left shoulder, forcing her to swallow a yelp. Gritting her teeth from the blow, her arm throbbed.

  “How does it still have the weight of a boulder!?” she cried.

  Anemone deflected numerous sword strikes, plus some spear thrusts, from comrades and Spriggan. Those strikes caused her fingers to ache intensely, almost forcing her to drop her knife. The force knocked her off balance, sending her to the ground. Quickly, she rolled to her feet, dropping the lantern. The doppelg?nger shifted back into a shadowy figure, focusing its attention on Anemone. Aron took advantage of its distraction and attacked its core.

  “Vulcan-Mono: 1st Tier: Tyndre (Core),” said Aron.

  The spell set it ablaze, and flames raged on the surface of its core, causing the doppelg?nger to screech in agony. Anemone dashed at the doppelg?nger’s center, aiming for the exposed green core. As her knife pierced the gemlike core, its impact ran from the knife into her arms. The sensation felt as if she had slammed her fingertips into a table at full force. Fluid gushed from the wound she carved into the creature. Then Aron thrust his goedendag to deliver the finishing blow, shattering the core.

  “NIN BEHIND!” Aron yelled.

  The third doppelg?nger launched itself at Anemone, enraged. Anemone spun around, drawing the other knife she had. As she tossed it, the creature split in half and pulled its core to her left side, protecting its heart. The knife missed its mark and impaled a tree behind. But Anemone kept her eye on its core even as it leaped away.

  “MY LEFT!” roared Anemone.

  “Got it!”

  Aron shot another Tyndre spell and stunned the creature. Anemone then threw her remaining blade at its core, and the doppelg?nger screamed as it fizzled away. Without breath, Anemone walked up to collect the spoils and her knives. As she pulled a silken cloth from her pocket, she wiped her blades clean of the viscous fluid. After wiping her blades, she realized how damaged they were. The metal was tinged with a rusty orange; it bubbled to the point of almost liquefying. Her heart sank.

  “I guess shoving them into trees, gems, and acidic blood can do that,” Anemone stared. “But these are my oldest pair…”

  Doppelg?ngers’ blood was highly corrosive to metal. If you were lucky, you could clean weapons fast enough to salvage them. Unfortunately, she was not so lucky. Anemone’s gaze softened to a longing look at the two knives she had been swinging since she started training. Unfortunately, heavy use had frayed the edges considerably, worsened by the acidic blood. Although she did her best to keep maintaining them, maybe it was about time she switched.

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  “I might be screwed… I think I only have eight throwing knives and two seaxes left.” She thought. Good thing I brought both long swords and a bow for security. A spear would have been useful too.

  Anemone tucked them into her grimoire and took out the last pair she had. After sliding them into her holsters, she pressed her face into her hands and took a deep breath to dwell on their victory.

  When Anemone looked at her hands, they were trembling. Every blow she took or gave had sent vibrations through her body. Even now, the throbbing has pulled faintly. She clenched her hands into a fist and pressed her face into her hands, holding back a gaping cry. Her arms dropped, and they felt too heavy to lift again. Aron spoke to Anemone, stretching as if their near-death battle was a warm-up.

  “That was a clever one!”

  “Wasn’t this my dream?” Anemone gasped.

  “Whoever fought this before either died or let it get away.”

  Those words were harrowing. Her body wanted to shut down. And as her ears began ringing, Aron’s words went mute. Anemone looked back into the dark, star-filled sky, and her vision went blurry. Her neck hairs stiffened while her limbs trembled. Fear was constantly creeping up, the throbbing pain, endless battles with her death looming; it was almost too much. Something suddenly gripped her shoulder, causing her body to spin around. Fortunately, it was only Aron.

  “Are yoo ok, Nin? Yoo seem down.”

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” sulked Anemone.

  “No, yer not,” Aron grabbed her hand. “This whole time you’ve been trying to stick to yourself. And picking fights. Yer practically shaking out of your skin.”

  Anemone pulled away.

  “It doesn’t matter; let’s just head back,” she said.

  Adrenaline left her, and then she felt movement return to her legs. As soon as she took a step, they buckled. Aron caught her and laughed.

  “Yer really gun-ho on this frailty thing, aren’t ya?”

  “Buzz off, Aron… My body isn’t cooperating with me.”

  When Anemone jerked her arm away from Aron, she fell to the ground, kneeling. The impact rushed up her knees, through her spine, and into her head, forcing her to plop on her ankles.

  Anemone spoke dryly, “I’ve had enough.”

  “What do you mean?” Aron leaned into his hip.

  “This is too much for me. How the MUSPELL am I supposed to enjoy this? Why is everyone acting like this? Spriggan is mad! This situation is TERRIFYING!”

  “Nin, weren’t you the one who wanted this? Yoo can’t back out now,” Aron pleaded.

  Anemone threw her arms up and down at her sides.

  “MINOTAUR SHIT! I will not do this!”

  Aron walked up to Anemone to pull her up. “Don’t be a baby. It’ll be alright.”

  “No! It won’t! Nia, we? COULD DIE!”

  Aron's face went sour. His brows narrowed, and red flushed into his eyes.

  “Well, Abhainn to Ninlil Anemone! No shit! I’m already dying! I want to live in peace behind the walls before I croak! BUT YOO!!! Yoo want to do THIS for a living!”

  The way those words settled in her chest made her want to vomit. Anemone covered her face with her hands, almost unable to take a full breath. Air clogged her throat as she held back a sob.

  “Am I that clueless…Is this how you’ve felt—constant terror?”

  “In a way, but bein’ eaten or mauled half ta death ’re a wee different from coughing up boiling blood,” Aron said.

  Anemone sat quietly.

  “So they’ve had death knocking on their door at every moment… how did they stand this terror? Lauma, I’m such a fool.”

  She knew heat haze was an issue since childhood, but this was beyond her. Anemone didn’t understand how Spriggan or Titania constantly chose monster slaying. Now here she was doing what they had done. What they willingly wanted. The thought seemed beyond ridiculous. And it seemed her team also displayed suicidal tendencies. Anemone looked at Aron, but he quickly averted his eyes without uttering a single thing.

  “The worst part is there’s no cure for Heat-Haze, but there’s definitely a cure for cowardice.”

  “So, what now?” Aron continued. “Are yoo gonna sit there and wait ‘til the Trials ’re over?”

  “Sorry, Roni, I just don’t have the energy for this, and with everything else, I just…”

  “Just what, Nin? Please tell me what else is troubling yoo, your Highness,” Aron threw his hands up.

  “Look, I’m surry. I’m overwhelmed—”

  “—We all are NIN! Suck it up!” Aron interrupted. “I’m tired of picking you up when you fall!”

  Anemone looked back at Aron, who began repeatedly switching back and forth between Aronia and Aron. Their faces were on the verge of tears, gasping in pain from the transformation. They leaned against a nearby tree hinged over. As Aron gripped their morphing body, it could not decide which one it would be. An agonizing groan raged from Aron as he became Aronia and then Aron one last time. He hid behind a tree, huffing and digging his fingers into its trunk. Once his voice calmed, he muttered.

  “I’m surry I yelled,” Aron answered. “I’m also scared, but yoo keep going on without a word. It makes it hard to be around you. And then you boil over when things are too mu—”

  “—Is that why you want Rubus?”

  Anemone uttered those words, her mind processing the question’s gravity once realizing its significance. Her throat grew dry, and she bit her lip, not wanting to pry. Anemone recoiled, contemplating their closeness. She leaned back and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse it with all her might. Aron hadn’t brought him up before, and just hearing Rubus’s name rivaled a punch to the gut. Their prolonged connection meant they shared everything. Yet Aron’s connection with Rubus had been a secret.

  “I don’t want to talk about this in the middle of a forest where we could die. Can we PLEASE deal with this when we get back?” Aron begged.

  Anemone huffed, “Sure.” A sullen look crept onto Anemone’s face as her stomach hardened. The two of them were silent, and Anemone fixed on the ground. With every moment, her chest grew tighter. Peeking back at Aron, Anemone could see how he pressed his head against the tree, at a loss for words. The moment he looked her way, she averted her eyes. She didn’t want to admit she was probably neglecting Aron. Nor did she want to ask about Rubus anymore.

  “Have I neglected them? Can I even compete with someone as talented as Rubus?” murmured Anemone. “No, it’s pointless to ask. I’ll just seem as whiny as usual.”

  Her chest burned at the thought of being asked about their relationship. Anemone knew it was none of her business. After all, they were both Ars users. Being Unseelie, they naturally comprehended each other better than she ever could. Anemone rubbed her arms while she let out a depreciating laugh.

  “What can a sheltered princess offer anyone? Of course, he’s the better option.”

  Anemone pinched her brow as her shoulders slumped. Aron was the only one close to her, and losing them to Rubus would hurt. However, she understood their choice if it happened. As her mind kept spiraling about everything, words spilled out.

  “I’m sorry, Nia. I just don’t know what to do. Everything is crazy. Titania and Spriggan are missing; I think they’ve lied to me so much. My body and dreams are getting weirder, and then there’s us.”

  Aron paused before she spoke and looked Anemone in the eyes. “Nin, we both know I have little time left.”

  “It’s just—”

  “No, Nin. Fer the longest time, I’ve been a strange succubus. I can’t shift forms freely, and my Vulcan-Od is killing me. My family is a mess. I’m adopted, so my parents can’t help me because they don’t know what’s wrong with me. There’s a lot in my life too! But I just want to see as many tomorrows with you as I can.”

  She didn’t want to believe that Aron was going to die. They had planned so much together. Anemone wished to suppress that idea. The morning when they fought made her lips press together in a slight grimace. They had fought even before that on multiple occasions. The burning sensation in her chest intensified because Titania estranged her as much as Florentina did Aron. They practically shared that experience of missing mothers.

  Anemone said, “At least Florentina is reasonably located.”

  The more she thought about it, the hotter her face got, and the stronger the desire to crawl into a ball grew. It became so much; it made her feel even worse; it was the reason Anemone could never fault her for choosing to stay home. Being close to loved ones before dying was reasonable. Maybe Anemone hoped their leaving Tir-noNog could help them escape their fate, but she knew it was foolish. Anemone pierced her arm with her nails.

  “Am I that weak? I can’t even ignore my pain for you,” shrugged Anemone. “Nia, I know we’re focused on you, but if I lose you, I don’t know how I’ll face Titania.”

  “…I think that for you to decide.”

  Anemone looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Thinking and words aren’t my forte, y’know.” Aronia’s head flinched back slightly. “I wish you’d stop comparing yerself to yer mum… She’s great and all, but you're not her.”

  Anemone nodded, “That’s the problem… She’s great, and I’m Sylph-less and wingless.”

  “Please don’t change the subject, Nin. I won’t be here one day, and it’s time we talk about it.”

  Anemone hadn’t prepared for this conversation, but she knew it was coming. Every moment she stepped forward, something pulled her heart back down. She didn’t want to hear anything else. Her body jumped to her feet as if it were ready to take off into the distance. It took everything Anemone had to stop her feet from making her body turn away and flee.

  “I asked Rubus to look after you when you head to Albion.”

  Anemone stepped back. It was as if a bolt of thunder had struck the ground before her.

  “Are you serious? Why him?”

  “Just give him a chance. It’s a long story, but I knew him from Albion. Before we met. I thought he was dead, but he’s not, and we reconnected.” Aron rubbed their neck.

  Anemone’s jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “Do yoo not remember the last few convos involving him? Much less when yoo talk to him yerself?” Aron raised their brow.

  “I just… I don’t know if I can trust Rubus.”

  “But I do. Who else can I turn to keep an eye out for yoo besides my family? And maybe the auldjin? We both know Titania is in her ‘own’ world.”

  That shot through her chest like an arrow. Although it was more than a sore spot, Anemone knew Aron was right. Spriggan was the most consistent one in her life, and he was gone often. At this point, Anemone had little choice. Malice defined their interactions, but Anemone might need to move past it. But the moment she thought about it, Anemone remembered fighting Rubus. In a practice fight that had a bad outcome, she had fallen to his swordplay. While victorious, Rubus had stepped on her chest and spoke in a bitter tone. Anemone could hear his words even now as he leaned down with the flat edge of a blade to her throat. He warned, “You’ll fail if you take on more than you can handle again, Wingless.” Even if she had seen him that way earlier, it wouldn’t have changed how she felt. Something about him was dangerous and untrustworthy, and it didn’t matter if Aron had known him in Albion before they had met.

  “Fine, but just know I still don’t trust him,” Anemone pouted.

  “That’s fine. Just give it time.”

  Anemone kept her arms folded as they walked back in silence. They remained silent for the rest of the walk. Words eluded her; sleep was her sole wish. Each movement prompted her to collapse and cry out into the void. Anemone ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head with a hiss.

  “Fuck.”