That night, the rain came down in a furious torrent, as if the heavens themselves were unleashing their wrath without a care for tomorrow. Thunder roared violently, shaking the castle walls with booming strikes. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the darkened chambers in jagged bursts of white light.
In the princess's room, the magical crystal that usually lit the halls shattered with a sharp crack, plunging everything into utter darkness. A single candle flickered wildly in the sudden gusts of wind—then snuffed out.
She awoke abruptly, her heart pounding in the eerie silence that followed the storm's fury. With every deafening clap of thunder, the room seemed to alternate between pitch black and blinding clarity, as if the storm itself was revealing and hiding her surroundings in a twisted rhythm. Her breath caught in her throat.
Panicked, she hurried down the long, cold corridors toward the king's chambers—only to find them empty.
Not a single maid was in sight. The guards were all stationed on the lower floors, roaming the vast halls with uneasy expressions, their armor clanking softly under the dim glow of emergency lanterns.
Her voice echoed down the stone walls as she called out, sharp and desperate, but it was swallowed by the storm's rage outside.
Then she saw it—a carriage slipping silently away from the palace gates, disappearing into the night's deluge.
Had the king left? But why so suddenly, and without warning?
Her footsteps faltered when she noticed a door left ajar, with a lone candle burning faintly inside. Peering through the gap, she saw a figure hunched over, fingers weaving with mana—flames flickering and twisting into the shape of a delicate butterfly hovering in his palm.
It was Kyota.
Her ruby eyes gleamed with admiration, captivated by the beauty of the fiery dance. She stepped forward, curiosity guiding her to the doorway.
Kyota suddenly turned and locked eyes with her—only to find himself staring into a pair of fierce, demonic red eyes.
Startled, she lost her balance and tumbled into the room.
Kyota blinked, confused by the sudden intrusion. "My guess was right," he muttered, his voice low and tense. "It's a monster."
She flared with indignation. "How dare you call me a monster?" she snapped, shoving him hard in the chest.
Their argument escalated, voices sharp as thunderclaps, until she shouted something unexpected.
"Hinoka."
He blinked. "What?"
"That's my name—Hinoka."
"Now tell me yours."
Kyota chuckled softly, breaking the tension. "Come to think of it, we never properly introduced ourselves. I'm Ky—" he took a deep breath, "My name is SENSAKI, Kaito Sensaki."
"Weird name," she teased, lips curving into a reluctant smile.
Their laughter filled the room just as the maids appeared, eyes wide but relieved to find the princess and Kyota safe, sharing a rare moment of joy.
Moments later, the king arrived—stern and commanding.
"You two will be leaving at dawn," he said with no room for argument.
Kyota opened his mouth to protest, but the king cut him off sharply: "There is no 'but.' This is an order. Obey it while you remain in this kingdom."
The princess nodded, steeling herself.
The next morning, beneath the same ancient scarlet sakura tree by the castle gates, the princess waited, tapping her foot impatiently.
Kyota arrived late, shrugging sheepishly. "Do you always wait here?" he asked.
She nodded. "It was my mother's favorite spot. I come here to remember her."
Kyota's expression darkened. "Your mother…?"
She sighed, a shadow crossing her features. "She died of a curse. One no healer could undo. The kingdom still whispers about it."
For a long moment, Kyota said nothing, watching her with quiet sympathy.
Their journey began. They wandered through bustling towns, tasting strange foods like spicy roasted chestnuts and sweet honey cakes from jovial street vendors. They laughed and teased, playfully arguing over whose fashion sense was better—she draped a delicate silk shawl over his shoulders, while he helped her pick out a deep crimson cloak that shimmered like fire.
At a market stall, a man grinned and whispered to his friend, "Looks like those two might make a fine couple someday."
The princess blushed, saying nothing, stealing a glance at Kyota, who simply smirked.
As they walked, she asked quietly, "What about your parents?"
Kyota's face clouded over, his usual spark dimmed. "That's… not something I talk about."
She persisted gently until his patience snapped.
"Act like a princess!" he barked, anger flashing in his eyes. "Your mother… She brought disaster to this kingdom. A disaster like you. Maybe it's better she's gone. Thank God she didn't have to see her daughter grow up to be such an annoying brat."
A hush fell over the nearby crowd. The princess's ice cream melted, unnoticed, in her hand.
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "I hate you, Kaito. Don't come near me again."
She turned sharply and walked away, her knight following closely.
But just before she vanished around the corner, she spun back and slapped Kyota hard across the face.
"Don't ever come near me again."
Kyota stood frozen, stunned—as though the world he had built was crumbling beneath his feet.
On the road, a young duke's son who had witnessed the scene bristled with anger. He charged at Kyota, fists flying.
Kyota absorbed the blows beneath his black cape, tears stinging his eyes.
With a deep breath, Leovar summoned a forbidden spell—a power inherited from his father. Kyota screamed as wounds tore open across his body, relentless.
"Still standing?" Leovar snarled. "Impressive."
Kyota, with his torn body, unleashed a devastating punch that sent the noble flying—only to land beneath the boots of a powerful knight.
The knight raised his sword with deadly precision.
Kyota reached under his cape for his sword—only to realize he had left it at the castle, thinking the day would hold nothing important.
The blade tore through his cape, exposing the cursed mark on his side—a mark so sinister, not even the princess had seen it beneath his bandages.
Recognition flickered in the knight's eyes. "So, this is the second child of Aqua and Raito…" he muttered, recalling the day Raito had severed his own hand.
Kyota's hands, still injured, trembled—his mana drained, his hope fading.
With only one working hand and no weapon, he stood defenseless. The knight's strikes rained down until darkness claimed him.
Meanwhile, Princess Hinoka retraced her steps, tears falling as she ran back toward the town center.
A crowd had gathered around a statue of a fiery spirit—a goddess worshipped by the kingdom.
Pushing through the people, she gasped.
There, hanging from ropes that pulled his arms painfully to both sides, was Kyota. He was stripped to his underwear, his injured hand tied so tightly the flesh had turned purple. His ribs were bruised, some areas discolored. But his face—half the bony mask fused to his skin had been torn away, exposing bloodied flesh and gritted teeth beneath.
Tears mixed with blood streamed from his reddened eyes.
"N-no..." she whispered, clutching her chest. "I am Hinoka, Princess of Homura, the Fire Kingdom. Who did this?"
The duke's son stepped forward smugly. "I did, Your Highness. He hurt you, so I acted."
Her hand lashed out, slapping him hard. Blood spurted from his mouth as a tooth cracked.
"Are you even a man?" she hissed. "To strike someone already broken? Do you even know who he is? Fight him fairly next time, if you dare."
She added, "If my father says he's worthy, I can't say how powerful he might be. Maybe his spells are at a calamity level."
"Calamity level? Impossible," someone whispered.
Suddenly, the knight of Prince Astar appeared—a tall man with fierce eyes and a crimson aura.
"The knight of my uncle," she said coldly, glaring at the duke's son.
"He caused the trouble," the duke's son stammered. "This boy is not innocent."
"I heard the duke's son attacked first," the princess spoke. The knight added, "To defend your honor."
Then the princess's eyes went blank, flames swirling in her palm, her hair whipping around like a storm.
She stepped forward, her gaze blazing like a dragon's. "This ends now. Get him down. Immediately."
Her knights moved to obey.
"I will see this through," she declared, her voice echoing with royal authority. "You are responsible."
The knight clenched his sword, glaring at Kyota, but dared not step forward—the princess's fiery stare held him back.
He glanced at his own left arm—or rather, the stump where it had once been—lost long ago to Raito.
Away from the crowd, the duke's son seethed, "She will be mine. All mine. I will take over this kingdom."
The knight warned, "Please don't. That boy… he can kill you if he wants to. His powers exceed Class Four mages—maybe even Class Three. You're only in Class Five."
"Doesn't matter. I will kill him."
The princess knelt beside Kyota, brushing his bloodied hair back. "I'm sorry," she whispered through tears. "We'll fix this. Together."
Kyota's eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a fragile spark.
A storm still raged outside, but inside the hearts of these two broken souls, a new fire had begun to burn.