As they continued their arduous journey southwest, the forest around them grew increasingly dense and treacherous. The thick canopy above allowed only slivers of light to penetrate, creating areas where visibility was drastically reduced. For Shikuro and Bjorn, this environment was particularly challenging. The limited light and the uneven terrain tested their resolve and strength, with Bjorn visibly struggling and Shikuro growing increasingly disoriented.
One night, sensing the growing tension within the group, Shikihime called for a discussion. The seriousness of her demeanor was palpable as she took a deep, steadying breath, like someone bracing themselves to face a formidable adversary. It seemed as though she was on the cusp of making a decision that would alter the course of their journey, perhaps even their lives.
Yoru, perceptive as ever, seemed to understand the internal struggle Shikihime was grappling with. She spoke up, her voice calm yet firm, “You don’t have to do this. We will find a way through. The risk is too great right now.”
Before Shikihime could respond, Shikuro, already in a foul mood from the day''s hardships, demanded, “What are you hiding from us?” His voice, tinged with frustration and exhaustion, echoed in the stillness of the night.
Bjorn, the silent observer, remained quiet, his gaze fixed on Shikihime. He was a man of few words, but his presence was always felt, a steady force amidst the uncertainty.
Shikihime turned to face Shikuro, stepping closer to him. She reached out, placing her hand gently on his cheek, an action that seemed to momentarily bridge the gap between them. Drawing another deep breath, she looked into his eyes and then briefly at Bjorn.
“I am about to share something with you,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “But before I do, I need a promise from both of you.” She paused, her gaze moving from Shikuro to Bjorn and back again. “Promise me, on your honor, that you will not speak of this to anyone without our consent. Not to your inner circle, not to your king. This stays between us, unless I decide otherwise. You must take it to your grave.”
Shikuro, initially skeptical, expecting some sort of jest from Shikihime to lighten the mood, saw something else entirely when he looked into her eyes. There was no hint of teasing; instead, her eyes were filled with desperation, regret, and fear. It was an expression he had never seen on Shikihime before – a vulnerability that she rarely showed. The gravity of the moment was not lost on him.
He glanced at Bjorn, who remained silent but attentive, then turned back to Shikihime. With a newfound seriousness, he made his vow. “I, Shikuro Frostgard of the Iskaldt Rike Realm, swear on my name, my honor, and my country, that whatever you reveal to us will not be shared by me with anyone else.” After his vow, Bjorn knelt before Shikihime and swear as well as Shikuro.
In the dim light of their makeshift shelter, Shikihime''s revelation hung heavy in the air. Minato and Akalune, upon hearing her initial words, wore expressions of doubt and uncertainty. Shikihime, despite her own reservations, felt a compelling need to reveal the truth that had been weighing on her heart. Turning to face Shikuro directly, she locked eyes with him and spoke with a resolve that belied her inner turmoil.
“I am Tomoe Kurayami of the Kurayami Dynasty. My father is Kaito Kurayami, and my younger sister, Shikihime, was assassinated two days before her scheduled departure to the Iskaldt Rike Realm,” she confessed, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of pain.
Shikuro, taken aback, interjected with a mix of anger and disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about!” he exclaimed, unable to conceal his shock. “What do you...”
But Shikihime, gathering every ounce of her strength, interrupted him firmly. “Listen. It is taking everything I have at this moment to talk it out. Be quiet and listen.” Her plea was both a command and a plea for understanding.
As Shikuro was about to protest, Bjorn stepped in. His usually reserved demeanor gave way to a stern assertiveness. “Let the lady finish,” he said, his voice carrying a note of respect and wisdom. “She is not telling this out of her regrets. There is a deeper meaning. Listen, analyze, and then judge.”
Shikuro, momentarily swayed by Bjorn’s words, turned back to Shikihime, his expression softening into a nod, signaling her to continue.
Shikihime resumed her story, her voice a soft murmur that resonated with profound sorrow. “My sister was assassinated by agents of the Stardust Kingdom, and I was there. I even fought one of her assassins. My original mission of escorting my sister into your realm changed drastically—to take over as Shikihime, to avoid any question about the potential alliance.”
The weight of her words was palpable, each syllable heavy with the burden of her secret. “I am a royal princess, and I share a similar background to my sister. I could have remained Tomoe, but there was uncertainty. We were unsure if your realm was part of the assassination plot. We couldn’t admit to having lost a princess right under our watch. It was a tragedy of immense proportions for me. That day, I lost not just my sister, but my personality, my freedom, my identity.”
As she spoke, her eyes conveyed a depth of loss and sacrifice that words could scarcely capture. The group, now privy to her true identity and the heavy mantle she had been carrying, was enveloped in a somber silence. Shikihime, Tomoe, stood before them, a princess who had been thrust into an unimaginable situation, forced to assume a role that was both a shield and a burden.
In the stillness of their hidden refuge, Shikihime''s words resonated with a profound truth that had been concealed for so long. She continued her revelation, recounting the events that had transpired since her arrival in disguise.
"I was constantly on guard, suspecting everyone and everything. I ordered preparations for a potential second assassination attempt, fortifying the estate and readying the staff for combat," she explained, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of lingering fear. "I had a strong intuition that the assassins would return to finish what they started. And I was right."
She paused, her gaze distant as she relived those moments. Shikuro, connecting the dots, interjected, "You mean the estate attack?"
"That''s correct," Shikihime confirmed. "During that attack, I encountered one of the assassins I had fought on the night of my sister''s death. I was overwhelmed with rage and pursued her, seeking vengeance. It was a reckless decision, driven by my emotions."
Bjorn nodded, understanding the depth of her feelings. Shikuro remained silent, his frown deepening as he absorbed the gravity of her words.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Shikihime then revealed the true purpose of her confession. "The reason I''m telling you this is that we, the Kurayami Dynasty, are believed to be giftless. But that is merely a facade. We are gifted, but we conceal it from the world. Even within our own ranks, only those who awaken their gift to a certain degree are privy to the truth."
At this, Shikuro and Bjorn exchanged confused glances. Shikuro broke the silence with a question that hung heavily in the air. "What do you mean by ''gift''? Like my limitless?" he asked, skepticism lacing his voice.
Shikihime nodded in affirmation. "Yes, Shikuro, just as your gift is called limitless, ours is known as darkness." Her admission seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders, even as it added a new layer of complexity to their situation.
Shikuro''s expression shifted as he tried to piece together this new information. Bjorn, ever the pragmatist, asked, "Is this why you were able to defend the estate with so few casualties?"
"Yes," Shikihime replied. "Our gift, darkness, allows us to see in any light condition. In rare instances, it can also enhance our physical abilities in darkness. Akalune here is one of the few whose physical prowess is heightened by it. The ambush they set for us, under poor lighting conditions, turned out to be their downfall."
In the quiet of their secluded refuge, Shikihime''s revelations continued, casting new light on their strategy and the path ahead. "For us, moving in the dark is our greatest advantage. But I need to be honest with you now; it’s better you hear the truth from me than start piecing it together later. I trust you, Shikuro, and I need you to trust us too. Let us watch your back, as you watch ours," she implored, her voice tinged with earnestness.
Shikihime then outlined a new approach for their journey. "During times of reduced visibility, Akalune will take the lead. Her gift allows her to see perfectly in darkness. She''ll guide Bjorn, holding his hand to lead him safely. We can''t afford any injuries, especially with the river crossing ahead."
She turned her attention to the others. "Minato will pair with Yoru, and I’ll be with you, Shikuro. We need to adjust our rest schedule too. Proper breaks during the day are necessary; the night watch and scouting are wearing us down – Minato, Akalune, and me. We don''t have the same stamina as you two. Traveling at night is too risky for us, but we can set false tracks to mislead anyone following us."
Shikuro, absorbing the new plan, asked a pointed question. "Why only three of you on night watch? Is Yoru special, not getting tired in the dark?"
Shikihime''s response came with a gentle, teasing smile. "No, my dear lord, Yoru is a commoner, not gifted at all."
This led Bjorn to openly question, "What do you mean by ''giftless''? But how does she manage in such low visibility?"
Yoru replied matter-of-factly, "It''s just experience. I''ve done many missions in the forest as a tracker, not a direct soldier. It''s the difference in experience that counts."
Bjorn, visibly impressed and somewhat humbled by her words, mused aloud, "Only experience? So we could be the same but are just unaccustomed?"
Yoru reassured him, "You''re not failures, just warriors with a different approach to fighting and different background."
Shikuro, piecing together the information, realized the significance of Yoru''s skills. "So that''s how you spotted those who tracked us? You saw them in the darkness?"
"Correct," Shikihime confirmed. "We used the night to our advantage to ambush them. But my failure was that I somehow missed the ones who were right in front of us..."
Minato interjected, offering support to Shikihime. "That''s enough, Shikihime. You''re not omnipotent. No one saw them, and there are other gifted ones out there."
In the quietude of their shelter, Shikihime''s gaze rested upon Shikuro, her eyes seeking an answer, a sign of trust. "Can you trust me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her question filled the space, leaving a palpable tension in the air.
Shikuro remained silent, his thoughts a tumultuous sea. The silence stretched on, feeling like an eternity to the group. Finally, he broke the stillness with a question that seemed to echo his inner turmoil. "Was everything just an act?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and pain.
Shikihime met his gaze squarely, her eyes reflecting a depth of sincerity. "Nearly nothing was an act. No one in your realm knew Shikihime, so I didn’t have to impersonate her much. She was more serious than me. The teasing, my feelings for you – they are mine alone. No one can take that from me. No one."
Shikuro tried to process her words, to reconcile the woman he knew with the revelations now laid bare before him. After a moment, he responded, accepting her proposed plan. "Let''s go with your idea," he said, closing his eyes briefly as if to gather his thoughts. "I need some time to absorb all this. My trust was shaken, but I still trust you." He then looked at her again, his expression searching. "Is there more you are hiding?"
Shikihime''s response was frank. "I hide many things, but nothing more about me and our gifts. If the Dynasty learned of this, my life would be in danger. I’m risking a lot by telling you this... and..."
Shikuro, intrigued by her hesitation, urged her to continue. "And what?"
Shikihime’s voice wavered slightly, revealing her vulnerability. "I risked ruining the possibility of a harmonious life, a life that could lead to happiness. I wish to stay in the realm, to survive this ordeal, and to kill those who orchestrated this against us. If we don''t reappear soon, they might declare us dead, leading to war or the collapse of the alliance."
Shikuro, visibly moved by Shikihime''s, or rather Tomoe’s, candidness, asked, "What should I call you then?"
Looking down, Shikihime replied softly, "Shikihime. We can''t risk you slipping. Tomoe died months ago. This is something I have come to terms with. I told you because I wanted you to know, not because you needed to. I hoped our feelings were mutual."
Shikuro''s response was a silent contemplation. He wrestled with his emotions, trying to understand the depth of his feelings for the woman before him. Was it Shikihime or Tomoe he had grown fond of? He recognized her truthfulness and the risk she took in revealing her secret. His rational side accepted her explanation, yet his emotions were in disarray, seeking clarity amidst the revelations.
Interlude: Archduke Harald Frostgard
In the private chambers of King Ivar, Archduke Harald Frostgard sat, sharing a beer and discussing the future. The room, richly adorned and steeped in the history of the Iskaldt Rike Realm, bore witness to their strategic deliberations.
Ivar, with a ruler’s foresight, broached a crucial topic. “I desire for one of your children to marry into the Kurayami Dynasty. It’s essential for the Realm to forge a pact, perhaps even an alliance with them,” he stated, his voice carrying the weight of his royal responsibility.
Harald, his expression contemplative, responded to his King. “Don’t worry. I’ll name my firstborn in a way that resonates with the Dynasty, showing our willingness to take the first step. And ensure that the child is sent off as soon as feasible.” He paused, a hint of distaste in his tone. “As for my second wife, if she doesn’t bear a son, I can count on one of your sons, right?”
Ivar nodded, but his curiosity was piqued. “Why such disdain for your first wife?” he inquired.
Harald, surprised by the question, replied candidly. “What’s there to like? She was imposed upon me, always making absurd demands, endlessly irritating. If I had my way, I’d have sent her to the afterlife long ago.”
Ivar, though surprised by the harshness of Harald’s words, tried to lighten the mood with a joke about his own marital challenges. “All three of my wives are demanding. Had I known, I’d have stuck with just one,” he chuckled.
However, Harald remained unamused, his mind clearly elsewhere. “I’ve done my duty by fathering a child with her. That child will be used for your political schemes, and the sooner it’s sent to the Dynasty, the better.”
Ivar, with a hint of concern, reminded him, “But you realize, until that child leaves for the Dynasty, he is next in line and, in your absence, the head of the house.”
Harald’s chuckle was dark and knowing. “I’ll make sure the boy knows his place.”
Tragically, a few weeks later, both of Harald’s wives died during childbirth. In a turn of grim irony, Harald himself fell victim to assassins linked to his first wife, who had plotted to ensure her child''s succession if the second wife bore a son. The second son, however, mysteriously disappeared, his fate becoming a whispered question in the halls of power.