Choosing A Side Part 6

The air was crisp with dawn chill, mist curling low along the moss-covered ground as shafts of pale morning light pierced through the broken forest canopy. I stood in the center of a clearing not far from the ruins of the village—our makeshift home—my chest rising and falling with shallow, controlled breaths.

Zaine stood across from me. Her golden eyes were focused, and she never left mine.

"Again," She said, her voice calm but insistent.

I've agreed to go to the capital, but we'll need an escape plan in case it's a trap. The best option I can think of is to use the skill that saved me during my fight with Duke Vanth. I'm not sure how I did it, but the ability to teleport saved my life. If I can master a skill like that, it would be incredible. To accomplish this, I sought the help of Zaine, who is incredibly powerful despite not having regained her memory and having much of her power stolen from her. I can't even begin to imagine how strong she must have been at her peak. Even now, I find it challenging to keep up with her. My legs ached. My arms trembled from the strain of hours of exertion. But I nodded. I couldn't afford to stop. If this meeting with Queen Zara turned into a trap, I needed to be ready. We needed to be ready.

I closed my eyes and reached inward toward the sensation I remembered from that moment with the Duke—the **** pull of space folding, warping around me, swallowing me in darkness, and then spitting me out somewhere else. I had to **** it to happen again.

A pulse of black flame exploded near my feet. I dodged on instinct, landing in a roll as Zaine's next attack sliced the air where I had stood.

"Stop holding back," Zaine said. "At that moment, you were fighting with everything you had, so do the same."

Zaine stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. Her demonic aura coiled around her like a second skin, tangible, suffocating. And yet, there was something protective in it, too—something that made my heart race in a different way.

"Let's try something different," She said. "I'm going to push you harder. **** you to move. If your magic responds to danger, then I'll give it danger."

I swallowed. "You mean like last time? You nearly turned me into ash."

A faint smile curled her lips. "Then teleport."

Zaine raised her hand, and a storm of black spears materialized in the air behind her, humming with infernal energy.

I tensed. Sweat beaded on my brow.

"Let's see what's buried inside you, Darx."

"Y-You're too sadistic..." I said, sweat running down my forehead at what was coming.

After a hard day of training, it was time to finish.

"Enough," Zaine finally said, her lips barely moving. "You're getting closer."

I lay in the grass, catching my breath, "Closer to ****," My shirt was ripped in several places, bloodied from shallow wounds.

She stepped over me and reached out a hand.

We walked back together to the village ruin. My limbs felt foreign and heavy, like they no longer belonged to me.

Zaine glanced at me, a rare concern in her eyes. "You're covered in bruises."

"You mean your handiwork?" I replied, voice still ragged.

"Oh, that's right, but…" Zaine suggested with a tilt of her head, her lips stretching into a flirtatious smile. Her mood shifted back to the mischievous teasing I knew so well, brushing aside her momentary concern, "I think you enjoy it when I get rough," She added, her voice low and suggestive, daring me to deny it. She knew well how to turn me on.

I laughed, "Maybe I do."

Zaine stopped walking and turned to face me. Then she kissed me, urgent and consuming. Her mouth was insistent on mine as if daring me to pull away. My hands found their way around her waist, tracing the curve of her hips before grabbing greedily at her ass.

Zaine grew hungrier, more demanding. Her hands roamed my body, pulling at the remnants of my torn shirt, fingertips trailing down to rub my bulge through my pants. My breath hitched, a low moan escaping my lips as her touch made me dizzy with need.

Her movements stopped abruptly. She pulled away, eyes darting past me.

I turned to see what had caused her reaction.

There stood Ryul, wide-eyed and startled, "Whoa! Sorry!" He stammered, raising his hands defensively, "I was just passing by—uh—didn't mean to interrupt."

Zaine's expression shifted from surprise to annoyance, "Sometimes I forget that we are not alone anymore."

Ryul scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his cheeks tinged red, "My bad!?"

I sighed, adjusting my clothes and trying to calm my racing heart. "L-Lets just go."

Ryul laughed nervously, "Right! Good idea."

As we approached the ruined mansion, a fierce storm erupted. Thunder rumbled overhead, deep and resonant.

"This place still gives me the creeps," Ryul muttered, shaking the water from his clothes as we entered.

Zaine moved silently beside me, brushing strands of wet purple hair from her face. She looked calm, as always.

Then the smell hit me.

Warm, spiced, and mouthwateringly familiar.

"Is that…?" I murmured, pausing.

Ryul's ears twitched, "Oh, hell yeah, that's stew, baby. That's the smell of carbohydrates."

We followed the scent to the hearth room, where a fire crackled cheerfully in the stone pit. A pot simmered over it, and standing beside it, with a wooden spoon in hand and a warm smile on her face, was Amelia.

"There you are," Amelia said, her voice soft and bright, "You're just in time. The food is ready."

I hesitated in the doorway. Zaine's hand brushed against mine—just a subtle touch—but enough to ground me. We stepped in together, Ryul wandering ahead, drawn by the aroma like a moth to a flame.

Amelia turned toward me, wiping her hands on her clothes, "It's just like the one I used to make when we were younger. Remember? After training, we come over half-dead from exhaustion and fight over the last piece of bread."

I gave a slight nod, a half-smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it, "You always burned it."

"Hey," Amelia grinned, jabbing the spoon in my direction, "The taste is what matters."

We all sat down around the cracked, uneven table. The wooden benches creaked beneath us, but the meal's warmth and fire dulled the chill in the air. The bowls were mismatched—salvaged from the ruins—and the stew was simple, but it was the best thing I'd tasted in weeks. Across from me, Sunshine was already stuffing her face with chunks of fruit. She perched on the table's edge like a gremlin, smacking her lips with zero shame.

"Hot damn, Amelia," Sunshine said through a mouthful, "You pick it up all those fruits just for me?"

"Of course!" Amelia replied with a smile.

Sunshine waved it off and leaned closer to Ryul, lowering her voice to something more suggestive, "You should marry her, twig-boy. She can cook, she's got boobs, and she treats me well. That's a fuckin' triple threat right there."

Ryul nearly choked on his stew, coughing and laughing at once, "Damn, fairy, I just met the girl."

"So Amelia is not your interest?" Sunshine cackled, wings flicking behind her, "So I'm more your type?"

"WH!" "Coff-coff," Ryul choked on his food because of the nonsense Sunshine was saying.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corner of my mouth. The moment didn't last long. As I stood to set my gear aside, Amelia was already rising, too.

"Here, let me help," Amelia said quickly, moving to take my sword from me, "Your scabbard's still got mud all over it. I'll clean it up."

"I got it," I replied, more forcefully than I intended. But she was already holding the sword, fingers brushing mine in a way that felt deliberate.

"It's fine, Darx. Let me," She said more gently, "Like old times, right? You break it, I fix it."

What's wrong with Amelia? I know we've already made peace or something like that, but she's been acting quite, how do I put it, quite friendly... For some reason, I instinctively turned to look at Zaine.

Zaine didn't say anything, but I noticed. Spoon frozen halfway to her lips, her eyes fixed on Amelia with an unreadable calm. Except I knew her well enough to see the way her jaw tensed—the subtle rise of her shoulders. Zaine didn't need to raise her voice or glare to make her message clear.

This is mine.

Amelia either didn't notice or didn't care. She knelt beside the armor I'd set down and began wiping the plates with a rag, humming under her breath. The tune was familiar—an old song from the village. One I hadn't heard in years.

I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with my hands.

Ryul gave me a look—something between amusement and sympathy—then scooped another bite of stew into his mouth, "Whew. The stew's hot, but this room is sizzling."

Sunshine whisper to Ryul but loud enough for everyone to hear, "One bitch makin' moves, the other plottin' ****. I give it two more days before someone throws a fork."

"Don't say fork," Ryul whispered, "They'll take it as a dare."

Zaine finally stood, slow and graceful, placing her empty bowl down with surgical precision. Her voice was soft but edged like a blade drawn partway from its sheath.

"Thank you for the meal, Amelia," she said, "But next time, I'd prefer if you kept your hands off my partner's weapon."

Amelia glanced up, cloth paused in her grip, "I'm just trying to help."

W-What the fuck is going on? The atmosphere felt incredibly tense. Zaine and Amelia stared at each other, unblinking. Even Ryul and Sunshine stood still, almost as if something bad would happen if anyone dared to move or even breathe. Should I say something?

Luckily, Zaine was the first to speak, easing the tension, "Let's go get some rest, Darx. It was a tough day today, and I'm sure you're tired."

"Y-Yeah...." I replied.

Zaine left the room without another word, and I quickly said goodbye to the others before following Zaine.

The sound of distant thunder stirred me from my sleep. I reached across the mattress, expecting to feel the familiar curve of Zaine's back, her skin always slightly warmer than mine. But my hand landed on nothing but the rough, damp fabric of the old sheets. I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the pale moonlight that slipped through the cracked wooden shutters. The rain was still falling—soft, steady. It was late, long past midnight. The others were surely asleep.

Except Zaine wasn't here.

I sat up, pulling on my boots and grabbing my jacket. Something didn't feel right. Zaine was many things—brave, composed, enigmatic—but never careless. If she'd gotten up in the middle of the night, she had a reason. I stepped out into the hallway. The air was cool, laced with the earthy scent of moss and rain-soaked wood. As I moved slowly through the dim corridor, my footsteps were muffled against the cracked floorboards.

And then I heard them—voices.

Faint but sharp enough to halt me in place. One low, steady, and cold. The other is softer and strained.

Zaine and Amelia.

I stepped closer, my heart thudding in my chest. Their voices drifted from behind the slightly ajar door at the far end of the hallway.

"Why have you been spying on us? Are you that **** to see Darx and me having sex?" Zaine's voice was ice. Regal and lethal all at once.

"I-I wasn't spying on you," Amelia replied, voice quieter, "I just couldn't sleep. That's all."

"Don't lie to me," There was a pause. Then Zaine continued, her tone lower, "I see the way you look at Darx. I feel your eyes on him. I know what you want, Amelia. And I'm telling you—whatever you're planning, stop. If you know what's best for you."

My pulse quickened. So it was Amelia who was spying on us? What? Why?

There was silence for a beat.

"You're right... I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did it. It's just... I... Sorry..." Amelia responded nervously and timidly, "No. I just…" Her voice wavered, "I just want a chance. T-That's all."

"A chance?" Zaine asked, incredulous. "A chance at what?"

"At him."

The air in the hallway seemed to stop.

"You're insane," Zaine said sharply, "You think you can come back into his life—after what you did—and what? Steal him away? You should watch your mouth! I could turn you into ashes if you keep up that insolence!"

"No," Amelia said, her voice firmer now, "I-I don't want to steal Darx from you. I know I lost my chance. I know I was weak. Still, I can't help but feel like my life was stolen. That my chance to live my life with Darx was robbed from me, but I came back. I fought my way back."

"You really are crazy," Zaine replied.

There was another pause. Then Amelia continued, softer.

"You weren't there when we were kids. You didn't see who Darx was back then. He used to smile so much. He had this stupid little laugh when he got excited about something. I know him better than anyone. Before the pain. When he still had hope," Her voice cracked, "You don't know what it's like to wake up every day knowing you ruined the best thing in your life. I do. And I'm willing to suffer for a second chance."

"You speak as if love is a thing you can just claim, Amelia. You think your memories give you ownership. But I have bled beside him. I have killed for him. I would burn the world for him," Zaine said, aggressively approaching Amelia, "You don't know anything about what's going on between Darx and me, so take advantage of this one chance I'm giving you and get out of here. You presume much, human," Zaine said coldly. "I could crush you where you stand."

I leaned against the wall, my breath catching in my throat. My mind raced—conflicted, raw.

"Then do it," Amelia whispered, "Because I'm not backing down. I know I don't deserve Darx. But I love him. I always have. Even when I was too scared to admit it."

The hallway filled with silence. Even the rain outside seemed to hush as if listening.

Then Amelia added, hesitantly:

"I don't know how demons do things, but humans… it's not unheard of for a man to have more than one wife."

A laugh—bitter, disbelieving—escaped Zaine's throat.

"You want to share him? You're more delusional than I thought."

"I know it sounds insane—hell, I feel insane just saying it—but humans can have more than one wife. I'm not trying to take him from you. I just want the chance to be by his side, too. Let me prove I'm not your enemy. Let me prove I can be part of this. I want the chance to earn a place beside you both."

I couldn't take any more.

Quiet as a shadow, I turned and walked back toward the room, my heart pounding. Amelia's words echoed in my head like a chorus of ghosts.

"I love him. I always have."

"Let me prove I'm not your enemy."

Those words that came out of Amelia's mouth...

When I reached the room, I sat down on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands. I didn't know what to feel. I love Zaine. There's no doubt about it. I would never leave her for anything in the world. Still, why do I keep remembering the warmth of summer afternoons Amelia and I spent climbing trees outside the village? The way she'd smiled at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

A few minutes passed—maybe more.

The door creaked open. I quickly lay down and shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Zaine's soft footsteps approached. The bed shifted as she slipped under the covers beside me. For a moment, she was silent. Then she murmured:

"I went to the bathroom."

I nodded slightly, keeping my eyes closed.

She didn't say anything else.

She just lay there, hugging me. I stared into the dark, eyes wide open.

And sleep never came.

The next morning, the scent of something warm and savory wafted through the corridor before I even opened my eyes. Zaine stirred beside me, stretching like a cat in slow motion, and then she ran a hand through her purple hair. I stared at her, looking for signs of something strange about her about the conversation from last night, yet she gave no sign. We dressed in silence. Not awkward, but quiet—like two soldiers slipping into armor for another day. The old floor groaned beneath our feet as we made our way down the narrow hallway to the dining room.

The table was already set.

Amelia was still cooking, her back to us, stirring a pot with practiced grace. She turned with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Morning. Food's ready."

Zaine walked past her without a word and sat down. I gave Amelia a nod and muttered a quiet "Thanks" before joining her.

Ryul was already seated, legs kicked up on a broken stool he'd salvaged, biting into a hunk of bread like it owed him money. Sunshine fluttered near his shoulder, wearing a blade of grass like a makeshift crown.

"Bout damn time you two lovebirds showed up," Sunshine snorted. "If I had to wait one more minute. I was tempted to eat Zaine's food."

"Try it, and I'll rip your wings off and use them to scrub pots," Zaine said dryly, not even looking up.

Ryul grinned and patted the table. "C'mon, fam, dig in. This stew slaps. Like, actually slaps. I'd marry it if it didn't burn my tongue."

Sunshine puffed out her chest. "If food's your kink, Ryul, I've got a muffin back in my pixie stash that'll change your religion."

Amelia gave a genuine laugh as she set more bowls in front of us. She leaned down beside me, brushing a stray crumb from my tunic. Zaine's spoon clinked sharply against her bowl. I glanced at her, then at Amelia, who was now sitting directly across from me, her eyes trying to catch mine.

I **** a chuckle. "Let's eat..."

To say it was an awkward breakfast wouldn't be an exaggeration. At least on my part, since Zaine and Amelia behaved as usual, it almost seemed as if the conversation I overheard between them the night before never happened. Sunshine and Ryul carried the conversation with their usual firecracker banter, but beneath the surface, a silence churned.

When Zaine and I rose to leave for the day's training, Amelia followed us to the door.

"Be careful," she said, brushing her hands on her clothes. "Don't overdo it."

I gave Amelia a quick nod and followed Zaine into the trees, where the village ruins faded behind us.

A month and a half has passed since I accidentally overheard a conversation between Amelia and Zaine.

The sky bled orange, the sun sagging behind the broken remnants of a once-thriving village. Zaine and I stood in the clearing—the same one we'd returned to day after day, rain or shine. Zaine was breathing steadily beside me, arms crossed, sweat gleaming on her bare shoulders. Her hair was tied back with a strip of cloth, streaked with dirt and soot. She looked fierce, raw. Beautiful.

And I was exhausted.

But… I'd done it.

From one edge of the clearing to the other.

Instantly.

No chant. No extra stuff. Just raw instinct, drawn from some bottomless well inside me. Zaine's eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I could see pride—pure, unfiltered.

"You did it," Zaine said quietly.

I tried to catch my breath, my heart still hammering against my ribs, "I… think I did."

She stepped toward me and placed her hand over my chest, fingers splayed across the sweat-soaked fabric of my shirt.

"I felt it," She said, "You weren't forcing it anymore. You let it flow. You bent the space around you like it was yours to command."

I swallowed hard, not quite believing it. I was actually able to do something that only the ancient royalty of Zrephia was supposed to be able to do. I'm actually able to teleport. Short distances, but I can do it.

All signs indicate that I have some connection to that legendary royalty, yet I can also harness demonic energy—extremely potent demonic energy that only grows stronger as I improve. More than ever, I wish Zaine could regain her memories. The time has come to leave this place and head to the capital. I need answers. I need to understand what the hell I truly am.