Empires | Arc 2 | Chapter 3 | Yin and Yang

It is a bright, sunny morning over Titan City. On the 2nd Block medical facility grounds, Jarrod is recovering with light running and stretching. Since Friling has done his job for what he could, Jarrod can move again, but he needs to take things slowly, hence these recovery exercises.

Lesca walks in, saying, “Do you hope to get well by doing what a human without a Heat would do?”

Jarrod stops his stretching and says in a teasing tone, “Hey, good morning. Mind helping me out? After all, you would know, you spend most of your time without Heat!”

She stares at him for a long moment and says, “What would I get in return?”

Jarrod thinks for a moment and says, “I don’t know, but given someone asked you for help, shouldn’t you help them?”

Lesca says in a bossy tone, “Guilt-tripping me, are you?”

Jarrod says, “No, no, but you started it.”

With that, he takes a seat on the grass, looking up at the sky. “It feels nice, you know, talking like this,” he says without turning his gaze away from the clouds.

Lesca goes and sits beside him, quiet and contemplative, looking forward.

Jarrod finally looks down to his front, and as they sit side-by-side, he asks, “What happened… with him, I mean?”

Lesca looks at him, saying, “With whom, what do you mean?”

Jarrod finally turns to her, saying, “You know. For days I thought you were Heat-less, only to find out that when you activated it, I was passed out. And not to mention, Friling tells me it was the strongest!”

Lesca smirks a little and, after a moment, says, “Well, maybe it was too much for your morals anyway.”

Jarrod again looks forward, away from her, saying, “Maybe you are right. But still, we were in trouble, and you stood up to protect us…. That is why I am currently sitting here. Friling, who fought only because he thought I could have his back, he is here too because of you. If it weren’t for you….” He trails off.

The smirk vanishes from Lesca‘s face. She looks at the grass below her, putting her fingers around the tips of the grasses. While caressing them, she says, “You didn’t fail us, Jarrod… if it bothers you, don’t let it. Even till the final moment, you were trying to save the people of Titan City. You were outmatched. We all have those moments.”

Jarrod looks at her with a playful chuckle and says, “Outmatched? Lesca, he literally tossed me around like I was a football.” He stops for a moment, then asks again with a serene smile, “That is why I am asking. What happened between you two?”

Lesca doesn’t speak for a long moment. Finally, turning her gaze onto her lap, she says, “He didn’t… wasn’t disgusted by my history. Even Friling closed himself in his room and didn’t come out for a long time after I killed our parents.”

Jarrod keeps looking at her without a shred of disgust or pity, which makes Lesca hesitant for a bit, since she thought he might react negatively. But he is just quiet.

Jarrod, seeing her in that state, gives her a knowing smile, saying, “Friling told me what happened… but thank you for telling it to me yourself. I am sure you did what you had to do. I know the feeling, even if the action is rather…” He pauses, looking at her, “…different than mine.” He suddenly laughs and pats her shoulder, adding, “But like you said, I run on hope and you run on certainty.”

She says, “Anyways, after the murder, I realized my Heat. As blood started coming out of my nails, I felt their flesh and skin melting, and two skeletons rising up from that.” She shakes her head, closing her eyes like the scene is playing right in front of her, and she doesn’t want to imagine or see whatever she witnessed that night again.

Keeping her eyes closed, she continues, “There was maroon blood everywhere, the smell of boiled-up flesh. And after the rage, I was terrified of myself. I looked around, but Friling was not there….”

She opens her eyes with a serene smile, but tearful eyes and says, “I don’t blame him. It was the most agonizing couple of weeks of our lives… Friling shut himself out, refusing to come out of his room. So I vowed not to use it unless me or Friling… especially Friling, is in danger. Even then, not in front of him, because he can’t see me like that. He… heee…” She bites down on her lower lip to control herself for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut.

Still with her eyes closed, she says, “But when that idiot heard it, he called me a protective sister.” She opens her eyes. A couple of teardrops spill away from her eyes and land on the grass. She is genuinely laughing imagining that moment. “And then, when I showed him the worst—the form I only showed a select few before I killed them—he told me to take his heart.”

She stops looking away, looks Jarrod directly in the eyes, and says, “While others were terrified before their death, he was calm. Like I am saving him from something.” Lesca finally takes a deep breath to compose herself and says, “So that happened. I don’t know what that is.”

Jarrod smiles, looks up into the blue sky, and says, “Maybe he’s your Yang.”

She asks, “What?”

Looking up at the sky, he says, “In this world, there is a balance. Yin is the darkness, and Yang is the light.” He then looks at her. “You consider yourself a darkness, but darkness alone cannot exist. So our Creator also created the light… Yang. Maybe that Taglia guy is your Yang. Maybe you two crossed paths to make you feel like you don’t have to deal with the rage and the fear, the shame and the despair alone. That there is someone who understands it.”

Lesca stares at him for a long time and finally says, “Well, if he was that… I am not saying he is, you are saying it.” She looks at her lips again, interlacing her fingers, and whispers, “Then he wouldn’t have left.”

Jarrod stares at her with a knowing smile and then says teasingly, “Maybe someone is missing that odd man.”

Lesca lifts her head toward the white-clouded sky and says, “Well, he keeps up well despite being an asshole and all.”

Friling‘s voice echoes as he walks onto the grounds, saying, “Well, it was a bad first meeting with my future brother-in-law, don’t you think, sis?”

Both of them look to their left to see Friling, in his usual suit, walking toward them with a knowing smile on his face.

She says, “Really?”

Friling says, “I know that look on your face, Lesca. I have seen it before.”

Lesca gets taken aback again and tries to change the subject, saying, “Since when did you start cracking jokes?”

Friling, walking toward them, says, “Well, since one disaster after another is falling upon us, someone gotta keep the mood lighter, right?” He takes his eyes off Lesca for a moment and looks at Jarrod, who smilingly nods.

Lesca catches this without looking at Jarrod and says, “But it was memorable, wasn’t it?”

Friling finally stands in front of them, looking up at the sky like the two were doing, and says, “Sure. Too much,” as he gently strokes his right side, right where the wing was about to be torn off if not for Lesca.

Lesca sees this and says, “Don’t think you will get rid of me that easily, brother.”

Friling looks down at her with a teasing but warm smile and says, “We will see about that.”

Lesca says, “Ahh, my dear brother, always the cupid.”

Jarrod hears the siblings bickering. From the day he has known them, this is the first time he is seeing this side of them. What appears to be lighthearted is hiding an amount of trauma that maybe even Jarrod cannot fully understand. But he is happy knowing that, for today, for this moment, they are feeling like themselves again.

---

On the other hand,

inside the dense forest that sits between Titan City and Royal City, Taglia is standing with his hands in his pockets. His right leg is suspended in the air, a few inches above the ground—exactly where that precisioned tanto is currently pinned in the dirt.

He doesn’t look up or around. He just stares at the tanto and says, “Makisa, come out.”

For a few moments, there is nothing.

Then, there is a sound—

SHHHHHHIK

—like someone sliding down a tree trunk. A young woman emerges from the darkest corners of the forest. She is short, standing around 4’11” compared to the tallest, Maven, or the average, Lesca.

As she takes each step closer to Taglia, it is visible she wears a long coat; though it might be a normal size, it looks overly long on her frame. She sports hiking boots and skin-tight pants, especially around her lower legs, hinting that she is a runner. She wears a wide belt around her waist. On her left side, there are two scabbards: one has a tanto in it, and the other is empty, since she just threw its blade at Taglia‘s feet. In her left hand, she holds a Nodachi. It is not sheathed in her belt; she is holding it directly on her hand. The sword is easily the same size of her own, if stood upright, but she carries it like a mere stick, offering a glimpse that beneath her small stature dwells a level of strength capable of making even Taglia—a man who is mostly bored by everything else in the world—know her name.

She stands at a distance, crossing her arms over her chest, and says, “Answer. Now.”

Taglia says, “I wasn’t whoring around, you perverted little minx… I was trying to make some money. And yes, I did meet a woman, but I didn’t anything to her.”

She stares at him for a long time and says, “How much did you get? Can we finally buy that katana I wanted? That heritage one?” She asks like a child, which she actually is, being no more than sixteen or eighteen. She uncrosses her arms, walks up to him, bows to pick up her tanto, and sheathes it.

He says, “We can, but then we won’t have enough to live and eat properly.”

She says, “Who cares about those things?” waving off basic human necessities like she is discussing shoe or bag shopping.

Taglia looks at her for a long time, his head tilted to his right. Then, without answering, he starts walking toward the west.

As he walks a few steps, Makisa stands in the exact same spot. He calls back, “I do care… given it’s a question of survival.”

She finally sprints to follow him. With a poker face, she catches up, saying, “Huh, you are a pathetic human. I have fasted for…” She couldn’t finish the sentence because she is making it up on the spot, but she needs to have the last word, so she quips, “…more days than you can imagine.”

Taglia, while walking forward without turning, says, “Eating fruits isn’t fasting, Makisa.”

She says, “Sure it is. It’s not food… food is meat. Fruits are not meat. It’s just, well, tree parts.”

He says, “Well, it’s technically meat if you think trees are alive.”

She says, “Well, each of us has our beliefs, and I respect yours, but the point of the matter is, I am tougher than you.”

He says, “Yes, giving in to materialistic desires and only fighting with wooden dummies definitely makes you stronger.”

She says, “Well, I never had an opponent.”

Taglia doesn’t reply. They take a few steps in silence, save for the sound of their boots hitting the ground.

Then, suddenly, the silence shifts. Only Taglia‘s boot sounds remain. Makisa is still walking, but there is no sound coming from her feet. She unclicks the Nodachi using only her left hand. Then, in a flash—in the exact seconds it takes to breathe in and out—she uses her right hand to draw the entire three-foot blade out of its scabbard.

She jumps.

Again, there is no sound; it is like she is using the exact same air currents to jump that Taglia does when he goes 25 percent Primal Mode or Mach speed.

She drops the scabbard—the only sound that hits the environment—and launches herself toward Taglia, holding the hilt of the blade with both hands. Her target? Taglia‘s neck! Given she was walking only a few steps behind him, the distance is closed instantly.

Taglia doesn’t stop, neither does he turn.

Suddenly, Taglia‘s coat gets a little tighter around his traps, delts, and upper arms. The nodachi lands point-blank against his skin and simply shatters in half like glass. TRINK!

Makisa lands on the ground, holding her broken blade with both her hands, and lets out a loud cry. “NOOO! MY BLADE! I just bought it, you asshole!”

Taglia stops, turns around, and says, “This is your fifth sword in under nine months. When will you stop attacking me?”

She says, “Fuck you! Fuck you, you motherfucking son of a bitch! My sword… ohhh noo, my sword!”

Taglia finally gives in. Looking visibly exhausted—something that even Lesca, her skeletons, the entire Titan City, and Chaos with his meteors failed to make him look—he sighs and says, “Where did you say that katana shop was?”

Her eyes immediately light up.

She tosses the broken piece of the blade into the bushes and says, “Under two kilometers northwest of here.”

Taglia takes a long breath, turning and resuming his walk, now closely followed by a beaming Makisa.

Taglia asks, “Know any food place nearby?”

She says, “Plenty.”

Taglia replies, “Found any place to stay?”

Makisa replies, “What about your whore’s house?”

He says, “You shouldn’t call the nation’s ruler, Lady Liya, a whore. You will get executed for that.”

Makisa snaps back, saying, “Taking away my right to voice the truth, huh? What a corruptible nation! But I shouldn’t be surprised, given her taste in men.”

Taglia makes a high-pitched tone and says, “Hey, what is that supposed to mean?”

She says, “You, obviously.”

He doesn’t turn, but he smirks as the two walk out of the dark woods, about to enter Royal City—a city of history, traditions, and bloodlines.