Topaz 7

The beasts, wild animals, and mutants that infested this forest were no easy opponents. But Haran and Merdina were more skilled swordsmen than he’d initially thought. They moved with a seamless coordination, honed by years of shared practice, leaving no openings in their defense.

Soon, the ground was littered with carcasses and stained with blood. It had been a while since Topaz had seen such a sight. When he first built this cabin, all manner of beasts and magical creatures, drawn by the scent of unfamiliar prey, had attacked. And Topaz had never once retreated or fled from the fight.

Born in the slums of the back alleys, Topaz had grasped a sword before he turned eight and lived a life of constant struggle. He was used to a world where sleep was a luxury, let alone time for strategizing.

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Topaz had readily met the challenge, spilling blood in front of his cabin every day. Over time, only those who learned to associate this place with death survived. After a year, the forest’s food chain had been rewritten. That was how Topaz had secured this fragile peace.

As the place he’d peacefully walked through during the day became drenched in blood, Karjen, perhaps finally deciding to heed his warnings, retreated into the cabin. Though the darkness obscured the carnage, it couldn’t have been a pleasant sight.

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But Karjen, instead of taking shelter, soon returned, holding a wad of paper.

“What are you doing?” Topaz asked.

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“Preparing to use magic in my current state. It’s rather embarrassing,” he replied, his voice inappropriately gentle for the situation. He dropped the papers carelessly at his feet. They were covered in a chaotic scribble of lines that Topaz couldn’t decipher.

“Everyone, step back.”

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“…?”

Topaz was about to question Karjen’s sanity when Haran and Merdina, without hesitation, sheathed their swords and retreated. Topaz was puzzled.

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“What are you planning to do?”

“Shh. Just trust me this once.”

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Karjen’s strange confidence and the unquestioning obedience of the two knights convinced Topaz. Hoping the mage wouldn’t cough up blood on his lawn, he stepped back.

Karjen extended his hand towards the ground, palm open. Though there was no wind, the scattered papers began to swirl and rise, rearranging themselves in a dizzying dance. Looking closer, Topaz saw a pattern forming. The papers, now arranged in a circle, formed a large magic circle.

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“Bind and devour,” Karjen uttered, a short, sharp command unlike any incantation Topaz had ever heard.

A brilliant golden light erupted from the magic circle. The flapping of wings as birds took flight echoed in the distance. But Topaz couldn’t spare them a thought. He was transfixed by the unbelievable sight unfolding before him.

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The golden light extended outwards from the papers like a net, too fast for ordinary eyes to follow, but perfectly visible to the three swordsmen.

It was a spiderweb spun from threads of golden light. The beasts caught in its web froze, as helpless as insects.

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Karjen flicked his wrist, and another layer of the net unfurled, stretching across the forest. In the brilliant light, the mage’s short hair seemed to shimmer with gold. The two layers of the net drew closer, then merged seamlessly.

“…..”

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Nothing remained between the two layers. Not a single scrap of flesh, not a drop of blood.

As the golden light faded, the overgrown grass swayed peacefully, as if nothing had happened. It had all transpired in the blink of an eye.

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The mage, having effortlessly eradicated dozens of beasts, turned around. Karjen smiled, his expression no different from when he’d been talking about knitting a tablecloth.

“I couldn’t very well leave your yard messy, could I?”

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“…Ha.”

This was no naive nobleman or hapless fugitive caught in a succession struggle. Topaz would bet his life on it.

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***

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“Topaz, I’m so scared of the beasts, would you mind if I slept with you?”

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The mage who had just obliterated a horde of beasts was now using a preposterous excuse to weasel his way into his room.

“Go ask Haran to be your pillow.”

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“You’re joking, right?”

“No.”

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“Haran would sleep through a beast devouring me right beside him.”

“That’s a joke, surely.”

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“Partially.”

Even if he’d been raised in luxury, a knight was still a knight. Could it be true? Topaz couldn’t quite dismiss the possibility.

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“There’s already someone in my bed,” Topaz said.

“Oh?”

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Karjen peeked into the room. The white fox was curled up at the head of the bed, purring softly in its sleep. Startled by the earlier commotion, it had darted inside and claimed the bed before its owner.

Karjen stared at the sleeping fox as if it were a rival, his lips pressed into a thin line. His drooping eyes seemed about to reach the floor.

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“If you don’t mind the cramped space, come in.”

“Alright.”

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Karjen quickly slipped into the bed, head first. Topaz felt like he had two foxes in his bed.

He’d grown accustomed to the warmth of another body beside him, so he closed his eyes, ignoring Karjen’s fidgeting and soft snores.

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Topaz’s dreams were mostly red. The severed head of a former comrade, scorching flames licking at his feet, his hands drenched in blood.

He’d made many enemies, and he carried many grudges. It was only natural that his dreams were restless.

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He’d stopped struggling, even in his nightmares. He simply waited, listlessly, for the night to end, like a helpless animal waiting to suffocate in a burning pit. Unlike an animal, however, no one would pity him.

But tonight, it wasn’t the crushing weight of his past or the faint morning light that woke him. It was a cool touch on his forehead. A hand, too large and cool to belong to the fox that often snuggled close.

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The moment he realized it was a human hand, Topaz seized it, twisting and shoving the body away, pinning it beneath him. It was a reaction ingrained in his very being.

Blink. Disheveled black hair, a body pressed against the bed, a slightly flustered expression. It all registered one by one.

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“Ah.”

Sleep vanished instantly. This was his sanctuary, his cabin in the forest. And the bewildered face before him was the one who had disturbed his fragile peace.

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“Did I frighten you? I apologize. You seemed to be having a nightmare, so I tried to wake you.”

Karjen’s voice was low and soothing, like someone calming a frightened animal. Topaz let out a shaky breath.

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A yelp. The white fox, rudely awakened, leaped off the bed and scurried underneath. Karjen, however, remained motionless, pinned beneath him. He didn’t seem surprised or flustered by the sudden assault. In fact, he seemed calmer than Topaz.

“Topaz, I’m sure my wrist will heal even if it’s broken… but it would pain me to see you upset.”

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Topaz, realizing he was still gripping Karjen’s wrist, released his hold and sat up.

“Don’t touch me without warning. I could have broken your bones.”

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“But you seemed to be in pain.”

Mind your own business. Topaz scowled.

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“…Why are you so overly familiar with me?”

“I’m naturally gentle and affectionate,” Karjen replied brazenly. It was a statement that didn’t warrant a response.

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The pre-dawn light was faint. Topaz got out of bed and lit the lamp on the desk. He turned to see Karjen smoothing out the rumpled sheets. A reddish shadow flickered across his cheek.

But Topaz’s gaze wasn’t drawn to his picturesque cheek. It was fixed on Karjen’s wrist, where a livid red mark was blooming, already darkening to a purplish bruise.

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“…You bruise that easily?”

Topaz’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t used that much force, just enough to restrain him.

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“My skin is fair, so it shows easily. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Karjen smiled faintly, trying to hide his hand behind his back. Topaz grabbed his arm, pulling it forward and gripping his wrist.

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“Ow.”

As soon as he applied the slightest pressure, a soft moan escaped Karjen’s lips.

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“Why hide it if it hurts?”

“…It was my fault, and I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

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“Don’t presume. It was your fault. Why would I feel bad?”

Karjen looked up at him from the bed, his clear blue eyes seemingly piercing through him.

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“I was wrong.”

“…..”

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“I was wrong, Topaz.”

Topaz rummaged through a drawer in the desk, pulling out a round tin of white ointment. He scooped some out with his fingertip and applied it to Karjen’s wrist.

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It was a surprisingly strong and bony wrist beneath the pale skin. Karjen murmured as the pungent ointment was applied, “You’re so kind, Topaz.”

“You’re the only one who’d say something so ridiculous.”

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Despite the cold reply, Karjen smiled.

“Then I’ll say it even more.”

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“Be quiet while I apply this.”

“Does my mouth need to be quiet too, just because you’re applying ointment to my arm?”

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“Want me to put some on your lips, too?”

“I’ll be quiet.”

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Deciding the ointment wasn’t something he wanted to taste, Karjen obediently closed his mouth.