Chapter sixteen: Blades and Shadows

“Fen?” Emily’s voice carried down from the stairs. “Where is Cid?”

Fenrona looked up from where she rocked Fenrir in her arms, her silver hair loose across her shoulders. “He said there are a few things he must do before the exams.”

Nyx, clutching little Fern with pride, chimed in. “He went to buy clothing and armor for everyone.”

Emily stepped down, her expression softening. “Give her to me, Nyx. Go play outside with your sister for a while.” She patted the girl’s head gently.

Fenrona smiled faintly. “She wanted to hold her.”

Emily raised a brow. “Clothing for the Divisions?”

“Yes,” Fenrona said. “He knows a man who can weave protections into fabric. Strong spells, strong enough to replace armor. He wants the Divisions to have a look—something distinct, something that inspires fear and respect.” Her voice grew quieter. “And he took Jun with him.”

Emily frowned. “Why Jun?”

“She told me she had something to discuss with him.”

The morning streets were already busy when Cid and Jun entered the spellweaver’s shop. Magic clung to the air, humming softly through the garments on display. Cid glanced at Jun, who looked uneasy, her hand brushing the edge of a cloak. “So,” he asked, “what did you want to tell me?”

Jun hesitated. “Me and Briks… things at home aren’t good. I thought I’d have to go back to work.”

Cid’s brow tightened. “Is thirty million enough?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Thirty million,” he repeated. “Enough for you to stay here. Enough so you don’t ever have to work again, unless you want to.”

“Cid, is this some kind of joke?”

“You’ve known me for half a year now. Do I look like a man who jokes?” His tone was steady, almost sharp. “You are important to Fen. To my children. To me. If you want to leave, leave—but if it’s money holding you back, then I’ll take that weight away.”

Jun’s throat tightened. “Thirty million… that’s more than enough. And truth is, I like being with all of you. You remind me of my old party, before Briks. A family.”

“Then it’s settled,” Cid said. “When we’re finished here, we’ll go to your home and transfer it.”

“…How much do you even have?” she asked cautiously.

“Four hundred and seventy-four million.”

Jun stared at him as if trying to measure the truth. “How much hunting have you done?”

“Enough,” he said coldly. “Enough to fuel what’s coming.”

The shopkeeper returned, his arms heavy with folded garments. “Each piece is reinforced with four protective wards. They’ll replace armor entirely.”

Cid dropped the payment without hesitation. “Perfect.”

Later, they arrived at Jun’s home. Briks looked up as the door opened, his expression tightening. Monic and Charls were there too, along with two children. Jun smiled nervously. “I’m back. And I brought a friend.”

“Hello,” Cid said, stepping inside.

“Kid,” Briks muttered. “We need to talk.”

“Jun already told me,” Cid replied, handing a bundle to Charls. “Your new clothing. It’ll serve you well, now that you’re Division.”

Charls’s eyes widened. “Thanks. Come on, everyone, let’s give them space.”

The room emptied until only Briks, Jun, and Cid remained.

“My son says you gave him a job,” Briks began. “Didn’t say what. And second—I need my wife back at work. We can’t afford to sit idle.”

“He’s a leader,” Cid said simply. “One of my Division commanders. We’re building something that protects this kingdom. You can ask your wife—she knows it’s real.”

“And the pay?”

“I don’t pay them in coin. I give them what they need—soul-bonded weapons, enchanted gear, security. That’s worth more than gold.”

“And Jun?”

Cid’s voice hardened. “For what she’s done for us, I’ll pay. Whether she stays or not. She’s too important to my wife, to my children.”

Briks leaned back, uneasy. “…How much?”

“Thirty million.”

Briks’s eyes widened. “That much, and we’d never have to work again.”

Cid shrugged. “Consider it repayment. You took care of Emily when I couldn’t.”

Briks let out a long sigh. “I won’t stop you. If you’re willing to give that much, I won’t argue.” He passed his card across the table. Moments later, the transfer was done.

Jun touched Briks’s arm gently. “I’ll keep helping them. I want to.”

Briks said nothing, only nodded.

When Cid returned home, the cries of the newborns met him at the door. Fenrona sat by the hearth with Fenrir in her arms, exhaustion on her face. “He only stops crying when you hold him,” she whispered.

Cid lifted his son gently, cradling him with surprising tenderness. “Stubborn boy. Don’t make your sister cry too.”

On the table lay folded clothing. Alpha stepped inside from the balcony, her long coat trailing. “I thought your wife could use the help, so I came.”

“Thank you,” Cid said. “There’s one for you too. Try it.”

Moments later, Fenrona, Emily, and Alpha returned in their new suits. The fabric shimmered faintly with the weight of its wards.

“It’s so light,” Emily murmured, flexing her arms. “Feels like I could move without restraint.”

“It’s strange,” Alpha admitted. “But strong.”

Fenrona kissed Cid’s cheek. “It looks good. Thank you, love.”

“You bought one for yourself too, didn’t you?” Emily asked.

Cid nodded. “And I need to tell you something. I’m going back to Moonlight.”

Fenrona’s voice shook. “Moonlight? Why?”

“I need weapons. For all of you. For myself. I’ll return in a week—just before the exams.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Then I’ll come with you,” Emily said quickly.

“No.” His voice cut sharp. “This, I must do alone.”

Emily’s jaw tightened. “…Fine.” She turned and went down into the basement without another word.

Fenrona reached for his arm, her violet eyes trembling. “It’s alright. She’ll forgive you. Just… be safe.”

“I will.” He kissed her forehead.

“One more thing,” he said. “Can I take your sword? I promised Clain I’d find him a new wielder. And I have.”

Fenrona hesitated, then handed it over. “Don’t frighten her.”

Cid carried the blade downstairs. Emily looked up as he entered.

“Take it.” He tossed the weapon to her.

She caught it, startled. “What? Why?”

“I promised him a wielder worthy of his spirit. That’s you, Emy.”

“How do I even talk to him?” she asked.

“You’ll figure it out.” He turned and left without another word.

Emily stared at the blade, her lips parting. “…Be safe,” she whispered.

“I will,” came Cid’s voice from the door. Fenrona stood there, her silver hair falling loose around her, watching him as if he might vanish forever.

“Stay safe, love,” she whispered back.

And then, he was gone.

Night fell heavy over the White Desert. The wind whistled over the dunes as Cid crouched beside a small fire, the flames clawing against the darkness. He rubbed his temples, eyes fixed on the shifting sand.

“It’s been a while since I was alone in this desert,” he muttered. “I had a theory I wanted to test.”

He drew Elga, her steel catching the firelight. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped her in particles—shrouding both her and himself until their flows blurred. The desert fell away.

Darkness swallowed him whole. A void. Empty. Silent.

“My core…” Cid whispered.

A faint voice, soft as breath, drifted through the void. “What do you want from me?”

A blue light flickered in the distance. As he stepped toward it, the shape of a woman emerged, her outline haloed in the glow.

“Elga?” Cid asked.

“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “How did you bring me here?”

“I covered you in particles, as if we shared the same body,” he explained. “I thought… maybe it would mimic a core connection.”

Her gaze lingered. “Interesting. But why?”

Cid’s eyes hardened. “When you talked to my wife, you said I was more than a monster. What did you mean?”

Elga’s voice grew sharper. “I see souls. It’s a Northern technique. One day, I’ll teach it to your wife. When I looked at yours…” She faltered. “It was cold. Too cold. Even demons carry warmth. Even curses.”

Cid’s fists clenched. “So that’s it? Nothing more?”

Her expression darkened. “You don’t know what you are, do you?”

His eyes narrowed. “So you do know something.”

Elga’s form began to fade, the light dimming. Her final words echoed in the void: “You are more than just a curse.”

Then she was gone, and Cid jolted awake by the fire, sweat cold on his brow.

“More than just a curse…” he whispered. “What could it mean?”

For three days he wandered the desert, hunting soul-bonded weapons. Some he bought at absurd prices, others he stole from smugglers too weak to guard them. By the end, he carried three gifts for his chosen Divisions: a northern longsword, Ivar, for Alpha; a black polearm from the dark mountain for Charls, called Ember; and a colossal greatsword, Hali, for Johny.

“I have theirs,” Cid muttered as he tightened the wrappings. “Now for mine. To Moonlight.”

He set off at a dead run, each step cracking the sand. A trail of dust split behind him as the ruins of his old home rose from the desert.

He stopped where his house once stood, nothing left but stone and ash.

“This place…” His voice broke with memory. “I swore I’d take revenge. But not now. Not yet. My family comes first.”

He walked to the village’s heart, to the ruins he once crept into as a child. He remembered watching boys try—and fail—to lift the swords buried there. He had failed too.

“Back then, I didn’t know what they were,” he muttered, clawing through rubble. At last, he uncovered them: two simple katanas, weathered but untouched by time. “According to the scrolls, you are the swords of the Shadow. Forged from his own magic, from particles themselves. Soulless weapons… waiting for someone who can feed them what they lack.”

He gripped the hilts. They refused him, heavy as mountains.

“As I thought.” He steadied his breath. “Let’s try this.”

He wrapped the blades in particles. Again, the desert vanished, replaced by his core—dark and silent. But this time, two swords lay glowing at his feet, and the void lit with a burning purple.

A voice stirred behind him. “So… finally. Someone took them.”

Cid spun. A man stood there, tall, with black hair and piercing purple eyes. His presence pressed like a weight on Cid’s chest.

“Who are you?” Cid demanded.

“The previous wielder,” the man said calmly.

“The Shadow…”

“Yes.”

Cid swallowed, questions burning his throat. “In your scrolls, you wrote that your weapons would sleep until one worthy came. But then you vanished. What happened?”

The Shadow’s gaze pierced him. “I did my task. I was the Shadow, and my time ended. That is all.”

“That’s not an answer,” Cid growled.

“You’ll understand when it’s your turn.” The man’s form flickered, fading into the void. His final words lingered. “We will meet again.”

The vision shattered. Cid blinked into the desert, both katanas clenched in his fists. Their weight no longer resisted him—they hummed with power, alive in his grip.

“Why do they all answer me the same way?” he muttered. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. Not yet.” He sheathed them across his back and stood. “I need to run. The exams won’t wait.”

Through the desert he sprinted, night and day blurring into one. When at last the capital’s walls rose from the horizon, a day remained before the exams. Cid arrived with weapons, resolve, and a question carved into his heart.

What did it mean to be more than a curse?

Cid entered the capital just as dusk painted the towers in fading gold. The familiar streets felt heavier, quieter, as though the city itself waited for the trials to come. On the way home, he crossed paths with Monic.

“So, you’re back,” she said, studying him, eyes flicking to the long bundle strapped across his back. “And you brought presents.”

“Yes.” Cid’s voice was calm, but his steps didn’t falter. “Call Charls and Alpha to my house. Tonight.”

Monic nodded. “I’ll tell them.”

Cid pushed open his door. Inside, the soft cries of the twins filled the air. Emily and Fenrona were trying to soothe them, exhaustion written into every motion.

“Love,” Fenrona breathed the moment she saw him, holding Fenrir close. “You’re back.”

Cid crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple before gently taking Fenrir from her.

“Give him to me, honey.”

Relief washed over her face as she surrendered the boy.

“Shhh…” Cid murmured, rocking him gently. “Stubborn boy, father’s back. You can rest now. Thank you for protecting your mother.”

Fenrir’s cries slowed. His small fists unclenched, his breathing softened, and at last he slept.

“Thank you, my love,” Fenrona whispered, kissing Cid’s cheek. “It’s been a long week.”

“Yes,” Cid said, laying the boy down beside Fern. He handed Elga back to Fenrona. “But I have what I needed. And thank you, honey, for lending her to me.”

Fenrona’s tail flicked softly as she watched him. “So… you truly got everything?”

“Yes.” He eased onto the couch with her at his side. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to relax.

Emily smirked as she headed upstairs. “You two lovebirds take your time. I’ll calm the little wolves.”

“Tell them to come here,” Cid said. “I want to see them.”

When Emily returned with the girls, Fenrona had already drifted asleep on his shoulder.

“Father,” Nyx whispered.

“Papa,” Adel chimed.

“Dad,” Dalin said, tugging at his sleeve.

“Not so loud,” Cid murmured. “You’ll wake your mother.”

But they ignored him, piling into his lap. “We want to sleep with you too!”

He sighed, smiling faintly. “Fine, fine. But be quiet.”

One by one, the three curled against him and dozed off.

A few hours later the door creaked open. Jun entered with Charls, Alpha, and Johny. Fenrona stirred awake.

“Hello,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Oh gods… what happened here?”

“They wanted to sleep like you,” Cid said, chuckling softly. “Come on, girls, wake up.”

“Papa…” they groaned, rubbing their eyes before scampering off to play.

Cid rose, his expression turning serious. “Listen, all of you. Emy, you have Clain. Fen, you have Elga. But the rest of you have been fighting empty-handed. That’s why I left.”

He moved to the table. Three weapons lay across it, their aura heavy.

“Ivar,” he said, lifting the black-bladed longsword. “Forged in the Northern realms. Alpha, this is yours. With your gift for fire and ice, this blade may let you reach stage five magic when you master it.”

Her eyes widened as she took it, feeling the weight hum in her grip.

“For Charls, Ember.” Cid placed the black polearm into his hands. “Forged in the heart of the dark mountains. It will steady your rage and sharpen your strikes.”

Charls swallowed hard, nodding.

“And last… Johny. Hali, a colossal greatsword, born from the deep ocean stones. It will test you—and if you can master it, it will crush any who stand against you.”

Johny grinned, gripping the massive hilt.

“And you?” Johny asked. “What weapon do you wield?”

Cid unsheathed the twin katanas strapped across his back. Their steel glimmered with a faint purple pulse. “These. Soulless blades. Forged by the Shadow himself. They once resisted me. Not anymore.”

Emily’s breath caught. “Moonlight’s swords… The ones you could never lift as a child. What changed?”

Cid’s expression darkened. “I understood what they wanted.”

The tension broke when Fenrona leaned forward, her smile soft. “Let’s spend this day together—before the exams.”

And so they did. They shared food, stories, and laughter, the firelight dancing on their faces. For one night, they were not hunters, nor cursed children, nor heirs to burdens too great to name. They were a family.

By nightfall, the others left. Emily guided the little wolves to bed. Cid carried Fenrir, while Fenrona cradled Fern.

Later, as they lay down together, Fenrona rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“You’re ready for tomorrow, love?”

“I am,” he said, brushing her silver hair back.

She smiled faintly. “I like listening to your heart. It’s proof that you love me.”

His hand tightened around her waist. “Always.”

Her breathing slowed, drifting into sleep. Cid kissed her forehead and let his eyes close, knowing tomorrow would mark the start of a new journey—one that would test not only his blades, but his soul.