The day's hustle and bustle had faded into the tranquil embrace of evening by the time Ada was ready to call it a day. She locked up the café, waving goodbye to her colleagues, David and Lucy, who returned her gesture with warm smiles. The quiet of the evening wrapped around her like a comforting cloak as she turned toward the street.

Leaning casually against a nearby lamppost, Devereaux waited. The soft glow of the streetlamp illuminated him, highlighting his sharp features and casting long shadows behind him. His gaze never wavered as he watched Ada approach, her face lighting up with a warm smile that rivaled the glow of the evening light.

"You're early," Ada remarked, a hint of surprise lacing her tone as she stepped closer.

"Am I?" Devereaux replied, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles.

Again, his usual hooded cloak and veil were absent. Tonight, he wore a classic ebony trench coat, his hands tucked casually into its deep pockets. His dark hair was slightly tousled, a deliberate mess that suited him all too well. Despite the more grounded attire, Devereaux's presence still carried an air of timeless elegance, his movements deliberate and poised. Ada couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he seemed to embody both mystery and grace.

After their brief morning exchange, Devereaux had come to pick her up for the evening training session. It was exhausting to juggle the chaos of serving cups in the café by day and learning whatever arcane tricks the Dark Lord had up his sleeve by night. But Ada had little choice. She needed to tame the fragment of the snake's soul embedded in her body.

Ripping the parasite out would've been ideal—but that's not how bargains with dark entities worked. Once they marked you as their own, their claim was etched deep into your very soul, nearly impossible to scrape away. The fragment of Gan inside her would thrive as long as the serpent himself remained undefeated.

For now, her only option was to learn to negotiate with the fragment, to bend it to her will. And that required strength—strength she didn't yet possess. Until she could muster enough power to confront Gagagore and strike a bargain with him directly, this was her reality.

Ada sighed, dragging her tired feet toward Devereaux, who stood waiting under the glow of a streetlamp, his expression unreadable. Another long night lay ahead, and she could already feel the weight of it settling on her shoulders.

"Tired?" Devereaux asked gently, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed the weariness in Ada's posture.

They walked together down the quiet alleyway, the soft glow of streetlights casting long, shifting shadows that danced with each step. Ada rubbed the back of her neck absentmindedly, every movement revealing just how drained she felt.

"Mhm. Long day," she admitted with a soft sigh.

"But we need to practice," Devereaux reminded her, his tone kind but firm.

"I know." She glanced up at him, curiosity flickering in her tired eyes. "What are we doing today? That yoga trick you taught me really helped calm my nerves. I wouldn't mind more of that."

A faint smile played on Devereaux's lips. "I'm glad to hear that. But today, I was thinking we might try something a little more... dynamic."

Ada narrowed her eyes at him. "Dynamic? That sounds suspiciously exhausting."

"Swordplay," he said with a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Ada groaned dramatically. "Of course, it's swordplay. Because nothing says 'relaxation' like swinging a blade around after a ten-hour shift."

Devereaux chuckled softly. "You'll thank me later. Trust me."

***

Auden had always been better with a sword than Ada. She liked to pretend otherwise, teasing him mercilessly, but the truth was glaringly obvious whenever they sparred. At fifteen, Auden had been handed his first real blade, and despite her two decades of experience, Ada could barely keep herself from getting stabbed every time they faced off.

"You're holding back," she accused one afternoon, sweat dripping down her temples as she danced backward to avoid another one of his precise lunges.

"If I wasn't holding back," Auden said with a smirk, effortlessly twirling his blade, "you'd already be dead."

Her indignant scoff was cut short by the sharp clink of steel meeting steel as she parried his next strike. "That's rich coming from someone who couldn't tell a parry from a pirouette a year ago."

"Blame Zen," Auden quipped, sidestepping her counterattack with infuriating ease. "He's a menace with the training stick."

Ada rolled her eyes but couldn't deny the truth. Zen's "training stick" wasn't just a wooden sparring tool; it was a source of endless bruises and, apparently, Auden's meteoric rise in skill. The man had a knack for drilling perfection into his students, using pressure to craft diamonds. Auden was living proof of that.

Their sparring had always been playful, though. Even as Auden's skills surpassed hers, he never lost his boyish grin or the way his laughter rang out when he successfully disarmed her.

This time was no different. With a flick of his wrist, Auden sent her sword clattering to the ground. Ada froze, glaring at him with mock fury as he leveled his blade at her. "Yield?"

"Never," she declared, darting forward and tackling him to the ground in a blur of limbs and indignation. They wrestled like children, her knee digging into his side as he tried—and failed—to keep her pinned.

"Your swordsmanship is questionable, but your dirty fighting is impeccable," he wheezed between laughs.

She grinned triumphantly, finally rolling off him and lying on the grass, both of them panting and grinning up at the sky.

"I'm glad. I have a very capable warrior to stand guard beside me."

Back then, she had chalked up Auden's skill to Zen's grueling methods, even thanking the relentless mentor for shaping her brother into a swordsman far beyond his years. But now, years later, with Death's Kiss seared into her memory, Ada knew better.

It hadn't been Zen.

"Earth to Ada," Devereaux's voice, like a gentle whisper carried by the breeze, echoed through the clearing.

With his amber eyes ablaze and still in a defensive stance Dark Lord observed her with a patient intensity. His movements were swift and precise, a mesmerising display of anticipation and reaction. Ada gritted her teeth, determination etched on her face. She felt the energy pulsating within her, unpredictable yet potent. Her grip around the hilt of her sword tightened and she swayed it in the air unleashing her spells, aiming to strike him down. The tall grass beneath her feet rustled with each step like an eager audience awaiting to applaud her success. But the Dark Lord was a force to be reckoned with. He deftly sidestepped, seemingly appearing and disappearing like a phantom.

The lake nearby reflected the dusky sky, adding a mystical aura to the training ground. The rhythmic sound of water lapping against the shore harmonised with the cadence of their movements. Leaves rustled and the scent of earth and pine permeated the air. Ada's feet pattered the clearing as she swirled around and pivoted, leaving traces of magic in her wake. With each failed attempt, she grew more resolute. She had once been the finest in this game. She was trained to be a Shadow Warrior from a very young age so the moves were still with her. Unless for the missing piece of her soul and the fragment of Gan's soul she bored in the gap she would have faced the Dark Lord better.

She missed Auden, their time together, and the feeling of being a respected mage like the rest of the Romersais. But she knew that nobody would accept her or even acknowledge her existence as a mage anymore. She had already made the mistake of trusting the evil-dealing with the dark. Tragically, she couldn't save her brother from walking down the same treacherous path.

"Let the energy flow, but guide it," Devereaux's voice reached her again, a constant reassurance in the dance of magic. "Feel the power. It should be an extension of yourself. Nothing hostile."

"It is hostile Dev. Those dark powers ain't cooperating at all." Ada complained her breath came short as her magical assault intensified. She swished her sward, the energies around her spun into a wild tempest, colliding with the very fabric of the clearing. Swirls of White and Black in the curved shape of the blade and crackled through the air, striking the wilderness with unrelenting force. Trees quivered, and the earth beneath trembled as if protesting the uncontrolled torrent.

And in the next moment they were coming back particularly in Ada's direction, like a wave in the ocean in a storm thirsty to gulp down whatever in its way. Devereaux, watched as the magical tempest threatened to consume the serene landscape. "Control it. Don't let them act on their own."

He saw the struggle in Ada's eyes, the sheer force of her untamed power. In a swift, decisive motion, he stepped forward, his cloak swirling as he entered the maelstrom. He reached out, his hands enveloping Ada's. With a dancer's grace, guided Ada from her unbridled power, redirecting it away from the clearing.

Their eyes locked, his amber eyes bore into hers, a silent assurance. "It's your sword and you're the one wielding it. Not the other way around."

"I'm tired." she responded letting herself to dissolve in his warm hold.

The clearing veiled once again in tranquillity as they settled onto the grass. The air still hummed with residual energy, Devereaux, his cloak settling like a shadow around him, seated next to the girl nestled in the grass, looking up at the darkening sky, hues of dusk reflecting in her sapphire eyes.

Her power flows though now were erratic at times when they should be gentle and constant.

They'd betray her when it was an emergency, setting off a blast when she least expected it. She marvelled at how her energy had held on, especially during the night she fought Gagagore and Auden . She had neglected her powers at a time when she should have been honing them. Once classified as a mage, one needed to train their magical abilities; just being born with incredible core energy did not essentially mean you'd be a great mage. It was no excuse that she happened to carry the essence of a dark entity within her.

"I just want Auden back. I want everything to go back to normal." She sighed, the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. "I never signed up for this. All I wanted was a peaceful life."

"No one signs up for destiny, Ada. But we are entwined in its threads nonetheless." The Dark Lord's expression softened, his gaze distant yet empathetic. "It's still a little chaotic but fireworks can be fun too, just not when they're aimed at the wrong places."

Ada gave him a sidelong glance. To her as well this whole ordeal have felt more like she was a three year old trying to make fireworks. With her dormant powers awry it was hard to stay motivated but she could not give up. On top of that the enthusiasm of the enigmatic Dark Lord perplexed her. He had convinced her to live, to live for Auden , to live for justice. Her aims were always halfway, and if it weren't for the Dark Lord, who had become her mentor now just the way he used to be for Auden years back, she might have been dead in the action already.

"True." She sighed, returning her gaze back to the sky. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it a sense of introspection.

"Take it easy. I know it's hard with a piece that snake in you. But so you know, it is the same weakness we need to focus on."