The fort's repairs had been ongoing for three days. The sound of collapsed stone walls being restacked began before dawn. One stone after another, the shadows of demon-kind carrying rocks dissolved into black against the ash-grey sky of the Caldra Mountains. Ashna was among them. Lifting heavy stones, stacking them, then moving on to the next. That repetition was all she could do now. When the training grounds' wall came into view, her feet stopped. For three days, she had tried. Again and again. To cast magic. If she could produce flame during that battle, she should be able to now——every time she raised her right hand with that thought, images came behind her eyelids. Golden hair. A face with eyes wide open, falling forward. Blood flowing from her mouth. A body that no longer moved. When she tried to gather magical power in her palm, her fingers trembled. The flame would not come. Her emotions fractured and scattered somewhere. Once more. She turned her right hand toward the wall. Steadied her breathing. Concentrated——the female warrior's face came again. Burned into the back of her eyelids, unmoving. Her hand's trembling would not stop. A third time. Her legs gave way and she sank to the ground. A young demon soldier passing nearby saw her. Their eyes met. Without pausing even a second, he quickened his pace and left. No encouragement, no mocking laughter——only the sound of his footsteps fading away. Could she function as a warrior? To that question, Ashna had no answer this morning either. In the shadow of the rock wall at the training grounds' entrance, purple hair appeared for just a moment. Zeerie was standing at a distance——by the time Ashna noticed, she was already gone. --- At midday meal, nearly thirty gathered in the dining hall surrounded by stone walls. Ashna took a bowl of dried meat and mountain vegetable broth and sat at the edge of a table. The Elgenholst Fort's dining hall remained half-destroyed, part of its roof missing, and afternoon light slanted through the gap. Repairs prioritized the outer walls; the dining hall ceiling remained for later. The murmur of voices filled the space. Ashna had noticed. For three days, the air in this fort had changed. Since the night sixty-three died, the direction of whispers had shifted. They were slowly gathering, pointing toward something. It was Rokven who stood. A man in his forties with old burn scars on his right arm——a veteran. He was said to have the second-most influence in the fort after Zeerie, and his voice carried a weight that made younger soldiers naturally obey. He had stood at the front of every battle, fighting since before the Elgenholst community reached its current size. "[serious]Listen," The dining hall fell silent. "[serious]The hero party knew the fort's location precisely. Not the kind of accuracy explained by scout tracking. Someone told them——that's what this is," His voice was quiet. Not a shout. That made it heavier. "[serious]Someone in this fort brought human texts. It would be no surprise if they were drawn to human culture and maintained some connection with the human side," Eyes gathered. Thirty pairs of eyes turned in the same direction. Toward Ashna's seat. Ashna could not move, bowl in hand. Her body refused both standing and remaining seated. "[angry]Do you have evidence?" Grimhart's voice. He had not risen from his seat. Speaking quietly, still holding his dish. Silver hair fell to his shoulders. Gold and purple heterochromatic eyes fixed on Rokven directly. "[serious]Isn't it strange that there's no evidence? Those who know the fort's location are limited. Among them, those with connections to humans——" "[cold]Without evidence, this is meaningless," "[serious]You were human once too," Rokven's tone shifted. "[serious]Even if you became demon-kind through the rebirth ritual, if you were originally human, it's not strange to have connections to the human side. You too, Grimhart," Grimhart said nothing. "[cold]Ashna," The name fell quietly into the dining hall. "[cold]Sixty people died because of you," Ashna searched for words of denial. She found none. Because she herself had no certainty. Whether she could say with absolute conviction that she was not a spy. Reading that book——trying to learn the human language. It was all true, and whether there was a connection in it——she didn't know, but…… The demon-kind around her began to move quietly. One lifted his dish and moved to another table. Then another. Then another. Without a word, the circle of people around Ashna dissolved. Physical distance carved an answer clearer than any words. Only Grimhart did not move. He remained seated across from her, set down his dish, and became one of two left isolated across an empty table. --- After leaving the dining hall, the two naturally made their way deeper into the fort. The collapse sector——the abandoned district where the northern side of the fort had crumbled along with the bedrock itself. Repairs had not caught up; no one used it. Afternoon light slanted through gaps in the fallen ceiling. Rubble accumulated, and part of the wall leaned at an angle. A place where no one else came. Perhaps for that reason, their feet naturally led them there. Ashna leaned her back against the wall and sat on the rubble. She hugged her knees. Grimhart leaned against a wall a short distance away, arms crossed. He was silent. After a long silence, he spoke only once. "[serious]You are not wrong," That was all. Ashna looked up. "[sad]If I'm not wrong, why doesn't anyone sit beside me," Her voice trembled. She did not want to cry. But tears came first. The back of her nose ached, and her breath caught. "[sad]I read that book because I wanted to understand humans. Not because I had a connection. But——I don't know how to prove that. And yet……" The rest of her words would not come. Grimhart did not answer. He remained standing, arms crossed. He did not open his mouth. But he did not leave either. After a while, he moved silently from the wall and sat down on the rubble beside Ashna. Their shoulders were close enough to touch. The two looked up at the sky visible through the hole in the collapsed ceiling, in the same direction. It was clear. The summer sky of the Caldra Mountains, with thin white clouds. There were no words. Grimhart's shoulder was right beside Ashna's. Both of them knew it. Neither pointed it out. It was like the night of the bonfire three days ago, when Grimhart had silently brought her a bowl of water. The weight of wordless presence——simply being beside someone. Ashna wiped her tears. She continued looking at the sky. --- Night came. After the sound of the fort's repair work ceased and people withdrew to various places, Ashna could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, it came. Golden hair. A fallen face. Blood flowing from her mouth. A body that no longer moved. It would not fade. For three days, it had not faded once. She gathered scrap wood and made a small bonfire. At the corner of the fort's remaining wall, a place no one came to. The flame wavered. Mountain night wind passed through, and the fire tilted slightly. On her lap lay a book. The Star God's Record——the book Ventzel had handed her with a laugh. The only thing brought out from Tuulya. The cover bore scorch marks, and the edge was slightly damaged. She had pressed it against her body while running through fire that morning, so it held a little warmth. Ashna did not open it. She stared at the cover. The thought came: she could burn this. As long as this book existed, she would be seen as evidence of familiarity with humans. If she threw it into the bonfire, one basis for suspicion of being a spy would disappear. Her companions might return. Rokven's spear might turn elsewhere. Her right hand grasped the book's spine. Slowly, she extended her arm toward the flame. Heat reached her fingertips. Her hand stopped. The reason was not logic. It was a voice. A voice rising from the depths of memory——Ventzel's voice, that of a hoarse old man. Your eyes look far. That is not a bad thing. She could not pull her arm back. She could not throw it into the flame either. Her hand would not move in either direction. She returned the book to her lap. She pressed both hands against the cover. She did not cry. She did not laugh. She looked at the bonfire's flame. The flame wavered. The question of what she was had no answer. If she tried to be demon-kind, this book would be in the way. If she tried to understand humans, she would drift from her companions. She stood in a place that was neither. That place had no name. It was quiet. The fort's night was quiet because the bedrock absorbed sound. Only the crackling of the bonfire was heard, regular and steady. Footsteps came. Soundless footsteps. There was only presence, and when Ashna looked up, someone was already standing on the other side of the bonfire. It was Zeerie. Her long purple hair was bound in a single tie, and her silver eyes caught the bonfire's light. The black horns at both temples dissolved into darkness. A white bandage was wrapped around her left arm. The wound from that battle. Yet her posture did not waver. She sat quietly beside the fire. For a while, the two watched the bonfire in silence. "[serious]Were you going to burn it," Zeerie asked. Her voice was low and calm. Ashna paused before answering. "[sad]I tried to burn it. But I couldn't," "[gentle]That is good," Zeerie said that. Nothing more, nothing less——just those words, placed there. "[serious]I too made many misjudgments when I was young. I let companions die. If I had not chosen that battle, there would be those still living——the list is endless——and it does not fade even now," Ashna looked up. She had never heard Zeerie speak of herself before. Zeerie continued, still watching the bonfire. "[serious]Yet I continued to stand because of one thing. I wanted to create a world where demon-kind could love, protect, and be mourned just as humans do. That alone," "[serious]Do not forget——to create that world, we need those who know humans," Silver eyes looked at Ashna. They were quiet eyes. Not the kind that imposed. Simply looking. "[serious]That you did not burn that book——to me, that is your answer," Ashna could say nothing. Zeerie's words fell into her chest. Slowly, all the way to the bottom. The reason she could not burn it became words for the first time. Ventzel's voice. Your eyes look far——the meaning of it connected with Zeerie's words in that moment, and something overflowed from her throat. A cry came out. Not a sob. It overflowed like a dam breaking. Sound came out. Her shoulders shook. She had cried the night of that battle too, but that was a sob. Tonight was different. It would not stop. Holding the book to her chest with both hands, Ashna cried aloud. Zeerie did not move. She did not pull her close. She simply remained beside her. On the same ground, facing the same direction. That was all. That stillness was heavier to Ashna than anything else. Not being supported——but standing in the same place. That alone was what Zeerie conveyed. How long she cried, she did not know. When the tears stopped, Ashna held the Star God's Record to her chest again. The cover had grown slightly warm from her body heat. In that moment, the bonfire's flame wavered slightly. An orange light stretched upward. There was no wind. The flame swayed with a soft breath, then returned to its former size. Magic had not activated. But to Ashna, it felt as though something inside her had begun to return, just a little. Her emotions had moved, slightly. That was all. "[serious]Sleep well," Zeerie stood. Her bandaged left arm moved once. "[serious]Do not forget——you are still here," She disappeared into the darkness without a sound. Ashna remained alone before the bonfire. Holding the Star God's Record