The Secrets We Keep

Episode 7: Control

Due to my betrothal to Cyrus, Serf Seraphiel was obligated to take me into his home. After the ordeal, the King's guards investigated what had happened to my father. Most of the evidence was already consumed by the flames, save for some clear signs of his frequent use of witchcraft. It was concluded that the use of dark magic was likely the cause of the house fire, and now the King needed a new Mongrel with blood manipulation to either bribe or break into submission. There was a looming threat that I might be next, once my abilities fully matured.

I wasn't safe. Serf Seraphiel and Cyrus were the only ones who knew about Kako and my demonic lineage. That same night, I had broken down into a panic and confessed everything. Serf Seraphiel warned that we couldn't let anyone find out—it would place all of our lives at risk. If I were forced to work for the King, someone would quickly uncover the truth.

Despite the gravity of my revelation, Serf Seraphiel remained remarkably calm, likely due to his knowledge of lineage and the original Celestials. He explained that demonic possession was more common in the early days of Mongrel history and understood that my emotions were to blame for Kako's influence. He also mentioned that, though I couldn't hear Kako's voice constantly, it didn't mean he couldn't affect my decisions.

"You see, Demons have the ability to coax you into doing their dirty work without you realizing it," he informed me. "They're powerful enough to push your thoughts in a certain direction, making you believe you're the one making the decisions when you're not. I presume that's why you thought to burn the house." His words left me feeling hopeless, but he promised to help me learn to control it. "Discernment is key when distinguishing between your thoughts and his."

That's exactly what we planned to do today. Serf Seraphiel mentioned a place we could go where the King's guards wouldn't see us training—but it was dangerous. Not far from the outskirts of the Veil District was No Man's Land, a sanctuary where Mongrels had gathered centuries ago to avoid capture. Their skills were formidable enough that the King struggled to seize it.

We had to be extremely cautious—not only to avoid getting caught entering No Man's Land but also to ensure we weren't recognized as Mongrels from the Veil District. The Mongrels in No Man's Land distrusted us, believing we were too weak for submitting to the King's punishments. Trusting outsiders had been fatal to them in the past, and they were determined to avoid repeating that mistake.

Given the risk, I would have preferred to stay in the Veil– if my existence didn't endanger us all.

We packed everything needed for a few days, including weapons and sparring tools. Serf Seraphiel believed sparring would provoke my emotions, helping me practice control. We also changed into appropriate clothing for the exercise.

Cyrus lent me some of his mother's belongings, with his father's permission. Her clothes were still baggy on me but fit well enough. I donned a pair of old, stained garments with stretchy fabric. When I emerged, Cyrus and Serf Seraphiel were collecting the final items.

Amidst the chaos of recent days, I hadn't realized how much Cyrus had grown. He was much taller, his blonde curls now brushing past his ears, and his frame had filled out with muscle. As I looked up, his bright blue eyes met mine.

"Ah, Nemmi—are you ready?" he asked, smiling.

Then I noticed it... a pimple on his cheek. "Eww," I exclaimed. "Eww! Cy, you have a pimple!"

His expression flattened. "Shut up, Nemmi. I'm fourteen now. It'll happen to you too." I feigned a loud gagging sound, turning my head dramatically. As I turned back, he was standing inches away from me, the same dumb expression on his face, with his hand up to my forehead. Taking a deep breath, he flicked his finger hard– causing me to jolt back.