The Secrets We Keep

Episode 10: Meeting with the Remnants

I am sixteen years old now. For the past five years, Serf Seraphiel has taken Cyrus and I out to train in No Man's Land as frequently as he could, without us getting caught by King's guards. I've gotten exceptionally well at using my blood manipulation, decent in hand-to-hand combat, and I still loathe meditating. Kako has also been easier to deal with on most occasions, but during really stressful situations, I still struggle. After all, I am only half the demon he is.

King Varek also cracked down on punishments towards Mongrels more. Recently, there were rumors circulating that we have been more "resistant and rebellious" against the pure ones. It was propaganda. I hadn't seen anything of the sort, but I had my moments where I wished to become what they thought we were– violent, chaotic, and terrifying.

Maybe, one day, we really will fight back. That's what Serf Seraphiel trained us so hard for: in case we ever got the chance to.

My rear forcefully impacted the ground. Cyrus and I were sparring, but he managed to sweep his staff under my leg.

"Got you again, Nemmi." he smirked, holding his hand out to lift me up. Cy was nineteen and much taller now, around six foot. His hair was still a sun-kissed blonde, his eyes an even brighter blue, and the once small, muscular frame he possessed was now massive. He had become an expert in hand-to-hand combat, as he didn't have a fighting type ability.

His father was watching, trying to remain indifferent, but I could see the pride emanating from his face at seeing his son's progress. "Do it again," he said joyfully.

I grabbed Cy's hand and lifted myself up. "I think I need a break from being humiliated again," I laughed.

"I could help you with the strength aspect..." Kako said to me.

Not happening.

"Just putting it out there."

"What's he saying now?" Cy whispered sarcastically. "It's super obvious when he's talking to you, I can see it in your weird little demon eye," he joked, circling his finger in front of my face.

"He wants to help me practice sparring with you," I tell him.

Cyrus gets a crazy look on his face, cringing backward. "No- absolutely not, uh-uh. Not going to be engaging in any fighting with that thing."

"I already told him 'no'," I replied. "I have to learn to fight on my own." I bent down to dust myself off– pointlessly, really, because we practically wear rags for clothing. I look over at Serf Seraphiel, "Can we take a short break? I'm starving."

He nods and stands up. "It's getting rather dark. We should head inside the cave and warm up a bit with a fire."

Cy looks over to me, "Are you really hungry or are you just embarrassed that I kicked your ass?"

I mocked his face, pretending to laugh.

"Race you there!" I scream, already stepping into a sprint.

He was momentarily taken aback, but realizing I was running, started chasing after me. "Hey, way to play fair! You got a head start!" he calls out.

I beat him to the entrance, flopping hard onto the ground. "Are you embarrassed that I just kicked your ass?" I ask mockingly.

"Y-you literally cheated," he replied, out of breath.

"Should have had a quicker reaction time." I grabbed my bag of gear and dug through it, pulling out my canteen of water. I looked around the cave as I sipped, relaxing myself against the wall.

Over the years; Serf Seraphiel, Cyrus, and I made this place our home away from the district, going back only to show face so as to not be noticed missing. Our names were messily scraped into the cave walls and we even made a hiding spot for some of our gear, tucked inside of the surface. This was our refuge.