Due to my betrothal to Cyrus, Serf Seraphiel was under authority to take me into his home. After the ordeal, the King's guards looked into what had happened to my father. Most of the evidence had already burned away, besides some obvious signs of him frequently using witchcraft. It was concluded that the use of dark magic was the most possible cause of the house fire and the King now had to retrieve a new Mongrel with blood manipulation to bribe or torture into submission. There was a possibility of me being next, once my abilities mature.

I wasn’t safe. Serf Seraphiel and Cyrus were the only ones who had any knowledge about Kako and my demonic lineage. That same night, I had broken down into a panic and confessed everything. His father warned that we couldn’t let anyone find out– it would put all of our lives at risk. If I was forced to work for the King, someone would figure it out quickly. 

Serf Seraphiel was rather calm at my revelation, but I believed it was because he was knowledgeable on lineage and the original Celestials. He told me demonic possession was more common at the beginning of Mongrel history and knew that my emotions were to blame for Kako having the power to take over. 

He had also mentioned that even though I could not hear Kako’s voice all the time, it didn’t mean he wasn’t able to influence my decisions. 

“You see, Demons have the ability to coax you into doing their dirty work without you even knowing,” he had told me. “They are powerful enough to push your thoughts into a certain direction, making you think you are the one making the decisions when you really aren’t. I presume that is what gave you the idea to burn the house.” I felt hopeless after he told me that, but then he vowed to help me learn to control it. “Discernment is key when trying to figure out if it’s you or him.”

That’s exactly what we planned to do today. Serf Seraphiel mentioned there is a place we could go to train, somewhere where the King's guards wouldn’t see us… but it was dangerous. Not too far from the outskirts of Veil District was No Man’s Land. It was a place where Mongrels gathered centuries ago to avoid being captured by the King, and because of the skill in their abilities, the King didn’t have the resources to capture it.

We had to be extremely careful. One, to not get caught on our way into No Man’s Land– and two, to not be noticed as Mongrels from the Veil District. Mongrels in No Man’s Land didn’t trust us because they believed we were too weak, easily submitting to the King when we were punished. Giving into a false sense of loyalty between us had proved fatal to them in the past, and they didn’t dare repeat that mistake.

I would have been completely fine with staying in the Veil, if it wasn’t for the fact that my existence was putting the three of us in extreme danger.

We started packing everything we needed to last a few days– including weapons and sparring tools. Serf Seraphiel said sparring would cause my emotions to spike, helping me practice managing it. The three of us also changed into suitable clothing to spar in. 

Cyrus gave me quite a few of his mother’s belongings, with his father’s permission. His mother’s clothes were still baggy on me, but fit enough that I could wear them. I threw on a pair of old, stained clothes with stretchy material.

When I came out, Cyrus and Serf Seraphiel were gathering the last few items needed. Among all the chaos from the last few days, I hadn’t even noticed how tall Cyrus had gotten. His hair was longer now with blonde curls going past his ears. I glance at his arms, as he picks up some bread, and see small muscles contract. When I look back up to his face, his bright blue eyes glance over at me.

“Ah, Nemmi– you ready?” he says, smiling.

Then I see it…. a pimple on his cheek. “Eww.” I say. “Eww!!! Cy, you have a pimple!” 

His face deadpans. “Shut up, Nemmi. I’m fourteen years old now. It’s gonna happen to you too.” I turn my head to the side and start to fake gag, loudly. As I turn back toward him, he’s already standing right in front of me with his hand up to my forehead. He breathed in deeply, and then he flicked his finger hard– causing me to jerk back.

“Oww!” I shout. “You little jerk!” 

Serf Seraphiel starts chuckling. I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips, knowing it was my first in days. “Alright, enough bickering,” he tells us. “We need to head out while there’s still light."

We moved as quietly as possible, hiding behind buildings and trees to scope the area with every chance we had. All we needed to do was make it without one of the King’s guards noticing us leaving. It was approximately a forty minute journey, but once we reached the edge of the Veil district, we spotted a group of six guards. Serf Seraphiel motioned us behind a bush to our left, and we all ducked.

“...Yea, that bitch was feisty,” one of the guard’s said. They were a bit far from us, but we could still hear parts of their conversation. It helped that they were talking so loudly.

The other guards started laughing and another spoke up, “During one of my assignments to the King’s district, my group found a female just like that. She acted like we were beneath her, so had to teach her some manners– roughed her up real good.”

I grinded my teeth. Even though I hadn’t heard their whole conversation, I picked up enough to know that they were scoundrels. All of the King’s guards thought they could do whatever they pleased because of their position of authority.

“We may have to use some of our abilities to get past them,” Serf Seraphiel whispered.

“What are we supposed to do, Dad?” Cyrus asked softly. “All my ability does is heal people– how is that going to help?”

“Yours won’t,” he replied, “but, Noemi’s and mine might do the trick.”

My eyes widened. I had never used my ability enough to help take down six people, let alone one. These weren’t even pure bloods, either– they were Mongrels, which meant they had powers too.

“I-I can’t,” I tell them, exasperated. “I’m not strong enough– I’ve barely used it before.”

“Just try it on me real quick, Nemmi,” Cyrus said. “It shouldn’t hurt me too bad, since I heal quickly.” 

Serf Seraphiel gave the nod of approval. “We are in a good spot,” he said. “It should be safe to practice a little bit, we just have to be quiet enough so we don’t give up our position.”

I silently complied. Slowly, I raised my hands toward Cy. With my palms opened, I tried to focus my energy in my hands– but all I could hear in the background was the roaring laughter of the guards. After a few moments, Cyrus’s finger twitched slightly, but that was all I ended up managing. I let out a frustrated sigh.

“That was good, Noemi,” Serf Seraphiel tried to motivate me. I looked at him furiously but he continued, “Seriously, that means you know enough to get at least one of them out of my way.” He comes closer to me and tries to explain the process, “All you need to do is focus your energy more on the object you are trying to move. Focus your thoughts on Cyrus and what you want his body to do- and ignore all the background noise. That’s all there is to it.”

I nod and try again. Just like he explained, I try to focus my energy past my fingers and into Cy. What did I want him to do? 

A second later, intrusive thought’s won. Cyrus’s hand slowly raised towards his face.

It was working!

His brows knit together in confusion, trying to figure out what I was going to do. As I led his finger further, he silently freaked out, and a vicious smile graced my lips.

“Noemi- ugh,” he hissed in disgust. “Please, don’t make me-” and then his finger was in his nose, picking out his boogers. “Whatever,” he says, dejectedly. “Not like I don’t do it when I’m by myself anyway.” 

I grimaced, letting him go, and wiped my hands on my shirt. It felt like I was the one picking my boogers now. After recovering from the feeling, I looked over at Serf Seraphiel, success written on my face. 

“Good, Noemi,” he sighed, the weight lifting off his shoulders. “Alright, here is the plan. We aren’t going to make a big fuss, just enough to sneak past them…”

The plan was now in motion. We got into our positions as the guards continued to laugh and exchange stories. I raise my hands toward the loudest one– the one who told the others about the woman he “roughed up”. Focusing my energy, I thought about what I wanted him to do.

His body tenses and he falls to the ground, face forward. The other guards start to panic, asking him if he’s alright.

“I can’t move,” he grits through his teeth. “Fuck, everything hurts.”

“Oh, man, you might be having a seizure or something,” another speaks up. 

“No, you idiot,” a shorter, apparently smarter guard says, rolling his eyes, “Seizures cause your body to seize, not just lay there.” He looks behind him to the others. “Someone get him some water! It’s hot out here, he could be having a heat stroke.”

Two guards rush off with a canteen, leaving four. One was incapable of fighting at the moment and two of them were standing over him, trying to help.

That left one for Serf Seraphiel to handle.

Serf Seraphiel's ability was inertia control. He could stop an object in motion, or cause objects that weren’t in motion to move rapidly towards something. 

The object he chose was the remaining guards' lungs. He didn’t kill him, just stopped his breathing enough so he passed out. With a thud, the remaining problem fell to the floor.

“Shit! It’s too damn hot today,” the smart one said. “Thorne is down too.” He looks at the idiot and tells him to get up and go fetch more water.

With only one remaining, this gave us enough freedom to maneuver past the Veil district boundary. Before I released my hold on the guard laying face down, I wanted one more piece of victory. I forced his body to sit up on his knees, and his arm shot up, slapping himself hard in the face.

"Oww, fuck!" I heard him scream as we ran.

I smiled. For the first time in my life, I tasted the smallest bit of freedom.

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