The riverbed was dry.
Chi knelt beside it in the morning light, her gloved fingers brushing the cracked earth. The ground stretched from bank to bank, split and broken like sun-baked stone, despite the snow that had fallen through the night. There should have been water here—even frozen, there should have been something.
Instead, there was nothing but the smell.
Metallic. Old. Burned deep into the earth itself.
Hinata crouched beside her, one blade unslung and resting across her knees. Her eyes scanned the empty channel with the careful attention of someone who'd learned not to trust quiet places.
"You smell that?" she asked, voice low.
Chi nodded.
"Blood."
"Older than yesterday," Chi said, running her fingers through the dirt.
Hinata's frown deepened. "Older than last season, even."
Chi didn't respond, but she knew. This was the old merchant path—the route that once connected Kurohama to the outer province lines. Traders had used it for generations.
During the fall of the outer clans, they had died here.
The river hadn't flooded with rain that terrible year. It had flooded with people—refugees, soldiers, anyone desperate enough to outrun the Queen's justice. The water had run red for weeks, they said. By the time it cleared, nothing would grow along the banks.
Some stains never washed clean.
They followed the empty riverbed east, boots crunching softly on the frozen ground. Snow dusted the banks like grave dirt. No tracks marked the earth. No birds called from the bare trees. Even the insects had abandoned this place.
Chi moved with deliberate care, each step precise. Not hesitant, but careful, like she was walking on glass that might shatter.
Hinata noticed. She always did.
"You're quiet," she said after they'd walked in silence for nearly an hour.
Chi didn't answer.
"You're always quiet, but this is different. Worse."
Still nothing.
Hinata stopped. "Okay, so we're just going to ignore the fact that you disappeared last night, came back with a split lip and shadows under your eyes, and you haven't blinked properly since?"
Chi paused, her shoulders tensing. "Drop it."
"No."
Chi turned slowly, and Hinata saw something dangerous flicker in her red eyes. "You think I owe you an explanation?"
"I think you owe yourself one," Hinata replied, meeting her stare without flinching. "Whatever happened out there, it's eating at you. And I'd rather know what we're dealing with before it gets us both killed."
Chi's hand drifted toward Red Crescent's hilt. "Then maybe you should have stayed in Oniheya."
"Maybe I should have." Hinata's voice was steady, but her own blade was within easy reach. "But I didn't. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"Why?" The question came out sharper than Chi intended.
Hinata's expression softened slightly. "Because running alone gets you killed. And because... the Queen wants you alive. And I want to know why someone that powerful is interested in a wandering swordsman."
Chi turned away and started walking again. "The Queen doesn't want me."
"You sure about that?"
Chi's silence was answer enough.
By midday, the wind had shifted, carrying new scents from the east. Chi stopped so suddenly that Hinata nearly walked into her back.
"What is it?" Hinata whispered.
Chi raised one hand for silence, her head tilted as if listening to something only she could hear. Ahead, the dry riverbed curved into a stone channel—an old construction, carved by long-dead engineers.
Standing in the center of the path was a woman.
Tall and lean, wrapped in gray robes that seemed to drink in the winter light. Her face was hidden behind a half-mask of polished bone, white as fresh snow and carved with symbols that hurt to look at directly.
She didn't speak. Didn't reach for a weapon. Didn't even seem to breathe.
She just stood there, watching them with eyes that reflected nothing.
Chi took one careful step forward.
The woman raised a single hand, palm open. Not a threat—a signal. A command to stop.
Chi obeyed, every muscle coiled like a spring.
"What is that?" Hinata whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Watcher," Chi replied without moving her lips.
"You sure?"
"Too clean to be anything else."
Watchers were the Queen's passive agents—scouts and messengers, her eyes and ears. They didn't fight unless ordered. Didn't speak unless spoken to first. But they saw everything, remembered everything, and once a Watcher marked you, you were never truly alone again.
Chi met the woman's hidden gaze and waited.
The wind picked up, stirring the snow around their feet. Then the Watcher spoke, her voice carrying clearly despite the distance.
"Chi of Kurohama. Daughter of the Flame Sigil."
Hinata's sharp intake of breath was loud in the sudden stillness.
Chi said nothing.
"You walk the eastern path," the Watcher continued.
Still no reply.
"The Queen dreams of you in her silver tower. She sees your face in smoke and shadow. She whispers your name to the wind."
Chi's eyes narrowed. "Then let her keep dreaming."
The Watcher tilted her head with something that might have been curiosity. "You have killed her Maskborn servants. You have resisted the Call that would bring you to her side. You carry the Blade of the Severed Pact, forged in the old wars. And yet..."
She took one step forward, her movement unnaturally smooth.
Chi's sword sang from its sheath in a motion too quick to follow, the blade catching what little light filtered through the clouds.
The Watcher stopped.
"Tell your Queen," Chi said, her voice cold as winter stone, "that I don't kneel. Not to her. Not to anyone."
The Watcher stood perfectly still for a long moment. Then she did something completely unexpected.
She smiled.
It was a small expression, barely visible behind the bone mask, but it changed everything about her presence.
"Good," she said, and her voice carried warmth that hadn't been there before. "She hoped you would say that."
Then she vanished.
Not in a flash of light or a puff of smoke. One moment she was there, solid and real, and the next she simply wasn't. No sound marked her departure. No disturbance in the air.
As if she had never existed at all.
Hinata cursed under her breath, a string of words that would have made dock workers blush. "What the hell was that supposed to mean?"
Chi slid her blade back into its sheath with a soft click. "Confirmation."
"Confirmation of what?"
"That we're walking into a trap."
Hinata's voice rose slightly. "That woman knew your bloodline. She spoke it like it was written in some royal registry. Flame Sigil isn't just any old clan name—that's ancient demon nobility, forgotten even in the deep archives of Oniheya. You want to explain why that title came out of a Watcher's mouth like she was reciting scripture?"
Chi started walking again. "No."
"Of course not." Hinata fell into step beside her, frustration clear in every line of her body. "Because why would you share useful information with the person watching your back?"
They didn't stop when the sun began to set. They walked through dusk and into full darkness, guided by starlight that struggled to penetrate the heavy clouds. Every step east took them deeper into something Chi couldn't name but could feel in her bones.
It wasn't safety they were walking toward.
It wasn't peace.
It was the kind of destiny that left marks on the world long after the people who made it were dust.
They finally made camp beside a burned-out waystone, its carved surface blackened by fires that had burned out decades ago. No campfire tonight—the light would only draw unwanted attention. Just cold air, hard ground, and the weight of unanswered questions.
Hinata sat with her back against a fallen log, arms crossed, watching Chi with the patience of someone who had learned to read the subtle signs of danger.
"You going to sleep tonight?" she asked.
"No."
"Didn't think so." Hinata shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Just so you know, I'm not afraid of you. Your sword, your reputation, your mysterious past—none of it scares me."
Chi didn't respond.
"But I am afraid of what's following you," Hinata continued. "Whatever this is, whatever the Queen wants, it's bigger than just one wandering swordsman. And I have a feeling we're about to walk right into the middle of it."
Still no reply.
Hinata exhaled slowly, her breath misting in the cold air. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But just know—if something tries to drag you back to whatever hell you crawled out of, I'm not letting it take me down with you."
Chi looked at her then, really looked at her, and for once her voice didn't come out like steel scraping ice.
It came like gravel, like stones worn smooth by too much weather.
"You're already walking beside me," she said quietly. "That makes you part of this whether you want to be or not."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning neither of them was ready to face.