Heron would have wanted to meditate too, but looking at Yuriko sitting with her back against the oak tree, her Anima boiling around her frame, and completely oblivious to everything around her, he couldn’t.

Midnight had passed, and honestly, he was sleepy. He bit his lip to keep his consciousness as he kept watch. This plane, Irvalla, was a pleasant dream. It had been filled with people living their lives, even while their nation was at war.

The Eternal Empire was always at war. If not with the Coalition of Independent Planes, then with the Belrath Xylarchy. The Empress was always forcing expansion. Agaza taught him that the fighting usually came in cycles. A cycle to find and secure wandering planes, another to keep them secure, then another to push against contentious planes. All members of the Empire were warriors in one way or another, and each was expected to be able to fight for their homes.

While as children, they were separated into different tracks, ultimately, it was to feed the war machinery of the Empire. It wasn’t so here. He knew that the Karcellians and their allies were at war, but…her soldiers were volunteers. Only those who wished to fight did so, while the rest did what they could do. He saw women and younger men go to work in factories building guns and bullets, as well as iron ships and tanks. He saw men a bit younger than he attempt to enlist, only to be turned away since they were too young. Their spirits were firm and steadfast, and they knew the weight they must bear.

They were quite inspiring, really.

Heron sighed as he stared up at the skies. It was the Dark Moon tonight, but the clouds were sparse. It had started to grow cold since they were well into the Season of Air. Karcellia’s weather normally had a bit of rain every afternoon, and as such, the ground was damp. With Yuriko’s heat, the air around her was quite pleasant.

Well, he had nothing to do other than keep watch, so he decided to further his studies on the Ennoia of Winds. He settled on a seated meditation pose next to her and spread out his senses. He could reach the winds farther out than he could with his Anima, which was at thirty inches by now. The growth was slower than Yuriko expected, but that was fine. Gwendith was only a few inches ahead of him. It was probably this place that was slowing his growth, but then, Yuriko’s Anima reach just tripled, so what did he know? He was also quite sure that if he tried to do what she did, he’d just pop like an overripe fruit.

The winds in this palace were tame, at least compared to the ones he felt underneath Rumiga. In the Underneath, the winds felt strained, trapped. They blew wildly, trying to return to the skies. Here, they were calm, though it might be because the weather was the same. He could feel the humidity in the air, and he felt he could squeeze it out of the winds too. His mind went back to their crossing of the Kamwick Sea, and of how he forced himself to keep the mists around. His mind expanded and he felt himself flying up to the skies, and he could see the rest of the plane below.

Lindorn was just a few longstrides north, and the Inner Ocean was to the east. He could see the Richmond Confederacy’s forces mustering near the coast, and the vessels they were gathering to cross the channel. He could see aircraft flying in the dead of night, bearing incendiaries to attempt another bombing raid, and he could see Karcellia’s desperate defenders lifting off from aircraft of their own.

Heron frowned. If the Confederates managed to cross and bomb Lindorn again, it would disturb Yuriko’s meditations. He can’t have that happening.

The Ennoia of the Winds formed a loose lattice around his core, and it was easy to exert his Will. He’d gathered mists before, and he could do so again. The aircraft were flying without lights, and if there was fog, then they wouldn’t be able to see their targets. It didn’t take much to coax the winds to gather moisture from the rivers and the ocean, and because it was night, fog was easy to produce and keep aloft. A thick one rose around him and he sent it to the east and north. Once loose, the fog stayed in the air without any further encouragement.

Thankfully, the Confederates sent their attack in waves. Even as the first one came back, after engaging in a fight with the Karcellians, the next wave only came out after another hour. By then, the fog bank Heron had built up was thick enough that it covered the channel. The ship's guardians had to open their electric lights, but even then, the beams didn’t penetrate too deeply into the banks.

The Confederates halted their assault and Heron took a deep breath as his mind trembled in fatigue. He pulled back into his body and noted the thickening of the lattice as his connection to the winds grew ever so stronger.

He got up and stretched, held in a yawn and looked at his beloved. She was still in the depths of her meditation. Whatever it was her Anima swallowed must be quite troublesome as he could see her expression shift minutely.

He happily watched her beautiful face while checking the surroundings every so often. That bunny man had not followed them, and Heron was sure the other was scared of Yuriko. Heron could match the creature but even though he managed to overpower Casper in the chamber, it might be a different matter outside.

Perhaps another hour or so passed and it was getting close to dawn. He looked forward to getting to his bed too, and…eh?

Yuriko’s eyes snapped open, but he immediately knew something wasn’t quite right. Her eyes were gold instead of their usual blue, and there was only emptiness behind them.

“Yuri?”

He shifted a bit closer, though he remained at a cautious distance. Yuriko was far stronger than he was and it didn’t look like she was really conscious…

Her hand flashed and grabbed his shoulder before he could blink, and he was pulled forward. As both of them were in a seated meditation pose, he wound up with his face on her bosom, and then, his body was dragged around by her Anima.

“Yuri, what! Stop!” he blurted out as he struggled to push himself away, even as another part of him revelled at the closeness.

Her scent filled his nostrils and his heart pounded. He looked up at her blank face as he was pulled into a tight embrace. He didn’t know how or when, but the next moment, both of them were on their feet, though she was floating just high enough so that her eyes were above his.

The next moment, her lips brushed coyly against his, and a shiver went down his back. It was everything he wanted, but also, not.

“Yuri, stop. You…you don’t know what you’re doing!” He tried to push her away, but even with his condensed aura supporting his physique, he couldn’t budge her.

Then, her lips pressed against his, and he was kissed so thoroughly that his mind blanked. He only came to when he felt her nibbling his lower lip. He was staring straight at her eyes, and they were still disturbingly blank. Her arms were around his shoulders, while he found that his were wrapped around her, too. His feet weren’t touching the ground.

Even worse, he felt tendrils of something sinking into his Anima. The touch was familiar and it was probably the Mien Yuriko always threw at him whenever he tried to confess his feelings for her. And honestly, at the moment, everything other than her lips, her bosom that was firmly pressed against his chest, her legs that were wrapping around his waist…anything outside of that was blurring away.

“Yuri…no!” He mumbled against her mouth. She wasn’t in her right mind and he doubted she would even remember this. This isn’t what he wanted! This…isn’t…

Then, her eyes that had been half-lidded twitched, and the golden glow faded away, replaced by her usual blue. She bit down a couple of times, and Heron did his best to ignore the pain…and pleasure that brought about. Then she blinked, looked at his eyes, and…

Her Anima that had been keeping both of them in midair, as well as restraining his protests, pushed their bodies apart. Yuriko wound up leaning against the trees, breathing heavily while her fingers covered her mouth. For a moment, anger coloured her eyes, but then, they faded away and were replaced by shame. Her face turned the colour of a tomato and she stuttered, “He…Heron…I’m…uh, what …ah! Sorry! I mean, I…”

He had collapsed bonelessly on the ground, out of breath. He was still shivering in combined pleasure and confusion. What had happened during her visions? Her gaze shifted down to him, and flinched, though it returned a couple of moments later and somehow, she turned even redder. Heron shifted and hunched over, feeling his cheeks turning dark too.

“It's…fine.” He finally gasped. “I…you were confused. And probably controlled by your meditations.”

“I…yeah. Sorry.” Yuriko shook her head. “Ah, excuse me.”

She fled around the tree trunk and Heron snorted and chuckled. Not quite how he imagined snogging, but yeah…

In about half an hour, both of them had regained their composure and they decided to return to Fordja. There remained an awkward air between them, but he was sure it would eventually ease. Still, he couldn’t forget how soft her lips were, and how warm she was.

_________

The border outpost was deserted. Edison Matthews pressed the binoculars hard against his eyes, not quite wanting to believe what he saw. Sanctus Kingdom would never allow its borders to remain unguarded, especially not with the current Richmond aggression. There was not a single man on the wall, nor the watchtower that he could see. But the bloodstains on the retaining wall, as well as the tower’s guard rails, told the story. He was just wondering if the enemy was still there.

More importantly, there were no bullet holes, craters, or burnt remnants. There were smashed buildings farther inside and smeared viscera.

“Shadow,” he intoned with a spell card in hand. It was midday, but the hills, the buildings, and the few trees provided the necessary shadows to cloak him. He made his careful way inside. There were no bodies, but he did find a lot of footprints. Or handprints, maybe? Apes? Daemon apes, probably. He remembered Miss Davar’s description of what attacked them when they entered the Region.

Once he was done, he hurried back towards his transport, a motorcycle lifted from the Richmond outpost a while back. He had enough petrol to make it Confederate territory as his mission was to check the portal site the Outsiders had come from. He had a hunch that the place was where the daemons were coming from.

He shuddered as he recalled the carnage across the Sanctus Kingdom’s borders and interior. Several towns had been attacked and decimated. There were human corpses but not the enemy. But then, Daemon bodies tended to disintegrate upon death, leaving nothing in its wake.

He gunned the motor and sped off. It took a couple of hours to cross the mountain pass, but as soon as he reached the southern Confederate hills, he pulled hard on the brakes and swerved away from the main road.

Not a couple of kilocubits away, he could see a troop moving towards a different mountain pass, he thought. His binoculars revealed their particulars and a chill ran down his spine. There were daemons. Large ape-like creatures whose fur were coloured crimson, adorned with spikes along their back, head, and arms. But even more chilling, was the company of Confederate infantry marching alongside them.