The Foxfire Saga

The wasteland stretched out in silence, cold light painting long shadows across fractured ice. Zephara's distant sun hung pale above the horizon, barely strong enough to warm the air, let alone the soul.

Akiko trudged forward, each step an argument against the instinct to lie down and vanish. Her boots crunched unevenly. Ice fractured beneath her heel. Her body was slow to answer her commands, movement dulled by a fatigue that sat marrow-deep.

The foxfire that once danced at her fingertips was gone. Snuffed. Her claws didn't even shimmer.

Behind her, Raya's voice cracked through the wind, sharp with strain. "We're heading in the wrong direction."

Akiko didn't stop walking. "We're skirting the fissures," she said, voice rough. "Unless you've suddenly decided you can jump a mile-long chasm."

The words came out too hard, sharper than she meant. Akiko winced inwardly, guilt coiling tight beneath her ribs.

She wasn't angry at Raya. Not really. Just raw, stretched too thin by everything bearing down on them. And it slipped out, like it always did when she was close to breaking.

Raya didn't answer, but her scowl bled into silence. Farther back, Kess said nothing, one hand resting on the butt of his holstered pistol. His breath fogged his suit's visor. His jaw was clenched.

"We don't have time for detours," he muttered. "The longer we're out here, the worse it's going to be getting in. If the Hold's lockdown triggers—"

"They won't." Akiko cut him off, though the conviction wasn't fully there. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead, scanning the jagged terrain. "Haven's too busy cleaning up Karn's mess to care about three strays limping home."

No one responded. Only the ice spoke, groaning beneath them, fractured veins widening beneath the surface.

She stepped again. Her legs screamed at her, the kind of hurt that didn't feel heroic. Just tired. Just hollow.

Keep moving. One foot. Then the other. That's all it takes.

Takuto's voice pierced her thoughts like a scalpel. "Notification: Auxiliary Shield Panel Activated."

Akiko stopped. The wind clawed at her coat. Her breath caught halfway up her throat.

"Akiko?" Raya's boots scuffed the ice as she moved closer. "What is it?"

Akiko didn't answer. Her hand drifted to the base of her neck, fingers brushing the cold housing of the neural link.

"Details," she said.

"Shield activation registered. Proximity match: User-designated ally: Skadi. Location: Isvann Hold, Residential Sector."

Her stomach twisted. The fatigue vanished like air sucked from a room.

Skadi had used the shield. Which meant she'd needed it.

"Damn it," Akiko breathed. Her eyes narrowed as she turned toward Raya and Kess. "We have to move. Now."

Raya's brow creased. "You're barely on your feet."

"I don't care." Akiko's tone snapped cold. "Skadi's in trouble."

Raya stepped forward, palms half-raised. "Akiko, slow down—"

"The shield panel. She used it."

Kess crossed his arms. "She's inside the Hold. We're the ones stuck out in the wasteland."

Akiko rounded on him, voice rising. "Then why would she use the shield? Why would she burn her only defense unless something was wrong?"

Kess's mouth tightened, but he didn't reply.

"We can't waste time," Akiko said, already turning. Her steps were uneven, her limbs leaden, but she didn't stop. "We get there, or we don't. But she's in there, and we're not."

The ground trembled, barely a flutter. A groan whispered beneath the ice.

Raya fell into step behind her, quiet now. Kess followed after a moment, his breath a ragged exhale.

Ahead, the faint glow of Isvann Hold pressed dimly through the rising frost haze. Akiko locked onto it. Her HUD flickered, a soft arrow pulsing in the upper corner, guiding her home.

Her vision blurred. Her body felt weightless and too heavy at once.

Keep going.

Her feet moved like machinery.

"Obstacle detected," Takuto announced.

"Bypass it," Akiko rasped.

Ahead, a low service hatch hissed and unlocked with a smooth hydraulic pulse. Takuto's signature flickered across the panel. Access granted.

The world stuttered, half a second of delay between motion and meaning.

Akiko steadied herself.

Residual threads of the entity, still ghosting through her systems.

"Nice work," she muttered, not sure who she was talking to anymore.

Raya and Kess followed in silence. Even their shadows seemed quieter now. Slumped shoulders, dragging steps, the fatigue soaking into everything.

But Akiko didn't stop. Not until Skadi was safe.

The first person they passed was a Haven tech hunched over a console near the hatch. He looked up sharply as Akiko approached. Saw the grime, the blood, the determined fire behind her eyes.

"Hey—! What are you—"

Akiko didn't slow. She met his gaze, voice low, threads of magic curling into the syllables. "Go back to your station. You didn't see us."

The man's fingers twitched toward his comm. Then stilled. His expression softened. Eyes gone distant. Wordless, he turned back to the terminal.

Akiko didn't look back. "Good choice," she muttered.

Raya fell in beside her. "You're burning through your mana," she said, sharper than before.

"I know," Akiko bit back, pushing forward. "It's faster than fighting."

The next checkpoint was worse. Two guards, rifles slung low, chatting softly. Akiko didn't break stride. The charm was already in her voice, in the tight line of her posture, in the flicker of foxfire at the corner of their vision.

"You don't see us," she said. "We're not your problem tonight."

The words dropped like stones into a pool.

The guards slowed. One blinked, confused. The other turned away as if distracted by a thought he couldn't quite remember.

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Akiko passed between them. Her HUD buzzed red.

Mana levels: Critical.

She staggered. Just a half-step. Enough to feel it, the hollowness crawling into her limbs. But she didn't stop.

"Akiko," Raya said again, quieter now. "You're going to burn out."

Akiko didn't look back. Her stride was steady, but her voice trembled at the edges. "I can't stop. Not now."

Raya moved closer, her steps light in the corridor. "You've already drawn deep. If you push again—"

Akiko turned her head just enough for the glare to land. "I'm not stopping."

The hatch ahead slid open before she reached it. Takuto didn't wait for a prompt.

She pushed through.

The hold's inner corridors swallowed them. Narrow, winding, dim. Pipes rattled above. Machinery hummed like a warning buried in the walls.

Akiko moved faster.

Skadi's name beat against her chest like a drum.

Hold on. Please.

The residential sector unfolded in rows of identical doors. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that followed violence.

Akiko's boots scuffed as she slowed.

Then she saw it. One door, edges scorched. A circular hole cut through, the discarded metal still leaning against the wall like a warning sign no one read in time.

She moved without thinking. Her hand hit the panel. The door didn't respond.

She pushed. It groaned open.

Inside, the lights were out. The smell of burned wiring lingered in the air. Furniture overturned. Shelves half-collapsed. The scattered detritus of a life interrupted.

Her breath caught.

"Skadi?"

No answer.

She stepped inside. Then she saw her.

Skadi was curled on the floor, knees drawn tight, shoulders shaking. Hands fisted in the fabric of her coat. Her head down, unmoving, as if the world had pressed down and finally flattened her completely.

Akiko froze.

Her legs buckled before she realized she'd moved. Knees hit the floor, a dull thud that echoed too loudly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. It slipped out raw. Unarmored.

She reached out. Stopped. Her hand hovered an inch from Skadi's shoulder, unsure.

"I'm so sorry."

Skadi didn't lift her head. Her sobs softened, but her whole frame still trembled. She didn't recoil. But she didn't reach back.

"They took her," she whispered, voice barely audible above the low crackle of debris settling.

Akiko went still. The pieces slid into place before the words even finished leaving Skadi's mouth.

"Your mother," Akiko said softly.

Skadi gave a tiny nod, jaw clenched, eyes hollow.

Akiko bowed her head. The quiet between them was grief-shaped. Jagged and fragile and sharp.

Too late. The guilt curled around her lungs. Always too late.

Unbidden, the memory surfaced. One she'd tried to keep buried.

Elyas. Taken from Kaede all those years ago. The way they'd found him, bloodied, trembling, but alive, burned permanent behind her eyes. Akiko had stood beside her sister then, their fear eclipsed only by sheer determination.

They'd gotten him back. But the cost had lingered in Kaede's eyes for weeks after. That hollow kind of grief. A silent wound that never quite closed.

Akiko's gaze drifted to Skadi, curled and trembling beside her.

The same look. The same silence. The same absence where a person should've been.

The breath caught in her throat.

What if it had been Raya?

What if—

The thought twisted through her chest, sharp and cold. Her hand rose before she realized it, pressing against her ribs like she could force the fear back down.

"I should've been faster," she whispered.

The words slipped out uninvited, heavy with everything she couldn't undo.

"I should've been here—"

Her voice cracked. She buried her face in her hands.

The sob that followed wasn't loud, but it tore straight through her. No armor. No filter. Just exhaustion and guilt and helplessness bleeding out in ragged gasps.

She didn't try to stop it. Couldn't. The weight of everything pressed down until there was nothing else, just two women and the wreckage between them.

They stayed like that for a long time. No words. Just breath and tears and silence broken only by grief.

Eventually, she forced herself to lift her head. Her eyes were swollen, her throat raw, but the fire was still there, buried deep beneath the ash.

She reached out, this time without hesitation, and rested a hand on Skadi's shoulder.

"We're going to get her back," Akiko said. Her voice was rough. But steady. "Whatever it takes."

Skadi didn't speak at first. Just sat there, staring at nothing. Then, slowly, she looked up.

Her face was pale, streaked with tears. Her eyes red-rimmed and searching. For what, Akiko didn't know. Hope, maybe. Something solid to hold onto.

She gave a small nod. It wasn't much. But it was enough.

Akiko gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. The guilt didn't vanish, but it stopped being the only thing she felt.

She couldn't fix what had happened, but she could make sure Skadi didn't face the next part alone.

A sound broke the stillness, soft and rhythmic. Boots. Approaching fast.

Akiko's body snapped taut. Every nerve went alert. She stood, slow and stiff, exhaustion dragging at her legs.

Outside. Someone was right outside.

"Raya," Akiko hissed.

Raya looked up, brow furrowed. "What—"

"Kitchen. Now."

Akiko didn't wait. She reached for her, guiding her toward the back alcove with a firm shove.

Raya read the urgency in her eyes and dropped whatever protest she'd been forming. She moved fast, slipping behind the counter and crouching low.

Akiko turned back to the door. She placed herself between it and Skadi, shielding her with her body. Skadi hadn't moved. Her sobs had dulled to soft, uneven breaths. Her arms wrapped tight around herself, face buried in her hands.

The boots stopped just outside. Silence bloomed, dense and suffocating. Then the door slid open.

The frame groaned, scorched metal scraping against itself.

Three figures. Two in armor. Rifles low but ready.

And between them—

"Ah," said the man in the middle. "There you are."

Marcus Vehrin. Immaculate as ever. A tailored jacket over reinforced bodymesh. His expression was calm, measured. But his eyes gleamed with something far colder than satisfaction.

Akiko's fists curled at her sides. Her shoulders locked tight.

"Akiko Tsukihara," Vehrin said, voice smooth as oil. "We meet again. I must say, your talent for evasion is almost admirable. If inconvenient."

She didn't answer. Just stared him down. Her amber eyes burned, even as her limbs trembled from fatigue.

"Can't say I missed you," she said flatly.

Vehrin smiled. "Charming as always."

His gaze shifted to Skadi, still huddled behind her.

"And this must be one of your... accomplices."

Akiko stepped forward, trying to hold his attention. "She's not involved."

"Is that so?" Vehrin tilted his head. "Because from where I'm standing, you both look very much at the center of a rapidly escalating crisis."

Akiko said nothing. Her breath came in tight, shallow bursts. Every instinct screamed to move, to lash out. But her legs were shaking, and her magic was down to fumes. She'd spent everything and then some.

Vehrin smiled again, slow and precise. He wasn't here to talk.

The guards stepped in first, rifles angled just high enough to make sure Akiko felt every breath tighten in her chest. One twitch, and they wouldn't hesitate. She could read it in their eyes.

She flicked a glance to Skadi. Still curled on the floor. Pale. Shaking. Her tear-streaked face caught in the narrow shadow between defiance and collapse.

Akiko swallowed hard.

If she moved now, if she fought, Skadi would be in the crossfire. And Raya, still tucked in the kitchen's shadow, wouldn't stand a chance.

Akiko forced a breath. In. Out. Slow. Her hands unclenched with visible effort.

"What do you want, Vehrin?" Her voice cracked sharp through the silence.

Vehrin smiled like he'd already won. "Your cooperation, of course. You and your associate will accompany us to Haven custody for questioning. Given the… circumstances, I'm sure you understand the need for precaution. That frigate in orbit raises certain questions."

Akiko bit down the snarl building behind her teeth. Said nothing.

The guards stepped closer. One lifted his hand, motioning her to surrender.

Akiko dropped into a low crouch, just enough to meet Skadi's wide, hollow gaze. She forced her lips to twitch into something that could almost pass for a smile.

"It's going to be fine," she whispered. She needed to believe it. If not for Skadi, then for herself. "We'll get through this."

Skadi gave the smallest nod, her movements stiff and automatic.

Akiko rose slowly. Hands lifted in surrender.

The cold bite of restraints snapped around her wrists a moment later, locking tight. The metal pressed sharp against her skin, already bruising.

Vehrin's grin sharpened. "Excellent. Let's not waste any more time."

They moved her first. The guards herded her toward the door with practiced, impersonal force. Akiko cast one last glance toward the kitchen, toward the dim glint of Raya's eyes, still hidden in the dark.

Their gazes locked.

Play along. Bide your time.

She let the guards push her into the corridor.

Her mind was already working. She caught the shift the moment they steered Skadi toward a separate vehicle. Smaller, less armored. Skadi stiffened, but didn't resist. Her face was drawn tight, lips bloodless.

Akiko's stomach turned.

"Separate vehicles?" she demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.

Vehrin didn't even look back. "Precaution. Wouldn't want you conspiring."

The guards tightened their grip on her arms, forcing her toward a waiting transport. Sleek. Armored. Haven insignia etched into the hull like a brand.

The wayfinder arrow reoriented itself, snapping to a familiar signal. Skadi's shield panel. Still tethered. Still alive.

Her lips twitched into a faint, bitter curve. Idiots didn't even search her pockets.

The door hissed open.

She felt the hum of mana suppression the moment she crossed the threshold. Subtle. Thin. Just enough to irritate her system, just enough to remind her how fragile her reserves had become.

They shoved her down onto the hard bench seat. The door slid shut with a hiss of pressurized air.

Akiko let her head fall back against the wall, breath shallow.

She flicked her gaze toward the mana indicator.

1%.

Ticking upward painfully slow.

Her jaw tightened.

You're underestimating me again, Vehrin.

She thought back to Serynth. How the mercenaries had stripped her down to flesh and bone before dragging her toward Zephara. Those mercs had known what they were doing.

These? These were sloppy. They assumed their mana suppression would keep her pinned down. But she was more than her magic. That gave her time. Time to breathe. Time to wait. She would be ready.

Her fingers twitched against the cold cuffs. Her lips curled into something colder than a smile.

Catch your breath, little fox. You've got a lich to slay.