The Gifted Divide

"For a moment, a desire for vengeance rises in me. Once, she laughed at my humiliation. Now I could gloat before hers. This is what power feels like, pure unfettered power. It's great." ― Holly Black, The Wicked King

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"Achoo!"

The sharp sound broke the quiet hum of the nearly empty café. From behind the polished bar, Timo tossed a few napkins toward the table with casual precision. His warm brown eyes crinkled in quiet amusement as he resumed polishing a wine glass, the repetitive motion a comfort after years behind the counter.

"Cold?" Karl asked without looking, his honey-brown eyes still fixed on the glass of amber liquor in his hand.

Sera sniffed and snatched a napkin, wiping her nose with a quick swipe. "Probably someone talking about me," she muttered, her voice dry with irritation.

The café was nearly deserted at this late hour, the dim lights casting long, comforting shadows across the wood-panelled interior. To Sera, the quiet was a welcome reprieve. It wasn't often she could see Karl like this—unguarded, out of the shadows and off the battlefield.

A rare lull in the chaos of both their lives.

It isn't every day that she can see, let alone meet with the man who had raised her, considering what Karl does for a living.

Karl's drink clinked gently with ice as he tipped it back, the liquor burning down his throat. He gave a slight grimace as he set the glass down, then turned his seat slightly to face her. "I doubt I need to warn you," he said, his voice low and level. "I'm guessing you already know. Hunter activity is ramping up fast. And from what my contacts are saying, they're starting to panic. Especially after what you did to The Butcher."

"I don't regret it," Sera said instantly, her eyes unflinching. And Karl, of all people, didn't expect her to. "I would've taken him down sooner or later. Rumours about his methods have been around for years in the underground. If not for the risk of provoking the hunters, Larissa would've put a bullet in him herself."

Karl raised his glass again and offered a silent toast in her direction.

In the hidden veins of Eldario's underworld, news travelled like wildfire. And the death of The Butcher—one of the most feared predators among the hunters, wasn't just news. It was revolution. For the Gifted, it was like the lifting of a choking shroud they'd worn for years.

One more nightmare silenced. One less monster left to prowl the dark.

The underground circles are likely throwing parties the moment the death of the Butcher had hit the papers. As would the Gifted community.

"…You're making your move soon, aren't you?"

It wasn't a question. Sera's voice held certainty. And sorrow.

Karl didn't respond at once. His gaze fell to the countertop, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his glass. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, burdened with years of memory.

"You know, for a long time, after Blade fell, I was terrified you'd sink," he said, almost to himself. "That you'd disappear into that darkness like so many others. In this world, especially in the underground, it's sink or swim. 'Survival of the fittest' is more than just a saying. It's law. And what happened with Blade…should've broken you." His eyes lifted to meet hers. "But it didn't. Everyone loses their way or faces hardship at some point, and it always has the potential to make a permanent impact on enemies. But the biggest testament to a person's character is what they do after that hardship."

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Sera didn't flinch. But the slight tremble in her fingers, barely visible, betrayed something raw under the surface. "Everyone breaks eventually, Karl," she said. "I wanted to die. When Blade… And then what happened with Zest. I… I didn't see a way out. I wanted to just vanish. Die with them, if I could."

She looked down at her hand, slowly curling her fingers into a tight fist.

"But then… I ran into Kailey and Neil. It was the night I came back to Elvryn. I'd come to say goodbye to everything. I was ready to end it." Sera's voice trembled slightly before she steadied it. "But something about them stopped me. They didn't even know me. But they looked at me like I still mattered." She looked up, the corners of her eyes glistening faintly. "They saved me, Karl. They gave me something to live for. And now, Aegis says I saved them. But the truth is, I needed them more than they needed me."

Karl leaned back, folding his arms. There was a long silence before he spoke again, his voice softer than it had been all night.

"They taught you how to live again. Not just survive," he murmured. "I get that. At the close of the war, when I lost your father… And your mother… And even my best friend…" He swallowed. "I felt like such a failure. I wanted to die, too. But I couldn't. Not when Tiara came to me. She asked me to take care of you, after everything." His voice cracked ever so slightly. "I saw what they did to you, Sera. The state we found you in… No child should ever have survived that. And yet, you did."

Sera said nothing, but her hand unconsciously rose to the plain black choker around her neck.

"You became my reason to keep living, back then," Karl continued. "You were the last thing I had left to protect."

"Karl…"

"I've been living on borrowed time for years now, kid," Karl said, offering her a wry smile. "If you've chosen to take the hunters on, then I can't just sit idly by."

Sera's brows furrowed. Her eyes darkened. "Karl—"

He held up a hand, cutting her off before she could object. "I know that look. Save it. I've made peace with it. You got your role to play. I got mine. And don't you worry about me. If it's my time, it's time. If my role means I have to die to make a difference, then I'll die. No regrets."

Sera's mouth tightened into a thin line. She knew that tone. Knew it from the times he walked into battle before the old wars. Once Karl Myrick made up his mind, there was no changing it.

Not even Tiara had managed to stop him when it counted.

"I've spent my life carrying regrets," Karl said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable than she'd ever heard it. "I lived through that horrible war. I fought in it by Tiara's side. And at the end, I was too much of a coward to stay by her side as she sought the reforms she wanted to make. Maybe if I had stayed by her side, things in this country wouldn't have become this bad." Karl only shook his head. He knew the consequences of his actions. There is no point in second-guessing his choices. Not at this point. "I failed your father. I failed your mother. I couldn't tell Tiara how I felt. I couldn't protect the people who meant the most to me. And I couldn't protect you."

"You did protect me—" Sera began, but Karl's eyes silenced her.

"No. Not the way I should have."

There was a pain there—a deep, unshakable guilt that had etched itself into his soul long ago. A wound time had never quite closed.

"But this… This I can still do right. If it comes down to it…" Karl smiled, bittersweet, "Then I'll die for you, Sera. I'll die for what you stand for. And I'll do it with a damn smile on my face. If I can't find any worth in my life by living it, then I'll find it by dying for it."

That phrase. Sera's breath caught.

It was the same thing he'd told her all those years ago, when she was just a broken child clutching a knife too large for her hand. A promise etched into her memory like blood on stone.

A phrase that Sera had always held close to her heart, and part of how she lived life on her own terms.

"You know," Karl said, after a pause, "I think I finally get it. What Zest saw in you. What Aegis saw. What all those Gifted and Normals saw when they chose to follow you."

Sera didn't respond.

"You don't give up," he said simply. "You're willing to die for your beliefs. Just like your parents. Just like Tiara. If a brat like you is willing to do that, then adults like us have to make sure those brats lived long enough to see those beliefs take place."

Sera rolled her eyes—half affection, half exasperation, as Karl reached over to ruffle her hair, exactly as he used to when she was a child. She leaned away with a scowl. "I'm an adult, you know," she said, gesturing toward the drink beside her.

Behind the bar, Timo hid a quiet smile behind his wine glass.

Karl laughed, a rich, echoing sound that filled the café like sunlight in winter. "Don't remind me. One blink, and the little girl I used to spar with in back alleys is now leading a damn revolution." His smile softened, turning somber. "You've got something I don't anymore. A future. A family. You've got Aegis. You've got Zest." He stood, fishing out a wad of notes and sliding it across the counter to Timo. "May the Goddess grant you the peace I never found," he said. "And may she bless whatever life you and Zest make together."

Then, with one final tousle of Sera's hair, he shrugged into his coat and left. The door chimed softly behind him.

Silence settled like snow.

Timo resumed his work, cleaning Karl's glass with a kind of reverence. "Do you think he'll be okay?" he asked after a long moment.

Sera didn't answer right away.

"I don't know," she said at last. "He's survived things no one should have. He lived through the last war. He knows how to fight. He taught me everything I know about survival—how to live, how to move in the dark, how to read people like maps. But this time…" She trailed off, staring at the empty doorway Karl had passed through. "…This time feels different. I don't know why."

Her voice was barely a whisper now.

"But I pray to the Goddess he comes back."

And yet, despite that silent prayer, something in her heart told her the truth.

This might have been the last time she would ever see Karl Myrick alive.