A Flight to The Yaarou Western Compound

[The Yaarou Clan]

[Continued From Here]


Morning came softly to New Vorelia.. as it always did.

The first light spilled over the peaks of the Strata Mountains in pale bands of gold, washing across the city of white stone until its countless bridges and terraces seemed to glow from within. Bells echoed somewhere beneath the clouds, announcing the beginning of another day to a civilization that had spent five thousand years greeting each sunrise as though it were a victory unto itself.

Far below the Hall of Luminaries, beyond the city districts and the ascending lifts that carried hunters toward the mountain gates, rested a secluded aerodrome carved directly into the eastern cliffs.

The runways had been cleared before sunrise. And only a handful of Inuki attendants remained on duty, assigned to guard the only vessel resting upon the tarmac. They weren't told much about it other than it was the Xhi'on's transport vehicle, but they couldn't help but notice that it possessed none of heraldry they expected of an incredibly opulent clan. There were no banners or gilded crests carved along the hull proclaiming noble ownership. Instead, the jet's obsidian surface was sleek and seamless, interrupted only by narrow silver inlays that traced elegant patterns from nose to tail.

It rested upon the polished landing platform like a shard of midnight, and even idle, it seemed to radiate something difficult to describe. Not merely power or pride.. but authority. The effortless extravagance of a civilization so wealthy it no longer needed to display its wealth.

But despite all its beauty and allure, none of them dared ventured near the aircraft.

—

It was barely an hour past dawn when Sevrin crossed the platform at an unhurried pace.

The mountain wind tugged gently at his robes as he adjusted the black blindfold covering his empty eyes.

He looked calm, and well rested after a night spent in the care of New Vorelia’s finest amenities. Following his meeting within the Hall of Luminaries, the Elder was encouraged to eat, sleep, and replenish. He found himself surprised at the lengths the Inuki went to aiding the Yaarou's refugees. But despite that, Sevrin's thoughts were elsewhere this morning.

The conversation with the Grand Luminary had lingered with him throughout the night.. Tales and discussions of demonic entities… fraught with eldritch powers, tied to abhorrent realms. The Yaarou were no strangers to the otherness of the Unseen. And though he'd learn better than to doubt the will and ambition of their Xhi'on, Sevrin couldn't help but think that her proclivity to throw caution to the wind was.. foolhardy.

“...”

Even now, as his footsteps reached the tarmac, the final words Hitomi shared with him at the Athenaeum weighed heavily on his head. The fact that she truly intended to take on the Trial of Pale Shadows was evidence of her gross disregard for anything other than her own capabilities.. And that experience was the only teacher she’d ever listened to.

For nearly three thousand years every practitioner of the Yaarou's telepathic branch of the Ephemeral Arts had surrendered their sight willingly upon the altar of perception— just as the first Xhion, the originator of the rite had done before them.

It was less a technique than it was a covenant. A sacred pact. But Hitomi had dismissed it all in matter of words. As she had done everything else that would deter or stall or goals. And Sevrin still couldn't decide if her confidence comforted him, or only terrified him further.

In time, Sevrin passed by the Inuki guard detail, who greeted him with nods and keen bows before he reached the lower boarding stairs of the Jet. There, two Yaarou attendants were standing in anticipation of his arrival.

“Elder Sevrin.” They bowed deeply. “Lady Yaarou is waiting for you.”

Sevrin tilted his head and climbed aboard without another word. Once he reached the top, he took a long, deep breath to steady himself before he proceeded through the threshold.

The cabin greeted him with silence.

The interior bore little resemblance to the military transports he had flown aboard throughout his life. The Xhi'on's aircraft had been designed less as a vessel and more as a private residence capable of drifting through the clouds.

Dark walnut paneling lined the walls between broad windows that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. Shelves of polished ebony housed hundreds of carefully catalogued volumes, many rescued from the libraries of Qiyoto before its destruction. Works of art occupied illuminated alcoves between them, while a long conference table of black marble ran through the center of the cabin— untouched save for a silver tray of tea that had long since gone cold.

Sevrin's gaze drifted across all of it before his attention was drawn to the rear of the cabin, and that's where he found her.

Hitomi occupied the seat nearest the panoramic window, where the morning sun danced along the white silk of her robes. One slender leg rested neatly across the other, and an immense leather-bound tome lay open upon her lap.

The embossed seal of the Inuki Athenaeum gleamed softly across its weathered cover, while several others were stacked on the table. One look at the faint shadows beneath her crimson eyes told Sevrin everything he needed to know. Hitomi had never gone to bed, and had likely never stopped reading since last night.

She was engrossed. She never so much as lifted her head to acknowledge his arrival while he adjusted his cloak.

Across from her sat Elder Ayune.

Her hands remained folded carefully within her lap, and she greeted Sevrin with a gentle smile that failed to conceal the tension gathered within her shoulders. He hadn't seen her since their arrival, but she too looked well rested. Composed. Yet every muscle in her posture suggested she had not truly relaxed since Qiyoto fell.

At her side sat Elder Jhun. And despite being a man who Sevrin would have described as a steadfast pillar that had steadied the Yaarou through generations of uncertainty.

Today, he just looked tired. Both physically, and spiritually.

His eyes lingered on Hitomi only for moments at a time before quietly retreating elsewhere, as though prolonged eye contact risked inviting a conversation neither elder wished to have. When he met Sevrin's gaze, he greeted him with a nod.

Both he and Ayune arrived one after each other less than an hour ago. But the silence upon the cabinet was stagnant and thick. Other than the hum of the engine, it was as if no one had made a sound since their arrival.

Sevrin understood immediately.

Neither of them had spoken to her. Not since Qiyoto.. where the decisions they made during her absence ultimately condemned their homeland dust. And judging from the rigidity in their shoulders, and the fatigue on their faces, neither of them knew whether forgiveness was even possible. Or whether their sentence had merely been.. postponed.

It was a feeling that Sevrin was intimately familiar with.

He crossed the cabin at an unhurried pace before stopping beside the conference table.

"Elder Jhun... Elder Ayune." He said a warm expression. "It is good to see you both in good health."

Ayune returned the smile, though it carried unmistakable fatigue. "And you, Sevrin. The Inuki appear to have treated you well."

"They have." He nodded warmly. "They have shown more kindness than I expected."

"Indeed," Jhun answered quietly. "For all our differences... They have surpassed my every expectation." His voice faltered almost imperceptibly. "..they accommodate us as if we were their own. A notion the Yaarou will not soon forget.”

“No, I imagine we won't.” Hitomi said suddenly, without lifting her eyes from the book. “..considering the destruction of Qiyoto will be a rather haunting reminder of their hospitality.. for as long as we live.”

She said with a quiet menace behind her words that sent a shiver down all three spines seated at this table.

“You are late.”

Still, she never looked up to him. But Sevrin could feel his heart plummet into his stomach like a rock. He blinked once before lowering his head. "My apologies, Lady Xhi'on. Before I arrived, I—”

“You may keep your apologies, and your excuses.” Hitomi said as she flipped to the next page, and wrote something down on a nearby notepad. “..fortunately for you, we're not yet ready for takeoff.”

Elder Jhun looked up, his fatigued eyes narrowed in confusion. “..my Lady? Are we awaiting another?”

“We are.”

“Commander Keiko..” Sevrin stated less than asked. But Hitomi simply shook her no.

“The Commander is still recovering from wounds she sustained in her valiant stand against the Serpent. But she has supplied an adequate replacement.”

“Replacement?” Ayune inclined her head. But then, Sevrin grunted with a narrowed gaze.

“Yatagané.” The word slithered through his teeth, quiet like a slur or a foul phrase. Hitomi smiled, without looking up from the tome.

“She should be joining us soon.”

Tension gathered about the cabin like a haze following her words.

Minutes passed, each one somehow longer than the last, and still no one spoke.

Before long, the silence became almost tangible.. so much so that Sevrin found himself fixating on sounds that would have otherwise slipped his notice; from the rhythmic pulse of the engines idling beneath the cabin floor, to the delicate whisper of pen gliding along parchment. His blind eyes were useless, yet years of habit caused his face to turn toward Hitomi all the same.

She had not stopped writing. Not for one second.. Even as their conversation drifted around her like leaves caught in a current, she remained.. incessant. It was as though everything and everyone else aboard the aircraft occupied only the very periphery of her awareness. All but this tome and her pad of notations.

Sevrin could not help himself. He inhaled slowly, done now with the reflective quiet.

"My Lady. Speaking of the Commander and her sacrifice, I wish to speak regarding the decisions made during your—"

"No." She answered gently. Yet the word arrested him, as if she'd struck him across the face.

He hesistated. “..my Lady?"

"I already know what you're going to say.”

Her hand never stopped moving.

“You believed there was no other way..”

She turned another page.

“..that preserving the bloodline outweighed every decision.. and that victory would absolve any methods used to obtain it.”

She jotted another note.

"You probably believed I would never awaken.. ”

Her words were delivered with the detached cadence of someone reciting historical facts. Yet the Elders could feel her disappointment within them.

Jhun lowered his head.

Ayune folded her hands more tightly within her lap.

Even Sevrin found himself unable to summon words he had rehearsed throughout the night.

Hitomi simply scoffed and continued reading. The conversation, in her mind, appeared already concluded.

“My Xhi'on..” Jhun swallowed, and gathered himself before he retorted. “Please.. allow us to explain. There is.. more to our reasoning.”

“Oh?” Hitomi suddenly stopped writing, and at last, she closed the tome. “..so there is another reason why you released my grandfather, incited war against the Shi in my absence, and destroyed all of Qiyoto in the process?”

None of them answered her. Sevrin wanted to though.. He wanted to tell her that it was their fear in her inexperience, her impulsivity, and relentless arrogance that ignited his distrust in their Xhi'on. But he wouldn't dare. Not after everything he'd seen her accomplish, and especially not after Hayate's prodigious mistake.

Her crimson gaze held daggers to all of their necks as she finally looked upon her embarrassing council, measuring whether any among them possessed the courage to say aloud what they truly believed. But when none of them did, a feint add frigid smile touched her lips.

“How sad..” She leaned back in her chair, watching them fidget in their seats, “..Is there anything more to you all than fear?”

[Rinnala Yaarou]

The light of Xelphis did not merely rise; it conquered. As the star’s first rays kissed the jagged horizon of New Vorelia, the Eastern Highlands were forcibly reclaimed from the shroud of night. Coral light, vibrant and hungry, bled across the peaks, abolishing the black veil that had, only moments before, saturated the hearts of the Inuki with an oppressive, familiar fear.

For the Inuki, fear was a secondary skin. They wore their exhaustion openly, their faces etched with the fatigue of a people who had held the line against a siege spanning five millennia. Five thousand years of holding back the dark would thin any bloodline, yet as the light pierced the gloom, Rinalla Yatagane felt a phantom warmth on her cheeks.

It was a memory, a soft echo from a time before the weight of the realms rested on her shoulders. She could see her mother’s face, clear as the morning air, cupping Rinalla’s chin in her calloused hands.

"My little Mud-bloom..." her mother had whispered, her voice a balm against the grief of a lost sister. "Even when you are not ready for the day, even when the weight of the world feels anchored to your soul... remember this."

A coy, knowing smile surfaced in Rinalla’s mind’s eye, so vivid she could almost feel the phantom heat of her mother's touch.

"It cannot always be night," Rinalla whispered, her own lips finishing the proverb.

The memory faded, leaving her standing on the precipice of a cold reality, but the encouragement remained—a necessary push to move beyond the rut she had inhabited for weeks. Her body still ached; the injuries sustained during the raid on the Denkou-Shi underground base were deep, reaching into the marrow. She had pushed herself to the absolute brink, fueled by a desperate need for the restorative prestige that would come with slaying the Nether Serpent. She had sought to wash the Yatagane name clean in the blood of a god-monster.

Instead, the mission had been a harrowing embarrassment.

Though she had survived—and even managed to dismantle the AION construct she faced—the victory felt like ash in her mouth. She was a Yaarou elite, a shadow who answered only to her commander, the Elders, and the X’hion herself. With thousands of confirmed kills, she was supposed to be the pinnacle of Yaarou lethality. A failure was still a failure

And Rinnala did not fail.

"And for fucking what?" she spat into the wind. "The Nether Serpent wasn’t even there."

He had been her obsession for a decade, the "Crowned Jewel of Shame" that sat upon her house's legacy. But the surveillance data she’d recovered from the AION had changed everything. Looking at the sheer scale of the devastation the Serpent left in his wake, a weighted diamond of reality settled in her gut. She wouldn't have been able to get near him. She was a candle flickering before a hurricane.

She needed power. Not just the strength of a soldier, but the evolution of an apex predator. And there was only one being in Edo who represented that shift: Hitomi, the X’hion.

Rinalla’s gaze drifted toward the "Breach" in the distance. Even from here, the earth seemed to murmur with malice. The Acheri—whatever these demonic entities truly were—were sowing death into the very soil. The wind carried the scent of ozone and rot. Casually, Rinalla pulled a cigarette from her purse, her fingers steady despite the whispers of the blackened earth. Gleaming in the light as it bounced off her Rings of Onryo.

As she struck a light, her eyes—outfitted with her Hex Artifacts—glimmered. The prisms contained her Azure Flame, twinkling like captured stars in the morning light. If she could master this flame, if she could harness it, she could bend even time to her will. This excursion into the heart of the demon-filled realm wasn't just a mission; it was her training montage. It was the forge where she would break her limitations.

A movement on the path below caught her eye. Elder Sevryn was arriving.

Her eyes narrowed, the Azure Flame in her pupils flaring. She had not forgotten the vision—the flickering precognition of Sevryn’s betrayal and the subsequent destruction of Qiyoto. She saw the blood on his hands before he even spilled it. Yet, for reasons Rinalla could not fathom, Hitomi had not struck him down.

Perhaps today, Rinalla thought, a cold resolve hardening in her chest. Treason will no longer go unanswered. She had nearly lost her entire family to the ambitions of men like Sevryn. She would not let it happen again.

"Suppose I better get inside," she muttered. She took a final, deep drag, the smoke curling around her face before she dropped the ember. The passing gale snuffed it out as Rinalla’s form blurred, then vanished entirely.

Moments later, she reappeared on the deck of the command ship, materializing silently to the right of Sevryn. The Elder jumped slightly, but Rinalla didn't even grant him a sideways glance. Her focus was entirely on the figure at the center of the bridge.

"My Lady X’hion," Rinalla said, her voice dropping into a tone of genuine, if rare, reverence. "Rinnala Yatagane, reporting."

She bowed—a deep, disciplined movement that displayed her absolute respect for the woman before her. When she rose, she bypassed the seating arranged for the sub-commanders and the Elders, taking a seat with a casual defiance that bordered on insult.

"Elders..."

To Rinalla, the Elders were children playing with matches while their homeland burned.

Only Hitomi mattered.

This was the first time Rinalla had stood in such proximity to her leader, and the effect was visceral. Hitomi did not merely command the room; she defined it.

She sat with a poise that felt less like a regal posture and more like a predator at rest. Her hair was a cascading river of silken white, so bright it seemed to catch the light of Xelphis and hold it captive. But it was her eyes that truly arrested Rinalla’s spirit. They were a deep, piercing crimson—the color of ancient wine and fresh blood. They didn't just look at Rinalla; they seemed to calculate her atomic weight, her potential, and her flaws in a single, sweeping glance.

There was a quiet power exuding from Hitomi, a hum of energy that made the air in the cabin feel heavy and charged. She was the embodiment of the evolution Rinnala craved—a leader who had discarded the stagnant traditions of the old Inuki ways in favor of raw, unadulterated efficiency