Tamara could not believe that she would run into this guy of all people in here of all places. She leaned forward and squinted through dark. True to her suspicions, it was him. The trademark mismatched eyes of his gleamed through the blanket of darkness, not to mention the gruff voice he had.

"What in the world are you doing here?" Tamara asked, bewildered.

"I should be asking you that, kiddo." His tenor voice rang in a low chuckle as he turned away and evaded her gaze. "Do not tell me you got this assignment?" He then paused. "Did you graduate from the academy already?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "No. But I'm finishing my studies this year."

"Mind telling me why you're taking an A-class mission like this?" He asked. "Even though you're a ranker, the highest level of mission that you're allowed to have is a D."

"I'm not doing this alone. I have the other eleven with me, and three—or four—tagging along." She sighed.

"I see." He began laughing. "So what made you end up in this situation? Don't tell me—"

"Of course not! The circle isn't that weak!" Tamara huffed before she turned up her nose arrogantly. "It's all going according to plan."

"Oh? Even I know better than to believe that. You kids barely have any experience in this sort of things."

Tamara decided to avoid the subject. "Besides, what are you doing in that stinking jail? Aren't you supposed to be a member of the Celestial Knights?"

"Ah." He waved a hand at her dismissively. "I'm just hanging out, really."

"Just hanging out. Really. Seriously."

"You'll know what I'm talking about when you become a Celeste." He rolled his eyes as he snuggled up against the wall. "Trust me. You'll one day find something to use as an excuse just so you can get away."

"And hanging out inside a smelly dungeon is one?"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "I brought a month's worth of booze in here with me, so I don't really have any complains."

"Ah, you drunkard!" Tamara snapped at him. "How seriously degrading is it allowing yourself to get locked up inside that jail just so you can get away and drink? Hasn't it occurred to you that you're actually an honorable knight with certain responsibilities?"

"I got them all done a few days ago—or maybe a month." He huffed. "If I stick around, Emmett's going to shove more work on my table."

"And you think that staying out of sight will stop him from doing it?"

"No." He answered. "But he'll drag me and force me to do it."

Tamara sighed, speechless once again. "You never changed."

"So did you." Laz smirked at the expression on her face. "So, things alright between you and your brother?"

"He doesn't want me calling him that." She pretended to search the room with her eyes, hoping he would drop the subject. The third-ranker wasn't too comfortable discussing that topic, but knowing Laz, he would never give up.

"Half-brother?"

"Not that either." She then gave him an exasperated look before heavily breathing out. "Look. Can we just talk about something else? Like how to get out of here?"

"Only that demon can do that." Laz answered. "He placed a sealing enchantment on these doors to make sure his prisoners don't escape."

"Then what are you doing just lying around doing nothing?"

"I feel lazy."

"Like you aren't always."

There was a pause between them.

"You've grown." He said, bringing out a bottle from underneath his thick, brown coat and popping the cork open. "You resemble your mother more and more every day." Laz brought the bottle to his lips before tilting it to pour the contents inside his mouth.

"I know."

"And you still have that spitfire attitude of yours as always. It fits your hair." He chuckled. "Ah, how fast time goes by."

"You never notice because you spend every second of it drinking or loitering around doing god-knows-what." She told him, trying to busy herself with something else. "That's why you got demoted."

"Hey!" He exclaimed, frowning at her. "That's not a good thing to say to your elder! I'm still older than you by ten years or so."

"It's actually fifteen."

"How old are you now?"

"I'm fifty."

"That makes me . . . did I really grow that old already?" Laz questioned, reaching up the caress the mop of dark brown hair on his head. He forgot to get it cut again for the hundredth time from the last two years, so it fell wildly around his shoulders in untamed waves. He brushed the area around his mouth as well, feeling the growing mustache a bit thicker than he remembered.

"By the looks of it, you are. But you're not showing it."

"So I still look young, don't I?" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"Just get that haircut and shave that horrible mustache." Tamara replied bluntly. "It makes you look like a pervert."

Silence.

"Anyhow, you did not answer my question." Laz said, deciding to change the awkward topic. "How are you two doing?"

"We're still the same."

"He still doesn't accept you?" He sighed. "You've sacrificed so much already. You threw away your title, surrendered your rights to the position . . . you're not even giving your father a chance. Does that boy know how much you're torturing yourself just for him?"

"Stop it." She said, grinding her teeth together. "None of that belonged to me anyway. It all belonged to him. I'm just an illegitimate child."

"But you're still a child of your father." Laz argued. "I really feel sorry for you, Tamara. I had hoped that after the two of you started attending the academy, you'll grow closer—but I was wrong. You're still too scared to actually say how you feel and he's still adamant in believing what he made himself believe."

Tamara, contrary to what she usually was, was quiet.

"What is it going to take for the both of you to acknowledge each other?"

"It's better this way." She said, turning her back on him completely to wake Courtney up. She didn't want to hold this conversation any longer and having the former fifth conscious would prevent him from digging up the past.

Laz sighed, his brows furrowing as a weight pulled the corners of his lips into a frown.

Years ago, this redheaded girl before him was nothing but a mere child with the same innocence as any other. Having lost her mother to a sickness when she was young left her wandering the streets alone to fend for herself. It was such a pity—for a young girl like she was back then to have been deprived of the normal childhood other children were blessed with.

Those smiles she gave. The outgoing attitude she had. Even the purposeful acts of inappropriateness and seemingly lack of proper etiquette. He knew that it was all a façade of hers to mask what she truly felt inside. Although Tamara was a supposedly carefree character, she had more on her plate than anyone would have suspected.

The circle knew what it was, yet they were afraid to meddle in the business of the two. It wasn't as though they haven't tried before. Charles was just simply too hard to convince, seeing the way his character was built.

Even Laz had tried himself, but there didn't seem to be a way for the two of them to properly make the connection that they needed to establish. If they were left alone to do it themselves, god knows how long it would take—perhaps it wouldn't even happen at all.

"I know a way to get out." He said, pulling himself out of his musings. "But you will need a plan."

"As if Charles hadn't already come up with one." She smirked.

And that was when it came.

'Kouill, it is time for the first stages of the plan to be executed.'

"Hell, yeah."

Laz shook his head.

He's just as narrow-minded as he is smart.

#

Faolan fought the urge to slam the door behind him. He chose to calmly seal it with a strong enchantment that would prevent it from being opened by anyone else but him before taking long strides away to attend to his lady. He wanted to crush that Lord Corvan's skull for saying such horrible words towards Asthore, but even he himself could not deny the truth they held. Besides, if he were to lose his temper so easily towards him, he could consider himself a lost cause.

But he wouldn't forgive him for acting that way.

As he entered the room of Asthore, he was confronted with plain darkness and the sound of muffled sobs. It was a habit of hers to hole herself up within her bedroom, surrounded by her fluffy pillows while she vented out her frustrations and sadness. She was lying on her stomach, with her face buried in her pillows.

"Milady—"

"Leave me alone, Faolan!" She shrieked at him, sobbing.

This time, he could not bring himself to obey that command. It was the one thing that he would not be ever able to do—not when she was like this.

When he didn't do as she said, she turned around and glared at him. "What are you waiting for?" She yelled at him. "I told you to leave! Didn't you hear me?"

"I am afraid I will be unable to do that."

Asthore continued to cry. "I bet you think the same."

"Think what, milady?" He took a hesitant step forward.

"I'm a brat. I'm selfish. I only think about myself."

"Do you wish to hear the truth?"

"No." She answered.

"Then, I will not say."

Asthore shifted from her position on top of her bed and glared at Faolan through her lashes, which was wet with tears. Her lips trembled and she had pillow marks on her face. "But you do, don't you?!"

Faolan merely answered her with plain silence.

"Why do you even stick around?" She mumbled, returning to her previous position to continue her tantrums.

"Do you not know why I'm here?"

She then recalled the very first words he had said when they first met. 'I am here to grant your wishes.'

'What's the catch?'

'Nothing.'

"But I don't understand!" She screamed, pulling herself up to sit. "I don't understand you at all!" Asthore turned to meet his black eyes with her blue ones, her cheeks flushed and her eyes puffy and red. "Why are you even here with me? If I'm selfish, then why do you stick around? You're no one to me but you insist in giving me everything I want! Why?"

"I'm no one to you." He repeated her words. "But you're someone to me."

Her eyes reflected the confusion that she felt inside. "Answer me properly! Faolan! Who exactly are you?"

"I am whoever you want me to be."

"Answer me properly!"

"That's the answer."

She went red in anger. Grabbing the pillows that rested on her sides, she began launching them at him as hard as she could from where she was. "Leave! Leave me alone! I hate you! Don't show your face to me! Get out!"

Faolan shielded himself coolly as the pillows hit him. He then bowed reverently at Asthore, incidentally evading the object that came zooming for the place where his head previously was. When he erected his back, he grabbed for the knob of the door and closed it behind him. A loud thump resonated and he was once again blanketed in silence.

He felt an alarming pulse as the enchantment he placed on the doors to the cell of his 'prisoners' were being trampled with. There was a specifically strong impact to it that he felt it being shaken. With a sigh, he made his way towards the dungeon to check on whatever was happening.

As he got closer, he heard screams and unrelenting shrieks.

"Let me out of here, you bastard! I will not allow myself to be caged in this horrible, stinking place! Come down here, demon! Face me properly! Just because you managed to put us behind bars, doesn't meant you won! Do you hear me?! Goddamn you!"

And just as he suspected, the redhead he remembered taking was kicking the door forcefully. Her limbs were covered with her raw power as she punched the rusting bars. If he hadn't bothered putting the seal, it would've already been broken down. He watched her as she materialized a sword made of ice from out of nowhere, coating it with layers of strong magic before swinging it in a powerful motion forward.

He was mildly shaken by how much force and power it contained. It was a bewilderingly strong attack that it caused a gust of wind to sweep the floor until about a meter or two away from where it came.

If she continued, she might just break it down.

"Damn." And with a frustrated grunt, she kicked it. A flash of dark violet that symbolized the presence of the seal appearing momentarily.

"I see you're awake." Faolan said, eyeing the blue-eyed redhead behind the bars. "I do hope you had some good sleep."

"Good sleep your demon ass!" She shouted at him. "Where are Corvan and the others?"

"They're quite comfortable, I assure you."

"In a stinking jail? Yeah, right!"

He felt a frown making his way to his face. "No." Faolan bluntly replied. "Are all you rankers this rude?"

"We're rude towards people who deserve it!" She replied with a glare. "So why don't you let me out of here and we can settle this fair? Ah, right! You're actually a cheating bastard!"

"It's not my fault you underestimated me."

"We didn't underestimate you." Tamara replied. "We gave you a chance in fighting fair. You challenged Corvan so we allowed you to take him on."

"Oh really?" He raised a brow.

Tamara's hand suddenly shot through the space between the bars and pulled him by the collar. He was startled by the suddenness of the action. A spark of pain erupted from different parts of his body as he slammed against the metal bars. It made him question how exactly this girl possessed such brute strength.

"I assure you, when I get out of here, expect that not only your head will be severed from that body. I'll make sure to cut you to itty-bitty pieces so slow so that you'll feel every little bit of pain there is during the process." The look in her eyes made a chill run down his back as she abruptly tossed him away.

He almost fell off balance if he didn't manage to regain his footing and stand properly. Tamara continued to glare at him from inside the cell before turning her back to him—only to suddenly spin back and kick the door with the same startling power.

He flinched slightly, but did not let the fear get to him.

The Twelve were surely intimidating people. It daunted him just thinking about confronting the other seven.

The old man groaned from behind him as he continued to chug down the seemingly never-ending supply of alcohol he had with him. Faolan turned to eye him with his brows raised. "You still hanging out with that brat?" He slurred, his face flushed. "You should know by now, you idiot." He cackled. "You don't give what she wants! You give what she needs!"

Feeling as though he was being tormented by lunatics, he spun and proceeded to leave.

As he disappeared, Tamara eyed his back andsmirked. "Phase number one, complete."