Nefetia’s Sudden Fury
“Nefetia…!”
Arkin had been about to unleash his fury when he barely managed to lower his voice. He realized only then that he was gripping Nefetia’s wrist with his bloodied hand.
It had happened in an instant. He had slashed his own palm trying to kill the delicate creature he could not bring himself to harm, convinced that one wound would be enough, and was turning away when suddenly Nefetia had drawn her dagger and, before he could stop her, sliced his palm in one swift motion.
“Wait—if the door won’t open, we can think about that later. And… hah.”
How had she moved so fast? Why hadn’t it hurt? She had cut his tender skin with that sharp blade and then stood there silently, as if nothing had happened. Arkin furrowed his brows while staring at the blood-soaked palm in his hand.
“Why did you do something so foolish? You don’t even need to see the blood….”
The words stuck in Arkin’s throat. He bit his lip instead. The blood that had poured from his own wound had long been forgotten. He could not explain why he was so furious, but watching the drops fall made his heart…
“Come here.”
Arkin tore a strip from his own shirt. He was about to wrap it around his hand when Nefetia shoved him away, her own anger flaring even hotter.
“Why only me? You’re allowed, aren’t you? You pulled out your dagger just because you felt like it!”
“So what? I was simply trying to solve the problem quickly….”
Arkin could not understand why she was so angry. If anything, the one who felt more offended was himself…
“Hah.”
Sighing as if the situation was ridiculous, Nefetia rolled her eyes. The irritation she rarely showed him left Arkin’s heart sinking hard. He had never seen her this way before.
“Arkin. You don’t want me to get hurt, do you?”
That was what she had said. Arkin nodded vigorously.
“Of course I do. I hate it. I hate it so much….”
“I know. How much you must have startled me.”
“No, that’s not— I…”
Arkin’s words died in his throat. He lowered his gaze. He had never imagined she would be this angry. The words she muttered through gritted teeth landed like a stone in his chest.
“Listen well. If you ever do something reckless again without my permission, I’ll do the same. Right now, just like this. Understand?”
“Uh-huh…”
Arkin was left speechless. Nefetia brushed past him, approached the altar, and tilted her hand over the blood-stained clay bowl. The thin veins of blood slid down her fingers and clung to the tips before dripping tick, tick, into the red pool below.
Arkin watched her in silence, then pulled her hand to him and wrapped it tightly in clean cloth. With every turn of the bandage, his heart fluttered uncontrollably.
He did not know if it was right to feel this way while bandaging her wound…
What was this? It was nothing at all. A meaningless injury…
‘I never imagined she would get this furious just for cutting my hand without permission.’ Even slicing his own body would be worse…
In other words, I need her permission for everything I do… Because she is mine…
“Arkin. Are you smiling?”
“No.”
Who would ever feel like this when they liked someone? One moment he had been seething with rage, the next his mind had gone blank, and now his heart ached while swelling with something he could not name. Arkin carefully wrapped the cloth around Nefetia’s hand, then forced the corners of his mouth into a straight line and smoothed his expression.
At that moment—rumble…
A heavy vibration rolled up from beneath the floor. The Arachne silk thread on the ground flashed with blinding light. The walls of the maze cracked open with a thunderous sound, revealing a passage leading to the next chamber.
“See? We both had to bleed anyway.”
Before Arkin could answer, Nefetia jabbed him in the side and tried to step forward. But then—
Chirp, chirp, chirp!
The blue bird in the cage Arkin had been carrying flapped its wings madly and cried out. It struggled toward the right side of the path, not the one they were supposed to take. The vines that formed the wall suddenly writhed like living snakes in response to the frantic chirping.
“What the hell is that…?”
Nefetia and Arkin stood frozen, watching in horror as one side of the floor beneath the maze collapsed like a bowl with holes punched in it. The vines that had climbed down the walls tangled together and surrounded the rabbit hole in a circular trap, as if guarding the entrance.
Arkin tilted his head and muttered to Nefetia.
“This doesn’t look like Seneca’s training at all.”
Yellow moonflowers even bloomed around the rabbit-hole entrance, popping open with soft pops. Their petals, glowing with a yellow light, soon turned a rainbow of colors. Even without wind they swayed gently, drawing the two travelers’s eyes as if begging them to come inside.
“What’s going on?”
Both of them were still bewildered when a mysterious current of water suddenly surged up from the ankle-deep river they had been following. It slammed into them with terrifying force, threatening to sweep them away. Arkin pulled Nefetia close and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Do you feel it? The current seems to be flowing into that hole.”
The invisible water did not make a sound or show itself, yet it formed a massive whirlpool, swirling powerfully before being sucked straight down into the rabbit hole like water vanishing down a drain.
“The thread!”
Nefetia stomped her foot belatedly. The Arachne silk she had forgotten was swirling with bright light, tumbling along the current until it disappeared into the strange cave.
“What do we do now?”
“Fortunately the thread is still there. Nefetia.”
Arkin grabbed the taut silk and muttered. Even after the surrounding area fell silent, the Arachne thread continued to glow with clear, powerful light. The hole left by the missing thread was now so bright that they did not need torches.
“We should go down there…” Nefetia murmured after a long pause.
“Yeah.”
Arkin nodded carefully. Logically it was extremely dangerous. But once their blood had mixed, they could not turn away from this opened path. Instinct screamed that something important lay below.
“Let’s go.”
Arkin hoisted the cage and led the way, while Nefetia followed the shining thread and descended cautiously. Though the passage was narrow, she did not have to bend as she walked.
The cold, damp air clung to her skin, sending shivers down her spine, but the Arachne silk guiding them made the cave inside bright enough to explore every corner.
“Arkin, look at this.”
The walls of the cave were not soil or rock but a carefully woven surface of thick, tough vine stems. It was far too precise and artificial for a naturally formed cave. It felt as though someone had intentionally controlled the vines to create this structure.
Zafiri’s face flashed through Nefetia’s mind. Was there someone on this island who possessed a similar ability—or even stronger? Could the person at the end of this path be him?
The tunnel grew narrower. The height was comfortable for Nefetia, but for a tall, broad-shouldered man like Arkin it was barely passable. He had to hunch deeply, shoulders hunched, and walk with a bent posture so his head would not touch the ceiling.
How much farther? The slope gradually flattened, then suddenly the vision widened.
“Ah…”
Both Nefetia and Arkin halted in surprise. The sudden expanse of open space left them breathless as they scanned their surroundings in the darkness.
Glowing stones embedded in the ceiling cast a soft light, and the floor was smooth and packed. One wall was hung with animal skins; the other floor held a worn rug that, upon closer inspection, was also made of vines. Dried herbs lay scattered on a wooden table, and hand-carved quills and basic tools were scattered about as well.
It was clearly a place where someone had lived for a long time. Like… a shelter for a lost traveler.
Yet no trace of human presence remained. In the silent stillness, Nefetia and Arkin exchanged tense glances.
Arkin’s wandering eyes suddenly landed on what looked like a makeshift bed. On the crude bed woven from wood and vines lay…
“Nefetia, look over there.”
Arkin narrowed his eyes. The robes on the bed were tattered and faded, yet they were unmistakably the same style as Seneca’s priestly robes from Credo Island.
“Who… who is it?”
A hoarse voice came from the opposite side of the darkness. Arkin was startled and immediately pushed Nefetia behind him, readying his stance.
“Who are you? Why are you here?”
“……”
The man staggered toward them without answering. It was possible that long confinement underground without any sunlight had taken its toll. His frame was skeletal and hollow-eyed, a beard rough and unkempt covering half his face. But his eyes burned brightly from the deep sockets. A hermit, a sufferer, or the eyes of a madman.
“…”
The intense silver light from the thread made the man frown. As if annoyed, he naturally raised one hand and swept it lightly through the air. The blinding glow that had filled his shelter faded like a lie, dimming to a faint illumination.
Arkin’s spine stiffened at the sight of the man casually controlling light with nothing but a gesture. Someone who used magic as easily as breathing. He could not guess what would happen next, so he kept his guard up. He positioned himself as much as possible in front of Nefetia and rested his hand on the hilt of his dagger.
“E…”
The man’s slow, ghost-like steps suddenly halted. He had noticed Nefetia, who had been hidden behind Arkin. For some reason, his breathing grew rougher.
“You… you…”
Arkin tightened his grip on the dagger handle. The gaunt man’s gaze was too intense, too persistent. He considered drawing his blade. The man’s cracked, hoarse lips trembled, and a voice finally burst forth, heavy with emotion.
“…Mahati?”