The Metzlian Remnant

The air atop Jamana Mountain didn’t just feel cold—it felt heavy, as if the atmosphere itself was trying to press Aile Tsukia into the dirt. Tsukia crouched in the undergrowth, her long dark hair spilling over the shoulders of her black cloak. Her target, a mountain buck, stood thirty paces away. She reached for the hilt of the black sword strapped to her waist. As her fingers brushed the cold metal, a familiar sting pricked her skin. “Not now,” she hissed inwardly. Beneath the sleeve of her white shirt, black, obsidian-like veins began to pulse. It was a volatile, hungry power—a “gift” that felt more like a parasite. She lunged forward, a blur of shadow against the green woods. Her blade swung in a silent arc, but as she moved, a sudden, sharp spike of pain exploded in her chest. Her foot caught on a root. She tumbled, her shoulder slamming into a jagged rock with a force that should have shattered bone. CRACK. Tsukia gasped, clutching her shoulder. But she wasn’t checking for a wound. She looked down and saw that the solid stone beneath her had splintered into dust. Her skin remained unblemished—not a scratch, not even a bruise. “Even the mountain was too weak to break me,” she whispered, her voice raspy from years of silence. At seventeen, Tsukia was a living anomaly. Since the age of ten, she had been nothing more than a bad luck charm—an abominable thing that never fit in and, more frustratingly, couldn’t even remember who she was. She began to retreat into the shadows of the trees when a sound suddenly stopped her in place. Whistling. A cheerful, rhythmic tune that had no business echoing through these desolate woods. Tsukia’s survival instincts screamed. Human. And in her experience, humans had always been the cruelest predators of all. She masked her aura and slipped behind the trunk of an ancient cedar. A man wandered into the clearing. He looked absurdly out of place, wearing a crisp white shirt, cargo pants, and a bucket hat that shaded his eyes. He hummed to himself as he kicked at loose stones. “Human,” Tsukia muttered under her breath. Her throat tightened, constricted by years of resentment and social anxiety. Her thoughts spiraled. Did they find me? Did the villagers send a mercenary? She didn’t wait for him to notice her. Gripping her sword, she launched a surprise strike from his blind spot. The man didn’t even look back. He simply shifted his weight, his body moving like a falling leaf caught in the breeze. Her black blade hissed through empty air. Tsukia’s eyes widened. She swung again—a rapid flurry of strikes—but he danced out of reach with uncanny, weightless grace. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, skidding to a halt as she leveled her blade at his throat. The man stopped and tilted his head. His gaze lingered on her tattered cloak and the dark intensity in her eyes. “How about you?” he asked. “What’s a girl like you doing on a dangerous peak like Jamana?” “I asked first,” she snapped, her hand trembling. “Fair point,” he said with a small laugh, crossing his arms. “Some people were chasing me, so I figured this mountain was a good place to lose them,” he added, chuckling as he laced his fingers behind his head. “Don’t worry, Miss. I’ve got no interest in fighting a beautiful woman.” Tsukia’s lip curled in disgust. Flattery was just another lie. She turned to leave, her cloak billowing behind her. “Wait! You didn’t even answer me!” The shout echoed through the trees as the man’s hand shot out, his fingers clamping firmly around her shoulder. For him, it might have been a casual gesture. For Tsukia, it was something else entirely. No one had dared stand within her reach for years, let alone touch her without permission. The warmth of his palm through her clothes felt foreign. Too close. Too human. The sudden contact struck her like a blow to the chest. It was new, it was wrong and it was far too much. In an instant, the volatile energy buried deep within her surged in violent protest. The man seemed to sense the shift and tried to pull back. But Tsukia had already spun on her heel, the temperature in the forest dropped sharply and moisture on the ground crystallized into frost. Her left eye was no longer human. The iris darkened into a deep, abyssal black that seemed to swallow the light around it. On her wrist, the dark veins beneath her skin flared into a terrifying necro-violet glow. She raised her palm toward him. The space between them screamed. A sphere of raw telekinetic energy twisted into existence in the center of her hand—hungry and unstable. The man’s laughter vanished. His face turned pale as his eyes fixed on the thick drop of blood that trickled from Tsukia’s nose—the price her body paid for the power she was about to unleash. “Hey! Easy! You’re hurting yourself—” “Quiet!” Tsukia screamed. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she released the wave. The force struck him like a wall, launching him backward. He slammed into a tree trunk with a bone-rattling thud before collapsing to the forest floor. Tsukia doubled over, gasping for air as she wiped the blood from her lip. The power always demanded something in return. He slowly sat up. His eyes were a vivid, glowing orange, framed by heavy lashes that cast soft shadows across his skin. Strange, delicate markings traced the curve of his cheekbones. There was a raw, effortless beauty to him, though he seemed entirely unaware of it. He looked at her, and the playful smirk from earlier was gone. In its place was something colder. Sharper. He wasn’t merely looking at her anymore. He was captivated. “I’ve seen a lot of magic,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I’ve seen the flashy stuff. The dangerous stuff. But that…” He paused. “That felt new to me.” “I don’t even know what it is,” Tsukia admitted, her voice trembling with exhaustion and vulnerability. “I just woke up one day with no memory, and this… this disaster inside me.” “So you really do live here,” he murmured. “Alone.” “I don’t trust humans,” she said, her eyes flashing. “Leave this mountain and forget you ever saw me.” “I see,” he said with a faint smirk as he brushed the dirt from his white shirt. “So you hold a grudge. I wonder what made you hate us so much.” Tsukia ignored him and began to walk away. But his voice followed her, warm and persistent. “I won’t tell anyone. You have my word. I’m not like the others.” She glanced back over her shoulder. For a split second, she caught his smile as It wasn’t mocking or cruel. It was… strangely cute. The thought made her immediately snap out of it. A dangerous spark of curiosity stirred within her. “Why should I believe you?” “I won’t prove it with words,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll let my actions prove it.” Then he tilted his head. “But tell me, Miss… what is your goal? Why stay up here?” Tsukia hesitated. “I just… want to be strong.” Her voice softened. “Strong enough that I’m not afraid anymore.” “I can help with that!” “I told you, I don’t trust—” She turned to leave, but he followed after her like a stray dog, pestering her with questions. “Shut up already,” she groaned. “No! Hehe.” Suddenly, the forest fell silent. The whistling stopped and the birds fled. THUD. THUD. THUD. The rhythmic sound of heavy marching boots echoed through the trees. Nine men in tactical gear emerged from the shadows, their weapons glinting in the dappled sunlight. Tsukia’s heart sank. Her grip tightened around her sword as she glared at the man in the white shirt. “You… you brought them here.” But the man didn’t look at her. Instead, he sighed and scratched the back of his head as the armed men leveled their weapons at him. “There he is!” one of the soldiers shouted. “Don’t let him slip away again!” Tsukia blinked, as they weren’t there for her. They were there for the man in the bucket hat. “Man, they’re persistent,” he sighed. His playful aura vanished as he stepped in front of Tsukia. “Sorry about the noise, Miss.” “It seems my past finally caught up to me.” He looked back at her and winked. “Want to see how a human fights?” Was it truly fate that had brought them together on this mountain—or was he simply another disaster waiting to happen in Tsukia’s life?