It's been a while! This is a fic I've been working on for the last few months. I hope you enjoy!

I do not own Claymore.

You are shaking. Nothing is clear. All you know is that your parents are dead and that they are only two people in a growing list of the dead. The town calls the human-eating monster a "Yoma." They call you a bad omen.

A man with blond hair and silver eyes arrives sometime after your parents are killed. He is not a knight, at least not like the ones you have seen in books. His armor is different than any you have ever seen and his sword is twice the size of the ones the blacksmith makes. But it is the way that the man moves that tells you he is not like the other knights. He's constantly looking, constantly moving, going at such speed that you are never sure if you are dreaming or not.

According to the gossip, he is a new type of warrior. A warrior that is part-Yoma. Part-monster.

The warrior slays the Yoma, the monster that is masquerading as your brother, in two swings of his sword. The warrior does it without any emotion in his face. It is as if he is killing an insect. It is as if it is normal to him.

It is not normal for a boy as young as you are to lose his whole family in such a way.

The warrior sits at the edge of your bed as you cry yourself to sleep that night. He says nothing, but his presence is enough to keep you from throwing yourself to the floor. When morning comes, there is no trace of him in the house. There is not even missing food.

Maybe he knows that you are a bad omen. Maybe he wishes that you were dead too.

You have to live in the house alone for days. It's now the house where your parents were killed and a monster once lived. It's a house stained with blood and death and everyone knows that it won't go away. The air follows you around. You are the boy whose brother was a monster, after all.

When the man wearing black asks to take you along with the village's payment, you almost cry in relief.

The cut down the front of your body does not heal. At night, when you are supposed to be asleep, you stare at the stitches. The other boys think you are odd. You become the outcast. But no one calls you a bad omen, so you accept this new life.

You have gained speed and strength that you never could have imagined. It should have been impossible. The way that any of you, boys barely on the edge of adulthood, exist in such a state should be impossible. But it is your reality. Every day you are testing it, trying to find its limits. Every day, you are one step closer to slaying monsters who look like people you had loved.

But every night you think about the wound that goes through your chest, held together by a thread.

The Organization teaches you swordplay. The swords they provide are large and it takes you some time to figure out how to carry it without tipping yourself over. The other boys play around with the practice weaponry all the time. The handlers and teachers scold them over and over, but the boys laugh. They will become the new silver-eyed warriors to rid the land of monsters. They will become heroes.

You don't say anything like the others. It would be nice, you think, to become a hero. But then you just look at the hole in the front of your body and wonder if there will ever be a day that it will disappear.

You lose track of time. Life within the Organization's walls is now your only life. The memories of your life before the hole, before having silver eyes, feel like someone else's.

And then you meet the warrior that killed the monster that looked like your brother.

You feel his presence before you even see him. His Yoki is calm and boundless, so different from the other boys training with you. You trace it as he walks into the building and straight towards the training grounds. He stops by several of the other men and speaks to them. But even when he talks to the handlers, his eyes are following you. You stare right back. You wonder if he wishes that you were dead.

The handler calls you to them. You walk over obediently and in the back of your mind you wonder if this man's cut, held together by thread, is gone.

The warrior brings you outside to the deserted cliffs. He looks at you, then at the landscape. It is as it always has been; barren as far as the eye can see. He asks, "No one could take you in afterwards?"

The question startles you. The words tumble out of your mouth and into each other before you can even comprehend what you are doing.

The warrior chuckles. "Breathe."

You do. You try to start again. "I... My relatives, they... they all..." You breathe again. "I'm a bad omen."

"A bad omen?" the warrior repeats. "That's... odd. Humans can be such odd creatures. We warriors give up our humanity to try and save them from Yoma. We are the only ones to take on this burden. And yet they cast us out as if we are the demons."

You stare, silent. Any words that were left in your heart have disappeared.

"I suppose such is the way of the world," the warrior concludes. He shakes his head and looks back at you. "I don't think you are a bad omen."

"But... But..." Your eyes instantly turn down, and you wonder if the scar is visible through the uniform.

The warrior smiles. "It's just a sign you will carry. You are meant for something different. I have it too. We all have it."

"Really?" There must be some disappointment hidden in the shock of your voice, because the warrior's smile grows softer.

"Really." In a fluid motion, he rips his uniform down the middle. Sure enough, there is a scar identical to yours running through the center of his body. "It will likely stay with you until the day you die. But it is a good sign. A sign of strength."

In that moment, you believe him.

The warrior fixes his uniform as best as he can. The scar is still visible, still there cutting through his body. "What's your name?"

"I'm Raki," you say.

"A pleasure to meet you, Raki. My name is Isley."

Isley starts to visit the Organization more often. When he does, he always spends his time giving you extra training. He shows you how to swing a sword, how to use it beyond what the handlers are teaching you, how to survive. It is grueling but you never once complain. You need to learn because you are going to be a warrior just like Isley. There is no time to complain.

The final test falls upon you all so fast. Out of the group of thirty boys, only five of you notice the presence of Yoma. Only three of you pass.

Isley is there when the Organization gives you a mark and a number. You, in turn, have already memorized Isley's symbol and his history. A warrior who single handedly took down twenty Yoma. A warrior who shows more power that the others, with the only distortion to his body is his eyes turning yellow. The only warrior to be Number 1.

You get the Number 25 and are sent towards the center of the continent. Isley has been reassigned to the northern region; the Yoma there have been getting restless.

"We will meet again," Isley says. "I expect you to be stronger."

"Of course!" you promise. It is a simple promise to keep; you were already planning to do just that.

Some months later, when you are Number 21, a Yoma runs towards the Holy City. It runs out of fear and hunger, and you know that even with its delusions it would kill several people. You take your blade out and remove the Yoma's head before it can sully the city's steps. The relief that fills your body is calming. Relaxing, almost.

One of the priests standing by the gate sees you and flees into the city. It takes you a moment to remember that you are an abomination to Rabona's inhabitants. You are as much of a monster to them as the Yoma are.

You turn and walk away without another thought. It is the way of the life you have. It is how it will always be. You will never enter the Holy City of Rabona. You will never live among men again.

"Hey!"

You stop, and watch as one of Rabona's famous knights runs towards you. You can't help but stare. Such a thing has never happened before. Humans always run away from you.

The man is out of breath by the time he reaches you, but he still offers a smile.

"Thank you," the man says when he catches his breath. His eyes trail back to the gate over and over. You wonder if the weight of thanking you was really worth him leaving his post. But he continues before you even think about asking. "We... I don't know what we would have done. My sister told me about one of them, and honestly... I'm not sure if we would be standing."

You look at the walls of Rabona. You remember when you were a human, when your nights were filled with stories of the Holy City. How the soldiers there are brave and self-sacrificing. How the god of Rabona looks over the holy land and blesses the righteous within the walls. How much you had wanted to visit the city, even once.

"It's fine," you say. "I'm glad I could help."

"I know we cannot pay you but..." The soldier unstraps a sword from his back. "Here. A token of thanks."

You take the sword. It is smaller than your claymore, and the metal shines differently in the light. The hilt is carved with an image of the god of Rabona. It is weightless and almost laughable.

It feels like the weight of the world is contained in it.

You accept with a smile. "This is a wonderful sword. Thank you."

The soldier smiles back and says his farewells before returning to the city. You watch the human's retreating figure. Something in you feels warm, and you almost laugh at yourself. Isley would have laughed at you if he were there.

You sheath the sword against your claymore and walk in the other direction.

That night, you use the smaller sword for the practice exercises that Isley taught you. It doesn't cut wood as well as the claymore, requiring even more strength just to get through the material. But it is light and moves in the precise way you want it to as you conduct your exercises. Sometimes, it even seems to glow in the firelight.

You smile to yourself and sheath the blade. Not a useless souvenir, you think. A fine sword.

In the next few months, you are awarded the Numbers 18, 16, and then 13. You also receive a moniker. You don't hear about it until all of the other warriors start calling you by the name. It is odd, but you don't think much about names during those months.

When you next meet Isley, he puts a hand on your shoulder and offers you a smile.

"Holy Sword Raki. I like it."

You laugh. It is not as grand as Isley's new title, but then again you don't think you could stand being called "The Silver King of the North."

The older warrior draws his claymore and points it at you. "I would like to spar against this 'Holy Sword Raki.' It's important to see how far you've progressed without me."

You draw your sword and nod. You make the first strike, and soon the two of you are moving at speeds you once considered impossible.

Isley focuses on the sword as you fight. You wonder what he sees in your movements that you have not seen yourself. You have obtained a new level of speed and precision with that sword. Your movements have gotten smoother. You, on the whole, are a step closer towards becoming the level of warrior that Isley is.

Isley still beats you, but it is not the same crushing defeat as it had been during your trainee days. The other warrior's face is glowing even as you fall.

"It's a well-crafted sword," he says later that night, examining the blade against the firelight. "I used to dream of swords like this when I was a human."

You remain silent, hoping for more. Isley rarely mentions his time before becoming a warrior. When he does it is always a fleeting comment, an almost worthless scrap that is impossible to build from. It makes you wonder if he was ever a human.

But once again, Isley changes the subject. "How far have you released your Yoki, Raki?"

"Thirty percent," you answer. You remember the feeling, the rush of power. It had taken you at least an hour to calm yourself. "It didn't feel... right."

"Interesting." He hands you back the sword and looks into the sky. "I've spoken to Chronos recently. He says he has gone over fifty."

"Fifty?" The number sounds heavy. Wrong. "We've been told not to release a lot. The Organization –"

"The Organization has been revising their policy," Isley says. "Supposedly the head researcher has found out that our safe limits are higher than first predicted."

You remember the rush of power. It was tantalizing. Calling you to release more and more.

"It still seems dangerous," you say. "No one knows what happens when you release it all."

"I am glad that we agree on that," Isley says. "Chronos has described it as a joy to release so much Yoki. As always, he doesn't seem to be thinking much about the impact he will have."

"It did feel good," you admit. "But... I don't know why, but it felt like I would destroy the world if I just released it all."

"Troubling, to say the least." Isley turns back to the fire. A frown is carved into his face. "I suggest you do not release so much Yoki unless you find it absolutely necessary. I do not care for what the Organization has to say on the matter. I don't think they fully understand the extent of what they have done."

"Right," you agree.

That night, you dream about the wound that slices through your chest. The thread is gone, and your organs spill out no matter what you do.

You are Number 7 when things change. The rumors get to you first before the man in black can tell you.

Something... happened.

Number 5, Evan, had gone to a village to stop one Yoma. In a day's time, the village was destroyed.

You try to ignore the rumor at first. What could have the strength to level a village in a day? A group of warriors could not do that so fast. A single Yoma was even more laughable. You even say so to your handler when he delivers the news. It's an impossible task.

It is only when Isley comes down from the north that you start to believe that something has gone wrong.

"I will explain when I come back," Isley promises. "Until then, do not release a single bit of your Yoki. No matter the circumstances."

You agree, and Isley is gone before you can say another word.

It is a week and three requests later before Isley returns. By then you are worrying. You know a group of six warriors have gone towards the destroyed village. What could need six warriors and take so long to complete? What could need the Number 1 of the Organization to be accompanied by other warriors?

When Isley returns, his first words spill out so fast that he sounds like a trainee. "Evan became a monster."

You stare, the shock paralyzing you. Isley doesn't call warriors "monsters." He said that warriors may be filled with Yoma guts, but were fundamentally different than the things that they slay. Warriors have some humanity left. Yoma do not.

"Evan released all of his power. They called it an 'awakening.' His body had... transformed. He didn't even look like a Yoma. He had grown to be as tall as a house, and his hands became pointed blades." Isley lets loose a sad chuckle. "He couldn't even pick up a sword anymore."

"Was he okay?" you ask. You have never met Evan, but an injury to any warrior always sits in your heart.

"You misunderstand me," Isley says. "I said that he didn't look like a Yoma. That does not mean that he did not become one."

"He... What?"

"We found him eating the guts of people in the town closest to the one he destroyed. And even in that first town..." Isley closes his eyes. "The corpses of the devoured were everywhere."

You sit down. There is a sudden pain in your chest.

"We... We gave up our humanity to stop Yoma," you say. "Not to become them."

"I know. However, there is not much else we can do." Isley shakes his head. His fists tremble, and he pounds them against his legs as if it would stop the tremors. "It is impossible for a human to detect a Yoma in hiding. And most humans are incapable of fighting a Yoma if they find one. Sticking Yoma guts and blood into our bodies is the only way to fight them."

"But that village. They say it was destroyed in a night!"

"But if we do not take this risk with our bodies, this continent will be overrun with Yoma." Isley sits down next to you, flexing his hands. "These bodies of ours are double-edged blades. We can save humans from Yoma. But if we are not careful, we could destroy them ourselves."

The two of you sit in silence. Every idea that comes to you is instantly shot down in your head. Isley, as always, is right. There is no other way.

You are given the Number 5 soon after. You almost throw up at the news.

In a month, another fifteen warriors awaken. In the next two months, many more follow. The news of each hurts you more and more.

Every time the news comes, Isley contacts you. Sometimes it is a message through the handlers. Sometimes he comes to see you himself. Each time, you can hear the desperate tone in his voice, whether it be his own or someone carrying his message. As your teacher, he feels responsible for you. As Number 1, he feels responsible for everyone.

Eventually, Isley sends a message to the remaining warriors to meet near Rabona. When you get there, there are only three.

"What about Chronos and Lars?" you ask. "I thought –"

"They've awakened last week," Rigaldo, Number 2, says. The two of you have never gotten along, an extension of his rivalry with Isley. However, his voice carries a gentle quality as he speaks to you. Your emotions, apparently, are still easily visible.

You recoil. "No."

"It was inevitable, Raki," Isley says. "Chronos and Lars both enjoy releasing their Yoki. They were never ones to temper their own desires."

You had seen Chronos two weeks ago. The two of you had sparred and Chronos had a cocky grin when you fell. You didn't say anything back as you were preoccupied trying to calm your own Yoki. With a sinking feeling, you realize you never once paid attention to how much power the other warrior had released.

The third warrior, Dauf, seems unaffected by the news. "We can just slay them?"

Rigaldo's cold demeanor returns as Isley answers the question. "It takes about four warriors to efficiently go after any of these Awakened Beings. And that is for an average one. Evan required six."

You shudder at the name. You still wear Evan's Number, having never fought the warrior to prove you deserve it.

"You are making it more complicated than it should be," Rigaldo says, turning to Isley. "You refused to release more than ten percent of your power when fighting Evan. If you had released just a bit more, we would have been able to –"

"I will not risk becoming what the others have become," Isley says. "I gave up my humanity to fight monsters. Not to become one."

"Hmph. Draw your sword, 'Silver King of the North.'" Rigaldo is already moving towards the clearing, his claymore out. "I cannot believe that the best warrior refuses to actually fight."

Panic rises in you. "I thought –"

Isley, however, ignores you and draws his own claymore. "It would do you well to learn some patience."

"If I win, I want you to follow my commands," Rigaldo says. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about these Awakened Beings."

"If you will do the same when I win."

Isley's Yoki ripples, almost unnoticeable against Rigaldo's. It is the only time you have ever seen a sign of Isley's anger.

"We're supposed to be figuring out how to solve this problem," you mutter.

Dauf, as always, remains oblivious.

The two of you remain by the sidelines. You want to stop them, but the difference between your strength and theirs is an abyss. The only thing you have are your words, and even Isley seems intent on ignoring you in order to fight Rigaldo. There is something to be said, you think, about how the Organization does not encourage friendship.

As the fight draws on, a new Yoki appears before your senses. It's not that of a Yoma's, and for a moment you worry that this is one of the Awakened Beings you have yet to see. Before you think it through, you draw your holy sword and run to the area.

You were not expecting a girl with blonde hair and silver eyes.

"A warrior?" you ask. The only warriors that you know of are male and are older than this... this child. But you cannot say that her powers are inconsiderable; you can sense the underlying strength contained in her.

"Oh, are you one of the remaining male warriors?" the girl asks. She looks at you with curiosity in her silver eyes.

"Are they switching to females?" It is almost unheard of; a female knight. A female warrior.

The girl just smiles. "They said we are better at controlling our energy than males. The two fighting over there are not exactly proving anyone wrong."

You ignore the quip. "Who are you?"

"Riful. Number 7."

One of your old numbers. You almost smile at the thought. "I'm Raki. Number 5."

"Holy Sword Raki? It's a pleasure to meet the older generation."

The two of you begin walking back towards the clearing. You can still feel the anger as clear as ever, but you try to ignore it. You can only hope Isley and Rigaldo do not to lose themselves in their fight. If anything, their pride will stop them. So you instead focus your attention on the new warrior and the curiosity that she represents.

"Are there other female warriors?" you ask. As far as you have heard, the only warriors have been male. Your handler may know more, but it is hard to trust the man in black sometimes.

"There are ten of us right now. But they've been training more."

Ten female warriors who do not awaken as easily as male warriors. It is a large idea to wrap your head around.

By the time you and Riful arrive to the clearing, Rigaldo is out of breath. His Yoki seems to encase the field. Isley is also breathing hard, and you can see the struggle in his mind whether to release any of his own Yoki.

"You'll cause more trouble this way than help," Riful calls out to them, half in amusement and half in annoyance.

Isley and Rigaldo both stop, staring at Riful. Isley opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He sheathes his sword. You can see annoyance reflecting in his eyes.

Dauf, of course, is the first to speak. "Who are you?"

"Riful. Number 7." She looks at Dauf, and quickly holds her nose. "You stink. How can anyone stand to be near you?"

Dauf looks down at his own body, sniffing. You have to stifle your laughter.

"A female warrior?" Rigaldo asks. "This is an insult." Before you can say anything, he walks away without so much of a glance at you.

Isley's frown is more pronounced. "Does the Organization think that having more warriors around will fix this problem? The continent will be overrun with new Awakened Beings in weeks."

Riful smiles. It is not a kind smile, however. "The Organization thinks that having female warriors who do not awaken as easily as the male warriors can help fix your problem."

"My problem?" Isley turns away, and you can feel his anger rippling through him once again. "I see that the Organization has already taken up a solution. There is nothing more that I need to do."

"Isley!"

Your call does nothing; the warrior is walking away, towards the north where he is still assigned. His emotions, his anger, trail behind him.

"Uh, it was nice to meet you!" you tell Riful. You run after Isley before she can respond.

Isley is furious. He does well not to release his Yoki the way that Rigaldo has, but that does not make it any easier to be in his presence. You remain silent as you walk besides him. You know you cannot force an answer out. Isley doesn't work like that.

"Female warriors," Isley mutters after some time has passed. "What is the Organization thinking?"

"Is it possible?" you ask. "That female warriors do not awaken as easily as male warriors?"

"That is certainly what the Organization wants us to believe." Isley looks back at the field. There is a small smile appearing on his lips, but you know it is not sincere. "Whether it holds true or not... We shall see."

Another month goes by. There are more female warriors, and from the stories that you hear only one of them awakens. You are not sure if that constitutes as being impressive or not.

Out of the remaining male warriors, Dauf is the next to awaken. Like Chronos and Lars, Dauf's awakening is expected. This fact does not make it any less painful.

In the next month, you are paired with Rigaldo to hunt down an Awakened Being. A former Number 39. A former comrade.

"He was extremely weak as a warrior. This should be simple," Rigaldo says when the handler tells you of the assignment.

You remember Number 39, a boy in your training group. He was like the other boys, dreaming of saving the town that sold him to the Organization. Dreaming of being a hero.

You turn to the handler. "Aren't there supposed to be more warriors? Even for a weak Awakened Being..."

"Isley is coming from the north," the handler says. "But this request cannot be held off any longer."

Rigaldo's Yoki flares at the name. "We do not need him. We can take the Awakened Being on by ourselves. I can take it on by myself."

"Wait, Rigaldo –"

But the warrior is already off, a blur that moves towards the afflicted town. You stumble trying to catch up to the Number 2 of the Organization. Despite all of your training, the gap between your strength and his feels enormous.

When you reach the town, Rigaldo is already fighting the monster. The creature doesn't look at all like what the warrior once did. The movements are erratic, hungry. You cannot find a trace of humanity in the former Number 39. It will make it easier, you think, to kill him.

You draw your claymore, looking for a weak spot. The beast is armored, and you have to wonder just how much of your energy you will need to pierce through.

That's when Rigaldo's Yoki engulfs the area. It's rising rapidly and you can just count all of the warning signs that he goes pass. In an instant, you realize that he has to be past seventy percent and still going.

"Rigaldo!"

The other warrior takes no notice of you. You catch a glimpse of him, as he stares into the eyes of the Awakened Being. His claymore is on the ground. His features are filled with pure rage.

He passes his limits. The resultant energy sends you flying.

You lose consciousness for a brief moment as you are launched against a building. When you regain your senses, the former Number 39 is lying in pieces in the streets. Rigaldo, or the monster that was once Rigaldo, stands in the center of the street. Unlike the other Awakened Beings you have seen, Rigaldo retains much of a humanoid form. But his head has changed. It reminds you of pictures you have seen in old storybooks, ones likely still in the tainted house you once called home.

A beast, you think. A monster.

When you hear the screams of the townspeople, you draw your holy sword and run out. You do not have the power to kill a former Number 2. But surely, surely you have enough power to hold him off and give people a chance to escape.

You try to attack first, but your sword strikes dirt. The speed that Rigaldo has gained by awakening is incomparable. You don't even see him move when he slams against you, sending you flying once again. Suddenly you feel like the human you once were, watching some other creature obtain speeds you thought were impossible.

Rigaldo attacks at full force before you can even blink. You cough, blood spilling from your lips. You swing your sword wildly. You hope, wish, pray that you will land a hit. But nothing that you do can touch the Awakened Being. Instead you are being battered like a rag doll, as if you were not even a challenge.

You wonder if death will be fast enough to prevent you from awakening yourself.

More injuries, more blood.

"Raki!"

You move at the sound of your name, but then RIgaldo slashes you with his claws. You lose consciousness, and expect nothing more.

The pain you feel when you open your eyes makes you cry out. You can't remember ever feeling so useless, so debilitated.

"Raki?"

You turn your head. Isley hovers over you, a look of worry overtaking his features. Behind him you can see walls and a ceiling. A house. A house probably in the middle of nowhere where humans cannot judge.

"I'm fine," you mutter.

"You are not fine." Isley gives a pointed look at your torso. You follow his gaze, observing all of the bandages that obscure the original cut that has never left.

The memories come back at once. "The town! Rigaldo!" You try to sit up, only to fall back to the bed when your body cannot support you.

"There is nothing you could have done," Isley says. "It took everything that I had just to get you out of there."

Processing the words make your apparent headache get worse. "Then... The town is gone, isn't it?"

"Yes," Isley says. He moves away from the bed. "Rigaldo destroyed it."

"I..." You close your eyes. "I could have stopped him."

"Fighting an Awakened Being is hard, and a former single-digit –"

"No. Rigaldo had gone ahead. If I was faster... If I had noticed..."

"Rigaldo is responsible for his own actions. He knew his own limits."

"But –"

"Rest, Raki." Isley returns by your side, holding out a tray of food. "If you can manage, you should eat. Regain your strength."

You move your arm, and try to keep the hisses of pain from coming out of your mouth. "Sorry. I think I need more sleep," you say.

"Then get some." He offers you a smile, but it isn't hard to find the pain underlying it. "Heal up, Raki."

You close your eyes, and let the darkness claim you. The nightmares come just as easily.

Isley cares for you during the week you heal. You cannot remember ever taking so long to heal your body. Then again, you cannot remember when you were so close to death.

"Is the Organization going to send warriors after him?" you ask one night. You cannot get the village out of your head. The rubble. The remains of the former Number 39 in pieces as the beast Rigaldo has become roars above. How you could not even see Rigaldo move before falling.

"No. They are still building up their forces of female warriors. It will take time. And to track down every Awakened Being on the continent..." Isley frowns, staring at the fire he built. "There is talk about waiting for requests to come in. They want to treat this whole matter as if they are just some new type of Yoma."

"But... But the humans! Surely –"

"Someone has come up with a name. 'Voracious Eaters.' It's something that we can call the Awakened Beings without telling them the truth."

The anger swells within you. "We are supposed to protect them. If they do not know –"

"Leave it, Raki." Isley stands, placing a stern hand on your shoulder. "If they remain hiding in the environments, they will likely cause little trouble."

You force yourself to remain silent. You want to argue, to remind Isley that this is wrong. But the sadness on Isley's features tells you that silence may be what the other warrior needs.

The next night, you speak again.

"I wish there was something more that we can do," you say.

Isley gives a sad smile. "What can we do? We have done everything that we can, and yet it is not enough."

"I don't know. But..." You look towards the sky. "When I was younger, my mother used to tell me that the stars are the souls of those who've died."

"A child's fairy tale."

"I know. But... It always made me feel better," you admit. "To think that souls move on to a better place when passing. That they were watching over us.

"But awakening doesn't let a warrior die. It keeps him here. And it makes him a monster that he never wanted to be." You can feel the tears starting to run from your silver eyes. You use you sleeve to wipe them away. "Sorry. I must sound like an idiot."

"Only a warm-hearted fool," Isley teases. He passes you some fruit. "It makes you a good person, Raki. Don't ever forget that."

You eat, Isley's words sitting at the bottom of your stomach.

"You're a good person too," you say after some time has passed. "You've given me everything."

"Everything?" Isley says. "I did no such thing."

"I hated myself when I was at the Organization. But you gave me a purpose. And you trained me." You look towards your sword, leaning against the doorway. "Now I'm Number 5. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

Isley falls silent. When you look towards him, he gives you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"You have given me hope, Raki," he says. "And for that, I must be the one to thank you."

You remember Isley's words, even when he strikes you down days later. When he leaves, you force yourself to stand and follow him. Isley is fast, but you manage to grab your sword and follow him as he approaches an Awakened Being. You yourself have no strength to fight alongside him, but you stay and watch.

It takes you too long to realize what Isley's plan is.

It comes as a rush. Isley releases all of his Yoki at once, and you brace yourself for any knockback. When the dust clears, you can only stare. His form is massive, and the Yoma energy contained in it even more so. He looks like a creature from a fairy tale, half-horse and half-human. His arms have become weapons. It is perhaps the only confirmation you will ever get that Isley was a fighter even before becoming half-Yoma. The cut that went through his torso, the sign that he was a warrior, is gone.

Part of you holds out hope. Surely Isley, the Number 1 of the male warriors, can retain some shred of humanity. Surely he wouldn't become a monster like the others.

When Isley kills the Awakened Being and turns his sights on you, you have no choice but to fight.

Once again you wake to intense pain. But the memories come to you faster, and all you can do is cry.

Riful appears sometime after you have cried yourself back to sleep. You find her sitting next to your bed when you wake for the second time.

"Isley was a fool," she says. Her words are soft, but you know enough about her to know there is loathing in her voice.

"Yeah," you agree. "I know."

She hands you some food, and you accept. She talks throughout.

"No one maintains their humanity when awakening. He should know this," she says. "What did he think he would accomplish? And now he's become one of them. Even if he slays more Awakened Beings, he will cause more trouble than help. Who would be able to kill him?"

You try not to dwell on the question.

"Where did he go?" you ask.

"The north," Riful says. "The Silver King of the North, even in his current state. It's probably better this way."

"Better? How can this be better?"

The look that Riful gives you is one part scathing, one part sympathetic. "He has enough power to conquer this continent if he so chooses. As long as he has the desire not to, we will survive."

You want to tell her you don't want to survive, that you never once considered a life without Isley, but you hold your tongue.

There is a knock at the door. As Riful goes to answer, you try and list your injuries. Everything aches. Your leg was almost cut clean off. The injury there is still healing, trying to reassemble you. Your arms sting; you can feel the muscle still regenerating in your sword arm. The hole in your torso, the one that has never healed, has new thread holding it together.

Riful clears her throat, and you turn to see your handler. The man in black remains as stoic as always. You can't help but be jealous; how could someone look so unaffected by all of these events?

"Number 5. You are to retire."

You stare. "What?"

"You have enough power to rival the former Number 2 –"

The protest instantly forms on your tongue. "Rigaldo? But he was stronger than me – faster than –"

"Rigaldo's speed was his strongest asset. In every other way, your powers were growing enough to rival his," Riful says.

"We are already having difficulty in dealing with Isley awakening. We do not need his protégé to follow suit," the handler continues. "As such, you are to retire from being an active warrior."

"What am I supposed to do?" you ask. Such a thing has never happened before.

"Suppress your energy. As long as you do not interfere with the Organization, you will be left alone." The handler turns to leave. His message, apparently, is final. "You've done well otherwise. Think of this as Isley's last wish."

You remember Isley's blade cutting through you, leaving wounds shallow enough to ignore at the time. You wonder what happened to his sword.

"What am I going to do?" you ask Riful. "No town would accept a warrior to live with them."

She scoffs. "Then live elsewhere. It really isn't that hard to figure out."

"And do what? My whole purpose was to kill Yoma. I'm useless now."

"Hmph. No one said you had to stop completely. They left you with your swords, haven't they? Get stronger, if you really cannot think of anything else." Riful crosses her arms. "Are you really that stupid?"

You ignore her question. "I... I would rather have fought and died with Isley. I just... He saved me. I didn't want to leave him."

"He left you. Maybe he knew that you would have followed him otherwise," Riful says.

You mull on her words as she gathers her own armor and claymore.

"I've spent too much time here. I have an assignment," she says.

"Riful?"

She gives you a scathing look. "What is it now?"

"If you are asked to kill..." It's a struggle to say the words. "...kill Isley, come find me."

"Oh. Is that what you're going to do?" You can hear her sigh of annoyance from across the room. "Fine. But don't you dare awaken. I will kill you myself if you do."

The laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It has been a long time since you have laughed.

You find a valley hidden by mountains on all sides. You build yourself a little house, bare of anything but the essentials. You store your armor away and manage to barter for some clothes from a passing merchant. You feel alone, but you try your hardest to forget the feeling.

Every day, you train.

You continue practicing with your swords, both the claymore and the holy sword. Riful had said that you were going to rival Rigaldo one day. Maybe, if you practice hard enough, you can rival his Awakened form.

There are some fleeting memories of Isley's form embedded in your head. You remember wondering if it was some proof that Isley was a weapons master before becoming a silver-eyed warrior. So the next time you need to slip into a town, you obtain a shield and lance. The time after that, a spear and a bow. And after that, an axe and mace.

It takes you a long time to master each one. In most cases, you have to sneak into towns and watch the knights there. You burn the memories of their stances, their movements, everything that you can, into your head. Once a year you travel to Rabona and wait outside the city. The knights there take their trainees outside the city gates to practice. You can sit there for a whole week, only watching. Sometimes you imagine that you see the knight who gave you the sword. Then you remember that humans can die from old age, while warriors are either killed or awaken. You pray for his soul instead.

When you return to your little house in the mountains, you practice what you see.

Rumors also come your way from time to time. Soon there are enough silver-eyed female warriors that the townspeople refer to them as witches. They are less likely to awaken, and you sometimes hear stories of black cards and ending friends' lives. It's a better system now, you think.

It is not flawless, however. You hear that Riful, the girl having become the Number 1 of the female generation, awakens. The two of you may not have been friends, but her words gave you hope after Isley awakened. She would have been annoyed with herself for creating such a problem that had no solution.

Her promise to slay you if you were to become a monster is no longer valid. You start keeping your Yoki to yourself, hidden from the rest of the world.

Years and years later, you hear of Luciela the Failed Experiment. The latest Number 1 to awaken into a monster. That one sits heavy in your heart; you hear plenty of rumors about the Organization and their new phase of research. A new line of warriors to combat the Yoma and Awakened Beings, which so far has only produced a new Abyssal One.

No matter the news, you stay in the mountains and train. You cannot save everyone. But there will be one day, you think. One day you will save Isley.