Journey to Become the Zenith

Ice That Burns Beneath

Lane woke to an empty space.

A sudden touch on the fabric - empty. Cold. Her fingers moved without thinking.

Victor wasn’t there.

Finding her missing too, he scanned the yard again.

A moment passed before she moved at all, eyes fixed on the ceiling above. She stayed like that without breathing, just watching the cracks spread across the white surface.

Up she sat then.

Silently.

Methodically.

Fingers moved slow but sure while fastening the sash, then smoothing down the fabric of each sleeve. Outside, nothing shook - her motions stayed sharp, breath even, face giving away nothing.

Inside?

A storm.

Victor was so intense last night...

That day, he grabbed both of us - me first, then Videl. Maybe holding back wasn’t an option anymore.

A faint lift touched the corners of her mouth.

Perhaps boredom crept in, bit by bit, on his part. Maybe I started fading into the background.

Fear cut sharper than she cared to say.

Lane held on tight, though never loud about it. Stillness masked how he claimed what he wanted. Control sat quietly behind his eyes. Yet everything around him felt marked, somehow.

It was always her way - keeping Victor close, never passing him around. Others didn’t fit into that space beside him. Her hold stayed firm, quiet, without explanation. Nobody else got a turn.

And yet -

If love found him... suppose he picked a person...

So if she stood beside him, how would that shape her role?

Fight him?

What if you stayed close instead?

Faint pressure built where her hand met fabric. A quiet grip tugging at the edge.

If love gives him more strength... I’ll stand by his side.

Yet the worry stayed just beneath the surface.

Last night showed what really happened.

Maybe he stays close because I’m around. Could be that my presence matters more than it seems.

A warmth spread behind her ribs, quiet and slow. Yet her mouth stayed still, unmoving. Not a curve, not a flicker broke through.

From the time she was small, words never came easily for Lane. Feelings surged inside her - bright, sharp, too much at times - yet none of it broke through. What lived within stayed sealed away, like something seen but untouchable.

Funny how a grin could seem so off. Jagged at the edges. Not quite real.

One time, she caught a glimpse of herself attempting a grin in the glass. Then nothing.

It frightened her.

That was something she preferred keeping away from Victor’s eyes.

And yet -

He always understood.

Like he saw straight through to what she felt inside, silence between them speaking louder than any sentence ever could.

Footsteps quiet after the last button was done, out she went into the open air, then up - soft as breath - to land on the inn’s shingled back.

Frost bit at the skin when dawn broke. A sharp coolness hung between the trees as light spread across the field.

Fingers curled into the fabric as shadows filled the room.

As Victor had shown her.

A hush carried the force beyond its source, weaving into the streets like something felt but never seen. Threads of it slipped between houses, soft as breath on glass.

She searched.

Nothing.

No Victor.

No Videl.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Was it them who walked away?

A notion slipped in, unplanned.

Was I... abandoned?

A tightness seized her ribs the moment she stepped through the door.

Frozen stillness shaped her frame out there. A quiet chill lived behind her eyes. Sharp edges held every movement tight.

Then -

There.

A trace I’ve felt before. That energy lingers like an old echo.

Victor.

Approaching.

Footsteps began even as her mind stayed behind.

Bare feet slapped against warm tile as she sprinted forward, touching down just as shadows peeled away from the northern edge. The air hung still when they stepped into view, one slightly ahead of the other, silhouettes sharp under pale moonlight.

Victor.

Videl.

Lane came to a halt right before their eyes.

”Where have you two been?”

She spoke without care.

Flat.

Fires raged beneath her skin, quiet but fierce.

”Oh, we tested our new weapons,” Videl answered cheerfully, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. ”Went out to spar for a bit.”

Frowning just a little, Victor looked over toward Lane. A quiet breath slipped out then, almost like a whisper.

”No need to be angry. You were sleeping so soundly. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He knew.

He was aware, naturally.

Mana never lied.

Lane spoke without fuss. ”I get it,” he said.

But inside -

He understood me.

Still, my expression stays the same.

Still sounding just like before.

We understand each other without speaking. Silence fits us just fine.

Something deeper ties us together.

A faint grin tugged at Victor’s lips as he looked her way.

”Let’s go. We need to head to the Adventurers Guild. You’re coming with me. Videl, you don’t need to. It’s only Lane and I being tested.”

”Sure,” Videl said. ”I’ll head out of town to test Rika’s abilities.”

Her eyes met his, full of unspoken thought.

”Don’t do anything too crazy.”

Victor snorted.

”How about you? Stop sticking your nose into my person’s business. Keep being a busybody and someday you’ll get stabbed in the back.”

A faint crease appeared between her brows, the blue of her gaze tightening. A slow curve touched her lips after that.

Calm.

Challenging.

”I’ll do whatever I want,” she replied evenly. ”If you don’t like it... you’re strong enough. Try stopping me.”

Victor blinked.

Then laughed.

”You little - ”

Just then, she spun around. He hadn’t even reached the last word.

”Shut up, you jerk.”

Only steps ahead, she left him standing there, the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth despite herself.

Fading into the distance, she left Victor standing there, a crooked smile tugging at his lips as he slowly moved his head from side to side.

Lane stood back, watching the moment unfold without a word. Quietly taking it all in.

Heat lingered in that space. It stayed without rushing away.

Dangerous warmth.

She felt it.

And said nothing.

Outside the Guild

Outside the Adventurers Guild, Clara held a fresh spear tight. Sunlight bounced off its smooth metal surface.

She looked prepared.

Alert.

Waiting.

”Hey Clara,” Victor called lazily as he approached. ”Nice to see you’re energetic today.”

She didn’t smile.

”Enough chatter. Are you ready for your test?”

Up went her spear, the point halting a breath from his skin.

”As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied calmly. ”Also, stop pointing that thing at me. Or do you want me to break it again?”

Her jaw tightened.

The spear lowered.

Her eyes moved toward Lane.

”And you?”

”Ready.”

”Good. We leave immediately.”

Off she went, boots hitting pavement before anyone could reply, headed straight for the northern edge of Fantom City.

He gave a small shoulder lift, then walked behind.

Lane followed close, eyes locked on Clara’s shoulders. Behind her he moved, watching every step she took. The space between them stayed small, his attention never drifting from where she led.

Pride fills her, more than she can carry.

She irritates me.

Still... Victor’s attention fixed on her long ago.

Lane exhaled slowly.

If she ends up with him... then so be it.

Something about thinking felt sour. Bitterness clung to the idea like smoke.

If taking her life could happen... I’d have acted when she first ignored him. What stops me isn’t doubt - it’s timing. Her words cut deep, each one louder than the last. That moment changed everything, though silence followed. He never saw it coming, not even close. Every insult built up, slow then sudden. One day disrespect crossed into danger. Thinking back now, regret tastes different. Not acting felt like winning - until it didn’t.

Still, her gaze held no warmth.

Unmoved.

Inside, fire roared.

The Dungeon Entrance

Far past the northern gates, they kept on walking.

Footsteps slowed as rock replaced soil beneath them.

A shape loomed ahead, wide, dropping down where light vanished.

Floating up came the chill from down under.

”This is a dungeon,” Clara said, voice steady. ”Normally, reaching the third floor grants D-rank. Fifth floor - C. Ninth - B. Fifteen - A. Eighteen and above - S.”

Her eyes flicked toward Victor.

”But since you’ll receive B-rank regardless, you only need to show me some of your strength.”

Victor tilted his head.

”How many floors does this dungeon have?”

”No one knows,” Clara replied. ”The previous Guild Master reached the twentieth floor. Couldn’t defeat the guardian there. No one has gone further.”

Silence lingered.

A hush of air brushed the rock.

A shine flickered in Victor’s eyes, gold like old coins. His gaze held it there, steady yet alive.

”How interesting.”