THE FALLEN ONE (TFO)

"Oh really? You think you're closer to Mercy than most of us?" Edward raised an amused brow as he leaned back with a wide grin, swirling a heavy glass of homemade buttermilk in his hand. His tone was light, teasing — but it carried just enough bite to draw attention.

The group was gathered under the warm evening hues that spilt through the open windows of Sia's manor. A rare lull in their chaotic lives, and for once, no one was bleeding or on edge. Even Mercy — usually too aloof to entertain these moments — had stayed, seated quietly at the far end, more observer than participant. Like Edward, he knew that peaceful nights like these were few and numbered.

Lucius didn't flinch. "Of course," he replied, eyes glinting. "Any doubts?"

His tone was confident — maybe too confident, given the room. That drew a chuckle from Sara, who leaned into her seat, and an amused smirk from Lavya, arms crossed, watching like a hawk waiting for the trap to spring.

Sia, standing near the window with her arms folded, caught the banter and smiled faintly. The energy in the room was infectious — playful, unguarded. Sia and Lucius had both decided to delay their guests' departure till after dinner, unwilling to break the mood.

Edward's grin widened as he leaned forward, his next words carefully chosen. "Alright then, tell me his full name. Not 'Mercy.' His actual name."

Lucius blinked.

He tilted his head, confused, then frowned. "Wait… that's not his real name?"

Mercy said nothing. Didn't even look in his direction. His expression remained unreadable — calm, distant, unreadable in the way only Mercy could be. That silent indifference, ironically, said a lot.

Lucius's brows furrowed. "Is it… Merc?" he guessed, reaching.

A collective shake of heads followed — Edward, Sia, even Adrianna stifled quiet laughter. Lavya and Sara, however, mirrored Lucius's confusion. They had no idea either.

That only made it worse.

"You're telling me none of us know?" Lucius muttered, glancing between them, mildly offended. "You've all just been calling him Mercy this whole time?"

"Oh, we know," Edward said, almost smugly. "But we earned that right. You want the truth? Earn it."

Lucius narrowed his eyes.

Edward's tone shifted — not dramatic, but definitely firmer. "His name's not just a name. It's a key. You say it in the right circles, and doors open — guards move aside, threats back off, people listen. As long as you're inside the Seven Sister Cities of the East, it can get you out of more trouble than a mana permit ever will."

At first, Lucius didn't believe it — until he glanced at Sia and Adrianna. Both women nodded solemnly. No smiles. No exaggeration.

Lavya, still rubbing his chin thoughtfully, murmured, "Is it really that big of a deal?"

"Yes," Edward answered without hesitation. "It's more than a name — it's a weight. A history. If Mercy gives it to you, it means he's placed a part of that weight on you."

The room quieted a little after that. Even Lucius had to concede, the mystery had substance. He wasn't just being tested — he was being measured.

Fueled by a fresh burst of resolve, Lucius, Lavya, and Sara huddled, whispering, theorising, sifting through fragments of rumours and half-truths. Sara brought up an old tale about a soldier with no past. Lavya remembered a wanted poster that vanished overnight. Lucius recalled something Mercy once said during training, a name that didn't belong to anyone in the city's registry.

But despite all their efforts, they found nothing.

"Alright," Lucius finally admitted, raising both hands. "We give up. For now."

Edward chuckled, satisfied. He leaned back, taking a slow sip of his buttermilk before turning to Mercy. "You gonna tell them now?"

Mercy's gaze drifted lazily toward the group, finally acknowledging their existence. Then, with his usual calm — the kind of calm that made it impossible to tell whether he was amused or deadly serious — he spoke:

"Those seated with us know my name because they've proven themselves. To me. To this city. It wasn't given; it was earned. Should the three of you desire the same—" he paused, his voice steady, "—prove yourself. Do something. For yourself, and for others. Only then will you be worthy of that knowledge."

It wasn't said with arrogance. If anything, it was too casual. But that lack of emphasis only made the weight behind his words feel heavier.

Lucius looked at him, half-annoyed, half-intrigued. "So we're supposed to risk our lives… for a name?"

"Yes," Mercy said without missing a beat.

Edward burst out laughing, nearly choking on his drink.

Sia rolled her eyes. Adrianna smiled quietly to herself.

The conversation gradually shifted — the weight of Mercy's name fading into new tales about mana beasts in the Outer Rim. The kind that tore through caravans and left claw marks taller than men. Everyone chimed in, and the banter returned — louder now, more animated.

But Lucius's mind wandered.

He didn't hear half the stories. All he could think about was Mercy's name — and the way he'd said it. Calm, impersonal, absolute. What could be hidden in a name so powerful that even Sia had to earn it?

A few minutes later, Lucius and Lav excused themselves to help prepare dinner. Sia moved to follow, but Adrianna gently touched her arm. "Let them handle it," she said. "They're more than capable." She gave the same gentle reminder to Sara, who looked ready to bolt after them as well. "You're a guest, not the Machangels' maid," she teased.

Sara hesitated — then slowly sat back down. As she did, Rebecca moved closer, settling beside her with quiet warmth despite plenty of space around. She did not explain the sudden closeness, just a knowing smile that only deepened Sara's curiosity.

Then Rebecca gestured for the group to listen. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and something sharper — a rare seriousness that drew everyone in like a whispered secret.

"Wait," Adrianna asked, "can Lucius and Lav hear us?"

Edward leaned slightly, listening. "Nope. They're too far."

Satisfied, Rebecca leaned forward and said, "Good. Then let me tell you what I heard..."

The fire crackled quietly. Attention snapped back to her.

And just like that, the name and the mystery behind it were forgotten... For now.

***

"There's a new rumour, amongst the hunters... and whispers of it, amongst the adventurers," Rebecca began, her voice carrying a mysterious weight as she leaned forward. "One that's... 'darker', more absurd than usual."

She dragged out the word darker just enough to snag everyone's attention, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. It worked — even Sia, who hated dramatics, shifted slightly in her seat.

Gathered in the dimly lit hall were Rebecca, Adrianna, Mercy, Edward, Sia, and Sara — the core group. The ones trusted enough to hear whispers that weren't ready for young, reckless ears. Notably absent were Lucius and Lavya — deliberately excluded. This meeting only requires sensible minds. 

Mercy and Edward already knew what Rebecca was about to share. They had authorised it, after all, though judging by their stiff shoulders, they weren't entirely at ease with the decision.

Rebecca continued, drawing the room tighter around her words like a spider spinning silk.

"There've been sightings," she said, letting the words hang just long enough to test Sia's patience. "Unusual sightings. All across the Outer Rim and even skirting the border regions."

Sia didn't even try to hide her scowl. "Spit it out, Rebecca."

Rebecca grinned, satisfied, and finally relented.

"Figures. Dark ones. Manifestations... according to the reports. They hover above the ground, shaped almost like us — two arms, two legs, a torso, a head — but cloaked entirely in shadow. They look like something straight out of an old nightmare — you know, like the Grim Reaper stories we scare kids with."

The hall fell silent.

Heavy.

Even the hearth's crackling seemed to hush itself.

Sara, seated nearest the window, shrank back slightly. Her knuckles turned white around her cup. She had always harboured a quiet fear of ghost-like apparitions — this rumour was practically stitched from her worst dreams.

Adrianna — ever the scholar — leaned forward, intrigued despite herself.

"Can you describe them in more detail?" she asked. "Historical records sometimes mention shadow entities. Maybe there's a precedent we're missing."

Rebecca tapped her lip thoughtfully, trying to recall.

"Well... from what I gathered, heard from here and there, they're... tall. Looming, even. Completely shrouded in darkness — not just black, but the absence of light, if that makes sense. They wear these deep, black hoods. You can't see faces — just an endless pit of darkness. And they don't walk. They glide — hovering inches above the ground, without using their legs."

Sara stood up so fast her chair screeched across the floor.

"I-, I'm sorry... Excuse me... please, th- thank you!"

Her voice trembled despite her best efforts. She dipped a shallow bow, clutching the edge of her tunic for stability, then hurried out toward the kitchen.

Rebecca called after her, voice unusually soft.

"It's just a rumour, Sara. Probably made up by those ever-so-proud hunters again to scare greenhorns."

But even Rebecca didn't fully believe it, and Sara seemed to know that, too. Her footsteps quickened down the hall.

Mercy and Edward exchanged a brief glance — something unspoken passing between them — and silently permitted Sara's retreat. Rebecca scowled, disappointed after losing an audience, but didn't push further.

Sia drummed her fingers against the table. Her mind was already racing ahead.

"You said none of these... have attacked anyone yet?"

"Right," Rebecca nodded. "They've only been spotted. No injuries. No disappearances — yet." As if they're the ones as well, spotting humans for the very first time... This was Rebecca's theory that popped up as soon as she heard these unusual tales of encounter.

Hunters were different from adventurers, Sia mused grimly.

Hunters specialised in mana beasts. Combat. Blood. They didn't scare easily, nor did they waste breath on baseless rumours or spreading such rumours. 

Adventurers, on the other hand, had broader interests — escort missions, relic retrieval, exploration and hunting of course - they were prone to embellishments.

But for hunters to spread a rumour like this? It carried weight.

Rebecca's somewhat playful tone faded as she reached the heart of the matter.

"But..." she said, voice lowering, "about two weeks ago, three hunters from the Omega Faction encountered one of these things near Manisk."

At the mention of Manisk — the dangerous sector beyond the Cliff Region, bordering the true wilderness — Sia sat up straighter.

"They tried to engage it," Rebecca continued. "Weapons drawn. Spells ready. Full force."

A pause.

Heavier this time.

Not theatrical — but grave.

"And?" Adrianna whispered.

"They couldn't touch it," Rebecca said simply. "Not their blades. Not their spells. Nothing worked. Their weapons — and their bodies — passed straight through it like it wasn't even there. Like it wasn't flesh and blood. Just... shadow."

Sia exhaled sharply.

"Wraiths," she muttered. "For fuck's sake, just call them Wraiths."

Rebecca chuckled softly, dryness still evident, "Sure. Wraiths."

The name fit like a snapped puzzle piece.

"They couldn't restrain it," Rebecca added. "Couldn't touch it. Couldn't trap it. Nothing worked. It was like... it didn't exist fully in our world."

Mercy's jaw was clenched tight enough to pop. Edward had gone still, a faint shimmer of defensive mana flickering around his fingertips — an unconscious reaction... even though they were the ones to inform Rebecca about these wraiths.

Adrianna, pale-faced, clutched the small silver locket she always wore, lips moving silently. A habit whenever the conversation veered into the monstrous or the unnatural.

Sia rose from her chair, giving Rebecca a deep, respectful nod.

"Thank you. And... thank you for not involving Lucius in this."

She turned toward Mercy and Edward, a rare softness touching her stern features.

"You two thought ahead. As usual."

Rebecca smiled faintly.

"Figured he doesn't need this cloud hanging over him right now. Especially with his eighteenth birthday — and his right to free passage into the Outer Rims — fresh."

Sia nodded in agreement.

The last thing Lucius needed was whispers of untouchable Wraiths haunting his steps... and knowing him, he'll definitely go out of his way to investigate. 

But Mercy and Edward didn't relax.

If anything, a fresh layer of tension tightened between them — a silent conversation only they seemed to understand.

Before anyone could press further, Lavya strode into the hall, voice bright as ever.

"Dinner's ready! Five-star service tonight — courtesy of yours truly, the MasterChef himself and the ever-so-serious grumpy brat... and yes, Sara didn't burn anything this time!"

Sara followed close behind him, carrying a tray. Her face was composed again, but her eyes darted nervously toward the others while effortlessly ignoring Lav's commentary. 

Lucius appeared next, wiping his hands on a towel, his dark brown eyes scanning the room sharply.

The shift in atmosphere hit him instantly — heavy, charged, like a suppressed storm about to break.

Mercy met his gaze for just a fraction of a second.

A glance.

A flicker.

That was all Lucius needed.

He straightened subtly, his senses sharpening.

Mercy had a mission for him.