Sundamar pressed a finger to his lips, unsure why he enjoyed seeing the dismembered being. It was dead but he taunted it all the same.
The girl who held his heart had escaped this. She still lived and was nearby. He knew because he felt it. If his body wasn’t drawn to her, his broadsword was.
But first, he had a mess to clean up and a nest to clear out. He raised his sword, now ablaze with white light, opening the skies, and severed the first head.
One bloodcurdling slice and the soul of the beast sank into the ground.
One arching swipe and two more joined the first.
It was only during the rare moments of battle did he appreciate not having a pair of wings of his own. Only during battle could he spin his giant sword and sever Sonhadra in half.
Wings be damned.
***
YAHIRO
She dreamed of sparkles. Not the gaudy store-bought ones, but the ones that were created by the light. Sparkles that reflected off of a cubic zirconia window-chime, the likes of which her little sister collected when they were children. They hung next to toy unicorns, fake wands covered in gemstones, and the nag champa incense piles always found in their foyer.
But these sparkles were different. They were a million little spotlights created by the sun’s rays moving through the trees. The breeze shifted the leaves like an exodus of monarchs, making the trees glitter although when in reality, it was an illusion. It didn’t stop her from becoming mesmerized.
“What’s on your mind, Yahiro-chan?”
She peeled her gaze away from the trees to look at her papa. It took her a moment to blink the sunspots from her eyes. “The sun.”
“It’s a beautiful one.” He lifted a cup to his lips.
“There’s only one sun.” She felt smart correcting her otou-chan. He was her everything, her parents were everything, and her younger sister held her love. Yahiro loved them to the point of pain. She loved them like she loved the fake sparkles just then.
“If you think so. Your world is large, yes?”
Yahiro tilted her head. “Yes.”
“Is this the same sun you saw yesterday when you went to bed?”
She played at her lips, confused by Papa’s questioning. “Yes.”
“Will it be the same one you see tomorrow?”
Yahiro thought about it but knew that Papa was leading her toward something she wasn’t going to grasp. It was his way.
“Yes,” she answered confidently.
“Ah.”
She narrowed her eyes and continued to watch him as he silently sipped his morning tea. Not far away, the loud sounds of her mama picked up: the garbage disposal running and a stressed voice talking to herself. The fleeting peace Yahiro held without knowing was quickly coming to an end. She watched it like she watched the end credits to a movie but with a cacophony of dishes rather than music.
“There’s only one sun, otou-chan,” Yahiro stated, more to reassure herself.
“Then what do you call that?” He pointed before them and she followed his finger. She blinked but only saw grey clouds. But behind those clouds was a golden-red orb. It wasn’t the sun; it was much too large, much too red. She lifted her hand and rubbed her eyes with a shiver.
“Awake.”
The voice wasn’t Papa’s. It washis, and as he came into view, her father receded and vanished.
Yahiro moved away feeling sad. “Sorry, I must’ve dozed off. How long have I been out?”
“Out?”
