Makaskas was fierce against the wind. His eyes were watery and he barely saw what lied ahead of him but a horse was no fool and it knew how to navigate on its own so long as the reins did not restrict its movement. The gallop of the horse mirrored his frantic heart but nothing could outrace the malignant thoughts of not making it in time.

Masu’s grove was a safe distance away from Akako and Shinsou’s manses. It was hours on foot, less on horseback but Makaskas reshaped its limits with how fast he went. In no time, he arrived at Akako and did not stop on its gates to dally. The villagers let out a chorus of mild shock, their gasps resonating through the air as they looked and pointed at the mounted rider heading toward the hollow shell of Emperor Dai’s castle.

It was not long after when the villagers truly panicked and a makeshift bell, of bronze or tin, started clanging dissonantly in the growing distance. Makaskas looked back and saw the approaching collection party. Their torches were eerie radiant orbs in the distance, bobbing up and down with the motion of their horses. The party of ten wolves drew ever closer with its wagon, bedded with straws, and the people of Akako were in panic.

Makaskas did not stop. Not even when he realized that Bao would be passing the village. His leader was smart and will find a way. Nami needed help more than them, more than anyone and he could not turn away from her not when he was already so close.

The emperor’s castle loomed on the tall hill below Makaskas as he arrived at the foot of the crumbling stone steps. There were prints of horse hooves on the steps that lead upward and it was the time Makaskas decided to stop his haste. He prodded his horse to halt and reined it to climb the steps carefully. Even with the layer of snow, the steps clacked as the horse’s hooves met it, some edges crumbling from the weight.

Makaskas keenly listened but he heard nothing save the faint howls of the wolves from below. Midway, he began to see an orange glow reflected on the surface of what tall pillars remained. Gazing up, the snow had changed colour having a tint of orange from a fire burning. Finally, he came to the entrance of the castle where he dismounted the horse and secured it to the splintering base of a collapsed pillar.

He took a deep breath and looked at the moon, praying to its god, Bulan. Then he was alarmed when he heard the screech of a raven, echoing in the sky. He recognized the ebony crow and hushed it quietly before waving his hands to scare it away.

“Quiet, you infernal bird!” Makaskas exclaimed in a whisper, sharp teeth clenched tightly.

Then he heard someone in the distance speak, “Mama, can I hunt the raven?” It was the voice of a child and Makaskas crouched on instinct, knee pressing against the snow and one hand on the ground to secure his balance.

“I want to hunt the raven, Mama. Sho already went hunting yesterday. It’s my turn,” said another distinct voice of a child.

“Kan, stay here,” said a third voice—a feminine and more mature one. The nine-tailed fox, Makaskas thought. “You and Sho could go hunting after you cross. For now, do not let your guard down, I sense a heavy aura lurking somewhere about in the castle. We cannot let it interfere. Help me find it.”

Makaskas crawled behind the door that was still upright. Its other half was missing and from that gap, he peeked. The vast hall was illuminated by stationary balls of flame, afloat in the air at corners. Makaskas scanned through the entire area until he found Nami tied to a wide pillar on the far right corner of the great hall where another door-less entrance lead to the throne room. The emperor’s throne gazed emptily across its ruins, torn and weighted by a slab of rock covered in snow. The moon’s light shone upon it from the roofless top of the castle.

Nami was limp and unmoving. Her strands of long hair was a mess, covering her face as her upper body protruded forward, nothing but the rope that bound her keeping her from falling.

Makaskas pulled out his oversized blade and walked inside the castle. His eyes went from Nami to the ominous fireballs on the dark corners, gently bobbing like watchful stares. He stepped gently and quietly to avoid alarming the fox spirits of his presence. The whole area was isolated save for Nami. The two children from Kumokage were nowhere to be seen.

“Nami…” Makaskas whispered and at the sound of his voice, the fireballs jittered and snapped.

Makaskas halted, blade readily drawn and he observed the flames until it had calmed down before he began walking again. His shadows danced around him from the momentary flickers of the peculiar fires coming in all directions of him. His shadows appeared like petals and he stood at its centre.

When he reached the middle of the hall, he called again, “Psst! Nami…”

Nami groaned and shuddered. “M-makaskas?” Nami replied without lifting her head up but Makaskas saw her breath escape in a silver mist.

The fireballs behaved frantically and though Makaskas kept still, it did not seem to calm down. Then the fires dimmed. It grew so small that it appeared like translucent eyes in the dark. Makaskas took a step—one step forward that had the fireballs light up like a thousand suns before returning to its primary size and charging forward. It sparked and it crackled, floating away from its original positions. It spiralled and surrounded Makaskas where he stood—tens of fireballs dancing around him in synchrony.

He drew his blade close to him, its tassel of holy beads rustling from the motion. None of the fireballs attacked and it just kept on circling him until Makaskas realized that heat had replaced the cold that permeated his skin. He was being burned alive.

He crouched on the floor, knees firmly tucked and with a strong push, he leaped to the air. The fireballs were disoriented and began floating around aimlessly like disturbed ants. One of the fireballs followed Makaskas to the air, surging toward him as it increased in size.

Makaskas slashed with his blade but the flame, instead of dissipating as Makaskas had previously expected, had split in half and grew its original size. Dumbfounded, Makaskas wasn’t able to plan his landing so he ended up skidding through the snow until he excavated a hill where he lied.

More fireballs homed toward Makaskas and without other means of defence, Makaskas slashed and diced, whipping his sword to the air so fast it whistled. By the time he was finished, there was a mob of angry fireballs before him.

Makaskas’s dagger was smouldering. It hissed and smoked as he buried it on a pile of snow nearby. Then he cracked his neck and faced the army of flames. His eyes landed on Nami who was between him and the sentient flames. Without word or warning, he seized toward Nami’s direction. The fireballs seemed to have predicted Makaskas’s intention had it surrounded Nami and defended her position.

Makaskas limited his attacks and resorted to eluding the fireballs but he was handicapped in both speed and agility. He was able to evade a few but one was able to hit him on the chest. The sensation was none like he ever expected. It hit him like stone—his body absorbed all the force and the fireball singed his tunic but did not ignite him.

He patted the burned edges of his tunic where it was dark and bare, exposing his undercoat smudged with ash.

Nami was gasping for air, finding it difficult to breathe surrounded by flames. She was drenched in sweat and forced herself against the pillar just to put some distance between her and the fireballs but it was barely of any help.

Makaskas charged again, hoping to catch enough flames until its numbers dwindled. The fireballs did not divide as it hit him and perhaps it was the only way to stop it. Makaskas caught one more against his stomach. The force hit him so strongly he almost regurgitated but he fought it off, tears running out of his eyes involuntarily. Then another one hit him on the arm and another with each one becoming stronger than the last as it went on until half of his body was bruised and burned. Patches of his fur were ignited but he merely put the fire off with his hands. He tore away what remained of the upper part of his tunic. Makaskas’s golden coat was grey and black from the ashes but he was not about to go down. He roared so loud that the walls vibrated and dusts of snow and rubble fell from the edges of the damage above them. The fireballs jittered and whirled like a panicked mob before it all rose to bombard Makaskas all at once.

Makaskas took a stance and was ready to take it all when a loud screech came bellowing from the entrance. It was louder than Makaskas’s roar and in a higher pitch which made it a pain to hear but it stopped the flames and disoriented it even more. The raven glided through the door and screeched again as it flew past Makaskas and perched on a hanging wood at the high ceiling. It bared its ebony wings proudly, beak pointed to the sky. Then it cawed once more—the loudest yet. The flames crackled and sparked like the ignited wick of fireworks. Makaskas could only watch in awe and mild fear of how the once orange balls of flame were now bright yellow and popped constantly, leaving trails of cinder that fell like rain. It ascended to the air in synchrony before doing its usual behaviour of spiralling before charging.

The crow was not fazed. It kept its wings extended as though to make itself larger and more visible. When the fireballs surged, the crow flapped its wings and it rose to the air. The crow dove backwards and glided a safe distance past Makaskas. The fireballs trailed behind the crow like a tail. Makaskas felt its combined heat press against his face as it passed. The crow circled the hall once more before it proceeded to fly directly through the throne room.

It flew fast and low and when it nearly came to collide with the throne, it redirected upward. The fireballs could not follow. It crashed against the abandoned throne all at once and it exploded into a thousand firebugs in the dark, disappearing not long after.

The crow went back to the great hall and perched on Makaskas’s shoulder, cawing before pecking at its wing.

“Good bird,” Makaskas remarked tiredly. It was only then had he realized that he was audibly gasping for air, each breath a wheezing noise but he did not let that stop him from hurrying toward Nami to cut her free. He slid the sharp edge of his blade against the coiled rope and it cut as fragilely as vines.

Nami took a deep breath in, relieved to breathe freely in the longest time. She almost fell to the ground had it not been for Makaskas who caught her. His arm was across Nami’s chest, supporting her weight effortlessly. Nami could smell the aroma of burnt cloth on Makaskas—it was strong and looking closer, the clouded leopard had second degree burns where his fur was blackest.

“Careful.” Makaskas wrapped one of Nami’s arms around his shoulder and assisted her to walk.

Nami limped a few steps, still busy trying to breathe properly. After a while in the cold, she looked at Makaskas with eyes half-open. “W-where’s Bao?” she asked.

There was something that hindered Makaskas’s relief—a brief moment where he felt slightly irked but did not know why.

“I came here as fast as I could,” Makaskas said in a low tone, “Maybe Bao couldn’t follow because of Shinsou’s men.”

“The children…” Nami stopped walking and tried to turn the other way but Makaskas didn’t let her.

“We’re in no condition to fight.”

“Who’s going to save them?”

“Not us.” Makaskas sighed and tried to coax Nami to walk the other way but knowing her, it was unlikely. Then he sighed again. “Not you.”

Before Nami could retaliate, Makaskas lifted her up and carried her out of the hall. He was weak but Nami barely weighed anything to him with his inhuman strength. Though Nami struggled, Makaskas kept on walking until they reached his horse.

He seated Nami on the top. “You’ll find Bao on the village. If saving those children means that much to you, find a way to bring him here without alerting Shinsou’s men.”

“What about you?” Nami asked.

“We both know you’re not leaving if I come with…” Makaskas looked away. “Now go! Hiya!” He slapped the horse on the buttock and Nami was galloping down the steps.

Makaskas turned toward the door. Gathering his depleting strength, he looked to the moon once more and prayed, “Bulan, light my way.” He unsheathed his blade and walked back to the entrance. The crow was perched above the wood, looking at Makaskas.

“Scout the area for me,” he commanded.

The crow cawed once and bared its wings, flying inside the castle.