Life in Azoth Castle moved to a different rhythm than the capital's. For Aisha, every dawn felt like waking into a dream she had never believed possible.
No more chains.No more shouted orders.No more endless nights healing soldiers who treated her as nothing but a vessel of light.
Now she woke in a warm bed, in a simple room that belonged to her alone. And every morning, before the sun even painted the castle's towers, Aisha had a ritual: slip into the hall, wait by the door, and sit on the floor with her legs drawn up, waiting. Because in that room slept her "masters."
When the door opened and Asori appeared—disheveled, hair a mess, shirt half buttoned—Aisha sprang to her feet and bowed.
—Good morning, master!
Asori would always scratch his head, uncomfortable.—I've told you I'm not your master, Aisha…
But Blair, who appeared right after with her hair tied in a ponytail, usually smiled tenderly.—Let her, Asori. It's how she's getting used to things.
And then Blair would gently pat Aisha's head—a gesture Aisha didn't fully understand, but one that sent something warm coursing through her chest.
To Aisha's eyes, Blair was a mystery. A princess, an interim queen, someone carrying an entire kingdom's hope on her shoulders. And even so, she always found time to smile at her.
When she accompanied Aisha in protocol lessons, Blair wasn't stern but patient.—You don't need to memorize everything at once, Aisha. Just remember the most important thing is to look people in the eyes.
When Blair trained with Mikan in the gardens, her movements were as fierce as they were graceful. But afterward she would wipe away the sweat and run to Aisha to ask if she had eaten, if she was tired, if she wanted to walk the halls together.
Aisha had never felt anything like it: the closeness of someone who seemed like a mother and a sister at the same time. And every time she saw Blair laugh with Asori, she wondered if this was what growing up inside a family felt like.
If Blair was a mystery, Asori was an open book.
Aisha saw him train day and night—hurling himself from cliffs to try to fly, crashing into the ground, getting up amid grumbling and sarcasm.—I'm pretty sure Master Eryndor is trying to kill me! —he'd shout, dusting himself off.
Blair would laugh from the heights and lob sharp remarks at him.—Don't exaggerate, idiot! If you were going to die, you would've already.
Aisha watched in silence, always amazed at how Asori stood up again and again. There was something different about him: he didn't fight only to grow stronger, but because he wanted to protect everyone. Aisha knew it—she felt it.
That boy who had met a slave like her not with indifference but with a sincere gaze… he was unlike anyone she had known. And although Asori kept insisting he wasn't her master, in her heart Aisha treated him as such. Because if someone had to "rule" over her life, she preferred it to be him.
Mikan was strange. She spent hours in the gardens, on her knees, eyes closed, breathing slowly. She said she was "meditating to balance her Astral." Aisha understood none of it, but she did notice how, when Mikan finished, the ninja seemed lighter, almost smiling.
Once Aisha asked her:—Why do you smile after staying still for so long?Mikan looked at her with impish eyes.—Because it reminds me that not everything in me is darkness.
Mikrom, on the other hand, was the opposite. He spent the day courting the castle's maidens with clumsy lines and overblown gestures that made some laugh and others fume. But Aisha noticed his eyes always followed Mikan.
It was as if he played at being a womanizer when in truth he only wanted one woman to notice him.
Aisha found it amusing. She had never seen anything like it: someone hiding what he felt behind jokes.
Tifa treated Aisha with respect. She even seated her beside her in some meetings, as if her voice mattered. That made the girl feel important, even though her hands still shook whenever she spoke.
Even so, Aisha sensed something odd in Tifa's gaze. As if, deep down, Tifa didn't quite trust. And she was right—Tifa suspected Zeknier had let Aisha escape on purpose. Maybe as a distraction. Maybe as a trap.
But although the doubt was there, Tifa never treated her differently. She hugged her, spoke to her like a daughter, and even scolded her gently when she didn't eat enough.
In her innocence, Aisha preferred to believe those serious looks were simply worry.
Days passed, and with each sunrise Aisha grew more used to her new life.
She no longer slept in fear.She no longer healed wounds under coercion.She was no longer an object.
She still called Asori "master" and Blair "my master's wife," even though they kept correcting her. It was her way of giving them a place in her heart.
And though she didn't say it out loud, she knew it inside: for the first time in her life, she felt part of something larger. Part of a family.