Sasha turned. A young man leaned against the cellar stairs, arms crossed. He was handsome in a ruinous way—scarred knuckles, pale eyes, a scar that pulled his left eyebrow into a permanent sneer. He wore the patchwork cloak of a traveling gambler.

“My name,” she said quietly. “They can have my title. My memories. My future. I don’t care.”

Behind him, the horizon bled.

Sasha did not smile back. She opened the box.

“Locks are suggestions.” He nodded at the box. “That’s the original. The one the Church stole from the demon’s tomb. You planning to use it?”

“The door was locked,” Sasha said.

“You’re a fool, girl,” said a voice behind her.

-v1.0... — Saint Sasha And The Scarlet Demon-s Stone

Sasha turned. A young man leaned against the cellar stairs, arms crossed. He was handsome in a ruinous way—scarred knuckles, pale eyes, a scar that pulled his left eyebrow into a permanent sneer. He wore the patchwork cloak of a traveling gambler.

“My name,” she said quietly. “They can have my title. My memories. My future. I don’t care.”

Behind him, the horizon bled.

Sasha did not smile back. She opened the box.

“Locks are suggestions.” He nodded at the box. “That’s the original. The one the Church stole from the demon’s tomb. You planning to use it?”

“The door was locked,” Sasha said.

“You’re a fool, girl,” said a voice behind her.