Vash, has captured the boy and imprisoned him, the cold stone walls of the cell were unforgiving, pressing in on the boy like a tomb. His body ached from the battle, from the blows Vash had delivered, but the worst pain was the emptiness.

  His cloak was gone.

  For the first time since it had manifested, he was without it. He could feel its absence like a limb ripped from his body. A dull void where warmth had once clung to him. His back felt bare, exposed, vulnerable. He had never realized how much it had been a part of him, until now.

  He gritted his teeth, his fists tightening. He had lost fights before. He had been beaten, starved, abandoned. But this was different. This was something taken from him. And without it... he felt useless.

  Vash leaned against his desk, running a hand along the dark fabric of the cloak. It was heavier than it looked, a thing that pulsed with a quiet energy. He had taken many treasures from many people in his time, but this, this was different.

  "I wonder what secrets you hold," he murmured, fingers tracing the strange patterns that shimmered beneath the surface. "A relic of the divine and it chose a mere boy?"

  His lips curled in amusement.

  A merchant like himself could not let such a prize go to waste. There would be plenty of buyers. Kings, warlords, collectors of the arcane. Someone would pay handsomely for an artifact like this. And if no buyer could be found, well he could always find a way to extract its essence for himself.

  The cloak twitched.

  Vash narrowed his eyes. He could feel something now, something shifting beneath the fabric like a heartbeat. The energy within it was not passive. It was watching him.

  Then, it moved.

  Not a small, insignificant twitch, but a lurch. A violent, writhing motion as though the thing were alive. Vash barely had time to react before it lunged at his wrist, twisting and curling like a serpent.

  "What in the- " He staggered back, slamming the cloak against the desk, but it fought against his grip, tendrils lashing at his skin. He growled, summoning fire to his palm, but as the flames touched the fabric, it only glowed, absorbing the heat rather than burning.

  Clever thing.

  Vash exhaled through his nose and clenched his fist, calling forth a gust of wind that sent the cloak flying across the room. It landed in a heap, motionless once more, but he could feel its defiance. He would need stronger bindings before he tried to sell it.

  "Feisty," he muttered, rubbing his wrist where it had burned against his skin. "I suppose that's to be expected."

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  He smiled. "No matter. You will serve me soon enough."

  The boy sat on the floor of his cell, staring at the damp stones beneath him. His mind was a storm of regrets, but one thought kept rising above the rest.

  I was a fool, i should've been better.

  He had treated the cloak as just another tool. A convenience. Something that was simply there. But now that it was gone, he understood what it truly was.

  It had shielded him, comforted him, lent him strength when he had none. And more than that... it had protected him.

  It had resisted him when he tried to become something he was not. It had recoiled at the murder of the princess. It had known before he did that he was making a mistake.

  And still, it had stayed.

  But he had not listened.

  His nails dug into his palms. I don't deserve it.

  But he needed it.

  Something in his chest ached, a deep, gnawing emptiness. He did not simply miss the cloak. He longed for it. Like a missing piece of his soul had been torn away.

  The walls of the cell blurred as he squeezed his eyes shut. Come back.

  Somewhere in the fortress, the cloak shuddered.

  Vash had locked it away in a sealed case, its edges lined with enchanted chains. He wasn't foolish enough to leave something so valuable unguarded. But as he walked past the case, he hesitated.

  The air felt... different.

  The cloak was no longer lying limply within its confinement. It pulsed. It twisted. Its movements were no longer just random spasms of resistance.

  It was calling to something.

  Vash exhaled, rubbing his chin. The boy?

  He clicked his tongue. "Interesting."

  He placed a palm on the glass. The moment he did, the cloak moved, not in aggression, but in a way that felt almost... desperate. As if trying to break free.

  The bond between the boy and the cloak had always been strong, but this was something else. This was a awakening.

  Vash's smile faded slightly. I cannot sell something that refuses to be owned.

  The boy's eyes snapped open.

  He could feel it.

  It was faint, like a whisper on the wind, but it was there. A connection, a thread linking him to the cloak. He didn't understand how, but it was reaching for him. Straining against something.

  Fighting.

  His breath quickened. He clenched his fists. I won't let him keep you.

  He forced himself to his feet, legs trembling from exhaustion but his mind burning with renewed determination. He didn't know how he would escape, didn't know how he would get to it, but one thing was certain.

  He would not leave without it.

  And he would never take it for granted again.

  The chains around the cloak trembled.

  Vash watched with quiet amusement, though a flicker of something else, annoyance perhaps, crossed his face.

  "You're stubborn," he muttered. "Both of you."

  The case rattled, the magic-infused chains holding it down vibrating as if resisting something unseen. The cloak twisted and writhed, no longer just fighting its prison but actively trying to return to the boy.

  Vash's fingers drummed against his arm. He could tighten the bindings. Strengthen the enchantments.

  "Empower! empower! empower! come on!" he shouted angrily.

  But something told him that would not work for long.

  Then, with a violent lurch, the cloak broke free.

  It shot through the air like a vengeful wraith, smashing through walls, shattering furniture, breaking through everything in its path as it rushed toward the boy.

  The cell door exploded open.

  The boy didn't hesitate.

  The cloak wrapped around him, its warmth familiar, its presence soothing. It pulsed with power, stronger than ever before. He took a breath, feeling whole again.

  Vash barely had time to react before the boy ran.

  And then--

  To be continued.