Novel Everyone's a Catgirl!

A note from DoubleBlind: This chapter is being reuploaded due to a misunderstanding on KDP's guidelines on my part. I apologize for the inconvenience.








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Chapter 132: Rhododendrons and Heather

Leaving Shi Island was bittersweet. Tristan and Ara must’ve shared at least half a dozen farewells and promises before we finally departed, and I am proud to say I remained silent the entire time. I wasn’t about to get in their way and ruin the moment. Ara had her work cut out for her, to be sure. Between her, Lynn, and many of the other capable catgirls on the island, I was confident that Tristan would return to an island he’d be proud of.

Portia snaked across the crowded sloop, grumbling and muttering curses that closely resembled the ones I’d hear out of the mouths of sailors back in my old world. She’d gone above and beyond the call of duty, and I made sure I thanked her for all the work she did. I’d have to make it up to her later.

From the moment we left until the dock was finally out of sight, Ara and Lynn never moved. Tristan watched them the entire time, and I pretended not to notice. I couldn’t imagine the thoughts going through Tristan’s head, and I didn’t try to. Instead, I figured it was best to look at the future and not dwell on what could have been or what we could’ve done better. What was done was done, and we still had one more man to collect. For better or worse.

“Do we need to pick up anything for either of you?” I asked, passing glances between the twins.

Destiny put a finger to her lips. “I think I got everything I need in my [Cat Pack].”

“You’d better,” Ravyn said with a raised brow. “[Alchemist]s are an expensive Class.” She shifted the weight from one curvy leg to the other. “You’re not going to run out in the middle of a fight, are you?”

Destiny blinked. “Well, we certainly won’t be fighting all that much.”

Uh oh. She’s making some dangerous assumptions there.

“Even if that may or may not be the case,” Keke said with her beautiful back turned to us, “we want to make sure we’re prepared. Cannoli, Matt, Ravyn, and I are all experienced with [Alchemy].”

“Some of us more than others,” Ravyn commented.

Keke glared over her shoulder, then turned back to the rope she was fastening. “It’s good, Portia!”

“Thanks a ton! The wind is rough today!” Portia called.

“Wind’s in a bit of a mood, I believe,” Lara said.

Well, that was a weird comment to make.

“Oh! And Destiny is a great [Alchemist],” Lara continued excitedly. “She helps people all the time!”

To be honest, I had my doubts. Though I struggled to remember the exact details, I was pretty sure I remembered them being somewhat despondent when it came to their maidly duties. Then again, perhaps my mere presence was the main culprit for how they reacted. Celestia did have a strong collar on these girls, it seemed.

“Okay, so then you’re fine. But I do have to warn you, we’ve seen a good share of Encroachers and Defiled, so I just wanted to make sure you’re prepared. We can always go and collect materials,” I said.

“Oh, I, uh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Destiny said as she played with a lock of her hair.

Tristan parted the girls, seating himself between them. “Did I miss anything?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. We’re just making sure we’re all prepared. How are you holding up?”

Tristan took a few seconds to reply. “I’m doing okay. I trust Ara with my life, and I think she’ll do a great job. I’m sad I can’t be there to help her, but…from what you’ve told me, I can see the reason in assembling the men.” He reached for my hand. “I want to thank you for helping me see what was really going on, and at the same time, I want to offer any assistance that I can. We shouldn’t be struggling alone.”

I reciprocated without a second thought. “I’m with you, man.”

We shared a smile, and I caught Ravyn rolling her eyes within my peripheral vision. When our hands parted, I looked at Lara. “So how does [Conjurer] work?”

Lara tilted her head. “Meaning?”

Tristan laughed. “I’m quite curious myself. I’m still delving into the magical arts, so I’d like to get to know both of you a little more.” Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I was sure he shot a look in Destiny’s direction at the end. “Think you could help me out?”

Lara blinked. Her eyes wandered for some time like she was thinking about it. “[Conjurer] is good at three Elements. Water, Wind, and Earth.”

“Oh, so you summon nature?” asked Tristan.

“Uh, sorta? More like, I plead with it and ask for help, and then I hope it listens. Like a kitten, really.”

How awfully honest of you. I hope Mother Nature doesn’t frown upon your word choice.

I gawked and inched closer. I caught a gentle whisper from behind me and made room for Cannoli. She sat down beside me and listened in.

“So, what do you mean exactly? I haven’t touched any magic-related Classes, so I’m still learning.” I heard Ravyn snicker, and I shot her a glare.

“Erm, I’m having a hard time finding a way to explain this.” Lara scratched her ear and bowed her head. “Let’s see, it’s kind of like riding a bike. You can’t really explain it to someone, but when you do it, it just makes sense.”

Silence fell upon us. The calm wind blew through our hair, and a salty smell entered my nostrils. Lara’s explanation made no sense whatsoever. Considering it might just be a modern perspective of mine, I looked at Keke, Ravyn, then turned around to look at Cannoli beside me. Each of them wore bewildered stares.

“I am unsure what you mean by that,” Ceres admitted a few feet from behind me. She’d been standing next to Portia the entire time, and I assumed she heard in on the conversation. “Could you please elaborate?”

Lara thought again, taking her time to respond. “So, like, if I start talking to Wind, or Earth, or Water, I ask them for favors. If they like me, then they do stuff for me.”

I opened my mouth to speak but quickly shut it. Each time Lara spoke, I found myself more confused. “You…talk to the land?”

Destiny nodded. “Yeah. When they’re on good terms, the Elements respond, and then they’ll do her favors.” She shrugged. “I have no idea how it works. I understand potions and tonics much better. But it’s true!” She elbowed her sister playfully. “Show ’em, sis!”

“The Elements are kind of shy, though. I’m not sure any of them will listen to me right now,” Lara admitted.

“Oh, go on! Give it a try!”

Lara turned her head to the never-ending ocean. “Okay, I’ll try.” She put her left palm out toward the sea. “Water, can I ask for your help for a bit?” A pause followed. “I know, but I have some new people with me, as you can see… right, no, I know that, but I… uh huh. Okay? But I might have to fight.” Lara’s frown deepened. “I know, but Earth isn’t around right now. I’m out in the middle of the ocean, so I’m asking you.” Lara sighed. “I understand. Will you come when I need you in a fight? Yeah, but… okay. But if they need healing, and I mean some strong healing, I can depend on you, right?” Lara’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll ask Wind, then.”

I’m not sure how familiar Tristan was with Lara, but based on what I’d seen, I was beginning to have second thoughts about taking her with us. Was this a typical trait for all [Conjurer]s?

“So, can [Conjurer]s normally talk with the Elements like you do?” I asked. I had to know. It was the burning question that would keep me up at night if I didn’t get answers.

“Some of them,” said Lara.

That’s not a good look for you, Lara.

Tristan put a hand on her shoulder. “So, what are you going to do now? Sounds like the water was having issues?”

Lara shrugged, then whipped her long, blonde hair behind her. “Water’s in a weird mood right now. I know I shouldn’t say that out loud, but Water tends to get upset with me. Something about attunement and not being proper for the situation.”

“The elements don’t talk.” Ravyn crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

I raised my hand. “So, then, you can’t talk to the elements, Ravyn?” The look she gave me could kill most men. “I’m sorry. Please continue, Lara.”

Lara made several noises resembling a hissing cat, shooting a glare at Ravyn all the while. “Yes. They can.” She puffed out her cheeks, then snapped her head back around. “I’ll ask Wind, then.”

Is this going to be the process every time there’s a fight? This does not bode well.

“Before you do, you said the elements are shy.” I met Lara’s eyes. “Does that mean the elements have personalities?”

“Yes! Absolutely! Hang on, let me converse with Wind.”

Here we go.

Lara raised both hands into the air. I was half-expecting lightning bolts to strike the tips of her fingers. “Wind, can you hear me?” After a pause, Lara flinched. “How are you doing? Ahh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is she okay?” Lara’s expression continued to change, and I wished I could hear what was going on between her and, uh…Wind. “That’s horrible! Well, don’t listen to her. She’s wrong about you. In every way I can imagine. Uh-huh. Yep! So, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but can you do me a quick favor?”

“Tristan, were you aware of this?” I asked.

He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. “Y-yeah!”

I see.

“Thank you!” Lara clapped her hands together, then began to whip her right arm through the air. The wind wrapped around her wrist in ribbons of green light. As she continued, more and more of the strange winds began to tighten and converse around her, enveloping the entirety of her arm. There was a sudden popping noise, and then the currents converged into a single ball of wispy air with a gentle light in the middle. The sphere did nothing on its own, just rotated around her head. “I now have Wind with me! Now Wind will perform an action I ask of it. Wind is kind, under-standing, and exceptionally creative, so her and I often see eye-to-eye.”

So, there was some reasoning behind what she was doing.

“What can you do now?” I asked.

Lara rose to her feet, then looked off into the distance where we couldn’t see a thing. She turned her head to Portia. “Your name is Portia, right?”

Portia nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can you stop the boat for a moment?”

“Sloop,” she corrected. “And yeah, hold on.”

The sloop slowed, and the waves became gentler with the reduction in speed. After a couple of minutes, the sloop came to a halt, and Lara offered her one of Shi Island’s curtsies.

“Thank you so much, Portia,” said Lara. She directed her attention back to the ocean and held out her hand. “Observe the power of nature!”

I’m watching.

“I command you, spirit of nature! [Whirlwind]!” A whistle soared past my ears. It was loud enough that it almost hurt. Above us, a dark cloud formed, and lightning and thunder roared within. The orb of wind that Lara had summoned disappeared, and shortly after, a gust of wind blew past us, forming a miniature tornado some distance away from us from below the cloud. Before I could even register what happened, the cloud disappeared, and with it, the wind. Lara fell to one knee, panting. “That’s— Hold on for just a second.” She heaved, then rested back into a cross-legged position. “She wasn’t in the best of moods right now, so it was a little weak. But that’s a small example of what [Conjurer] can do!”

I had no idea what to say. On the one hand, it appeared to have a ton of potential. However, if it was so fickle, then I had my concerns.

Is nothing ever easy?

 

Chapter 246: I Want to Believe

The stay in Irisil was two days longer than Keke wanted. Cailu had searched high and low for a caravan that could leave immediately, but the carriages they needed had made an unexpected journey to Ronona. That left them at the mercy of the carriage’s return.

It was hard to wander through the obsidian alleys and corridors. Passing the robed catgirls was a constant reminder of Cannoli’s departure. Meals seemed less vibrant without her around. Their typical Party of five had shrunk to three, and the knot in Keke’s stomach urged her that she was next.

Cailu confirmed as much on their next dinner together.

“Keke, you will proceed to [Hunter] as your Second Class; is that correct?”

Keke could feel Matt and Ceres’s gazes both fall on her. She did her best not to squirm in her chair. “Yes.”

“Wonderful. Your prowess with a bow will lend well to [Hunter],” Cailu replied.

“Wow. A compliment,” Matt murmured Keke’s thoughts aloud, his tone flat.

Cailu ignored him. “Our final destination before Ronona is Khasstead. Many of Nyarlea’s finest [Sniper]s and [Whisper]s hail from their ranks. There, we will find you an adequate teacher.”

Matt raised a hand. “[Sniper] is pretty self-explanatory, but what’s a [Whisper]?”

Kirti answered before anyone else could. “More Encroacher than catgirl.” She curled her fingers as if scratching the air. “They’ll dine on your fingers and toes if you let them.”

Cailu sighed.

“Some of Nyarlea’s finest warriors are [Whisper]s, Kirti,” Zahra countered.

“Er, sorry. Gonna need a little bit more than that.” Matt scratched the back of his head.

Keke wrinkled her nose at Kirti’s unkind comment. “[Whisper]s adapt Skills and Spells from Encroachers and Defiled.”

“I have heard they can take on aspects of both! And commune with Encroachers!” Ceres said, clasping her hands to her chest. “In all of my years on Shi Island, I never met one in the flesh.”

“As to be expected. Third Classes are a rarity on the outlying islands. However, should you wish,” Cailu turned back to Keke, neatly ushering the conversation back to its point, “[Whisper] is a viable option once you master [Hunter].”

Keke nodded. She’d met a [Whisper] once when she was still a kitten. The [Whisper] had traveled to Ni Island to help kill a Defiled that wreaked more havoc in Junonia than Elona and Aurora could handle. It had been so long ago that Keke couldn’t recall her name. What she did remember was the woman speaking with roaches to help her hunt and then walking on water to reach her prey.

“I want to be a [Sniper]. Like my mom,” Keke announced, a little embarrassed to admit it at the table. “I…I still have some of her equipment back home. I didn’t want to use it until I was ready.”

“Well, doesn’t that just warm the heart?” Kirti laid a hand over her chest where her heart would be.

If she had one. “My mother was famous,” Keke snapped, feeling a little indignant. “Queen Melasia called on her Party for help all of the time.”

“Ah, mine was, too. But everyone tends to know your name if you’re a [Necromancer],” Kirti said as nonchalantly as if they were discussing the weather.

Matt snorted. “That would explain a lot.”

Kirti’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth.

Cailu’s hand shot into the air before any more words could escape the [Witch Doctor]. “Enough.”

An awkward silence fell over the table. For the first time in years, Keke wondered what her father had been like. Elona had stopped talking about him when Keke stopped asking questions as a kitten—he became more akin to a fable than a real person. She’d never met him, and she and Elona were fine by themselves. And yet…was he like Cailu? Eloquently spoken and driven by a dozen different motives? Or maybe like Matt. Kind-hearted and funny, if sometimes a bit headstrong.

What kind of man had her mother cared for?

Ceres shifted in place, brushing her skirts over her lap, then spoke. “What is Khasstead like?”

Cailu pushed his plate aside and rested his hands on the table. “Truth be told, I would compare it most to Ni Island’s villages. It is surrounded by forests, and the inhabitants use the landscape to their advantage. The city does not require walls for protection like Irisil.”

“Maybe it’ll feel a little bit like home,” Keke said with a shrug. She was doing her best to take any small comforts she could; the distant look on Matt’s face was heartbreaking.

“Yeah, that’s a plus,” Matt added, though his tone sounded detached.

“How far out are we from Khasstead?” Zahra asked.

“Another three days once we leave Irisil. Then four days more to Ronona,” Cailu replied.

Keke absently picked at a stack of meozuna greens with her fork. Her appetite had evaporated. A slow idea formed at the back of her mind, and her ears flicked forward as if responding to an itch. “Do I really have to leave the Party when we get there?”

Cailu furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, could we not just go straight to Ronona and then to Khasstead on your way back to the docks?” Keke felt foolish asking. The idea had sounded much better before it reached her tongue.

“Why would you wish to do that?” Cailu asked.

Kirti sputtered a laugh into her drink. Zahra favored her with a frustrated glower.

“She could meet the queen that way,” Matt suggested. A tiny gleam of hope had returned to his dark eyes. “Seems unfair that just me and Ceres get to meet her.”

Cailu crossed his arms over his chest. “There will be ample time to meet Queen Nehalennia once you advance to your Second Classes. To keep you in our caravan would only delay your training, Keke.”

“The sooner you begin, the sooner we will reunite,” Ceres said slowly. “I understand this is difficult. For all of us. But it is only temporary.”

Temporary. There was that word again. When they were still on Ichi and discussing just how they’d go about finding teachers for their Second Class, ‘temporary’ sounded short and sweet. She clung to the idea of their reunion existing not so far away. But as Keke watched Ravyn leave their number, then Cannoli, it was beginning to feel final. Like their parting was forever.

“Right. Of course. That was silly of me,” Keke murmured.

Matt shook his head as his shoulders slumped just a hair. “I don’t think it was.”

Keke lifted her napkin from her lap and dabbed her mouth. “Well then, I guess it’s decided. Excuse me.” She pushed herself away from the table as she set her napkin on the plate.

Matt moved to follow when Ceres placed a hand on his shoulder and stood. “A moment, Keke?”

Keke blinked, looking between them. Matt shrugged. “Oh. Sure.”

The conversation resumed after Keke and Ceres walked away from the table. Cailu was asking Matt something about his Second Class choice. Keke couldn’t help but tune Cailu out—his voice was beginning to grate on her nerves. The more she considered it, the more she hoped her father wasn’t like him at all.

They padded up the stairs to their room, and Ceres closed the door before speaking.

“I understand this is quite difficult on you, Cannoli, and Sir Matt,” she began.

Keke took a seat on the edge of her bed and crossed her legs. She wanted to say that Ceres had it easiest of them all. She would be with Matt until he returned to Catania. But Elona had always reminded her that wearing jealousy with grace was an impossible task.

Keke remained silent and waited.

Ceres continued, “I did not realize Cannoli would leave our Party so quickly, and I hope to grant you enough time.”

“Enough time for what?”

Ceres reached into her [Cat Pack] and procured a glass vial filled with a clear liquid. It didn’t look like any potion Keke had ever seen. “I am certain my time with Lucia did not pass unnoticed.”

“Not really. But what does that have to do with this?”

A light pink hue touched Ceres’s cheeks. “Well, you see, Lucia gave me this.” She stepped forward and handed Keke the vial.

Keke uncorked the bottle and sniffed it. Light floral scents filled her nostrils and warmed her face. “Perfume?”

“Ah, no,” Ceres chuckled nervously. “Pour a drop on your fingers.”

Very carefully, Keke tipped the vial to its side and watched the liquid slowly trickle down the glass. Much slower than she’d expected. A small circle of it appeared on her hand, and she rubbed it between her pinched fingertips. It was silken and viscous, gliding against her skin with ease.

Then, her fingers began to warm as if she’d slipped them into a freshly prepared bathtub.

“What is this for?” Keke murmured, but provocative images were already starting to form as she slid her fingers back and forth.

“Anything you can imagine. It is,” Ceres cleared her throat, “safe for any use.”

Keke felt her breath quicken. It was a little strange to feel embarrassed around Ceres after their time in Abalone. But the pictures conjured by the scent and warming sensation of the liquid were vivid and personal. “I…I can use this with Matt?”

A knowing smile twitched at the corner of Ceres’s lips. “Precisely.”

Keke touched her throat, and the warming sensation followed. Goddess above… “Could you send him up?”

Ceres’s smile widened. “Of course, Keke.”

Ceres vanished behind the door, and Keke’s fingers trembled around the vial. Even if she wasn’t ready for a kitten of her own, Ceres had gifted her something that felt as if it went against Saoirse herself.

A way to unite with the man who had her heart.

 

A note from DoubleBlind:



Tomorrow's the final day to join the Saphira Tier during January and score yourself a Keke acrylic pin drawn by the incredible Maon! Click here for the Pin FAQ!

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Chapter 247: Amor Fati (NSFW)

Keke sat on the edge of the bed, watching the hypnotic dance of the tiny, flickering flame inside the oil lamp. Her heart hammered against her chest, and her stomach tightened with anticipation. She struggled with her nerves, chiding herself for their sudden flare-up.

This isn’t the first time we’ve been intimate, she reminded herself for the dozenth time since Ceres had left.

But as Keke rolled the glass vial between her fingers, it certainly felt like the first time.

She wondered what all Lucia dabbled in if she so readily had a concoction like this one and whether the woman’s interests would be considered blasphemous to Saoirse’s followers. Sex with a man was meant to bring new kittens into the world—to maintain the population and ensure Nyarela’s continued existence. No one ever talked about how fun it could be and how good it would feel.

The door opened, and Keke started at the sound. Calm yourself. She hissed in a breath and closed her eyes.

“Keke? You okay?” Matt asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was caught up in my own thoughts.”

He nodded and moved to sit next to her. “I know what you mean.”

Keke inhaled and her ears perked. Matt’s familiar scent filled the room, setting her at ease and slowing her heart. She leaned her head against his shoulder and rested a hand on his thigh. “I… I realize we won’t be separated for too long. But it’s beginning to seem like forever.”

“Tell me about it.” Matt sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I feel like I’m watching my family split one person at a time.”

She nodded into his chest. “Me, too.” She breathed him in, and her heart skipped. “I asked for you because, well, Ceres gave me something.”

“Something bad?” Matt’s eyebrows raised, and his stare flickered with concern.

“No. The opposite, I think.” Keke let the vial roll from her palm to her other hand, and then she popped off the cork. “It just takes a little bit…” After urging a drop onto her fingers, she slid her hand beneath Matt’s shirt and massaged the concoction over the length of his spine.

A gasp of surprise caught in his throat. “Ceres gave you lube?”

Keke blinked down at the bottle. “Is that what this is called?” Her fingers tingled and warmed, the pleasant sensation echoing on Matt’s skin.

“I mean, I guess ‘lubricant,’ technically.” His chin lolled to his chest, and he moaned as Keke worked the liquid into his muscles. “I didn’t think it existed here.”

There was some relief in not having to explain her intentions with the…lube. Though, admittedly, she felt embarrassed for never having heard of it before. Matt had recognized it so quickly…

Matt’s cheeks flushed as he looked at Keke, then the door. “Ceres isn’t coming back tonight?”

“No.”

He nodded and held out a hand, “Can I try?”

She passed him the vial, and her breathing sped.

Matt accepted the bottle, then tugged at her sleeve. “Take off your shirt.”

Keke did as she was told, curious to find out what he had in mind.

“And your bra.”

Another jolt of excitement shot from the tips of her ears to her tail as she carefully unhooked the back of her bra, then tossed it away to join her shirt.

Matt tipped a few droplets of lube into one hand, then the other, before setting the bottle on the nightstand. He rested both hands on Keke’s shoulders and pressed his thumbs just beneath her collarbone on either side. His fingers traced the length of her neck and her upper back, massaging against the tension she hadn’t realized was there.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“Really good,” Keke murmured, finding it difficult to keep track of where his hands were moving.

“I’ve never done the erotic massage thing before—”

“I’ve never heard that term until today,” Keke interjected between sighs.

Matt chuckled. “Just tell me if it stops feeling good.”

She grinned, hoping he couldn’t feel how hard her heart was pounding. “Okay.”

His hands traveled south until he cupped her breasts in his palms. Divots around his fingertips formed as he kneaded into her skin, and the warm, tingling sensation she felt on her shoulders moved with him, coating her chest and nipples with the lubricant.

A tiny hiss of pleasure escaped between Keke’s teeth, and her back arched, granting him easier access to her chest and stomach. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before—sweat was sticky and didn’t offer the same kind of slick surface that Lucia’s concoction created. The warmth of Matt’s hands compounded with the liquid’s heat, and she shuddered beneath his touch. Yearning rushed between her legs as she gripped two handfuls of the blanket and curled her tail around Matt’s waist.

She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and moaned. Her hair tickled the small of her back, and her hands tightened around the blanket. Matt lowered one of his arms, and Keke watched beneath heavy lids as his hand disappeared beneath her skirt. She felt him pull her underwear to the side, then the familiar pressure of his fingers against her heat.

“Damn. I must be doing something right,” Matt murmured as he teased her opening with his fingertips.

Her hips rocked forward on their own, begging him to enter. She whimpered, then shuddered when he pinched her nipple. “I-I feel like I’m melting,” she stammered. “Goddess above, it’s hard to breathe.”

“Should I stop?” he teased. He slid his fingers past the first joint, and Keke squealed.

“No!”

“I didn’t think so.” He stretched her wide as his hand explored deeper. Whether it was the lube or her own desperate desire that made her so readily yield, she couldn’t say. But he plied and penetrated her without meeting any resistance whatsoever. “Good girl.”

Keke’s heart skipped, and another breathy moan vibrated on her tongue. Hearing his praise was more addicting than any vice she’d ever encountered. More rewarding than [Fishing]. She so badly wanted to please him just to keep hearing him say those words.

Between his hand on her chest and his fingers kneading into the depths of her body, Keke wasn’t sure how long she could hold back. Not yet… She reached between her legs and grabbed his wrist. “Matt?”

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He froze and searched her face.

Keke couldn’t help but smile. He was always looking out for her best interests. “No, not at all. I, um, was wondering if we could do something else?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” He carefully withdrew his fingers, much to Keke’s immediate, throbbing regret.

Ignoring the pulses between her legs, she stood and pulled down her skirt and panties. “You strip, too.”

Matt added his clothes to the growing pile, and Keke dragged him back down to the bed, positioning him on his back. She mounted him at the hips and leaned in to steal his kiss, thrusting her tongue through his lips. He groaned and gripped her thighs.

Breathless, Keke leaned back and took the vial from the nightstand, pouring another circle of lube into her palm. Matt held out his hand for more, and she did the same for him before replacing the bottle. He rubbed his palms together, then groped her backside, letting his hands slide up and around to her chest. She leaned into his touch, rocking in the same direction he moved, goosebumps prickling her skin.

She reached down and coated his shaft with the lube, carefully pumping him from base to tip. His brown eyes burned into her as she worked, and his hands moved more fervently. As she repositioned herself over him and lifted her tail, her nerves returned. Would it hurt?

“Keke, wait.” Matt paused and touched her shoulder. “I thought we agreed no kittens?”

“We did.” She sat back and spread the cheeks of her flank with one hand while slowly positioning Matt with the other. “That hasn’t changed.”

His eyes widened. “You’re sure about this?”

“More than anything.” Keke took a deep breath, lowered herself down by an inch, and then realized the fit was even tighter than she thought it’d be. “A-ah…”

“Go slow,” Matt said. “As slow as you need.”

“Okay.” With another breath, she willed her body to relax around him. She’d never fit anything bigger than Matt’s fingers inside of her. Even with the lube, he felt enormous.

“Maybe this’ll help.” Matt parted her folds and teased her clit with his thumb as he slid two fingers back into her heat.

Keke gasped, and blood pounded against her ears. The tension between her legs eased, and she sank down further around him. “I feel like I’ll burst.”

“In a good way?”

“Mmhmm.” She chewed her lower lip and raked her nails down Matt’s abdomen. They were both slicked up and slippery to the touch. “You feel so good, Matt.”

“That’s my line,” Matt murmured. He held the top of her thigh with his free hand and raised his hips.

Keke hadn’t realized how deep he was until her flank met his thighs. Her eyes rolled back, and a high-pitched moan tore from her throat. She could feel his fingers warring for space with his cock. Both of her entrances were soaking wet, pulsing around Matt in a demand for more.

“God, Keke. I’ve wanted you for so long,” Matt said somewhere very far away. “You’re incredible.” He slowly rocked against her, drew away, and then returned.

The lamp’s flame illuminated Keke’s hazy vision, painting yellows and oranges on Matt’s face and chest. A starving need in his eyes sent a new wave of goosebumps down her spine. She’d dreamed of sharing this with him for months. Being a part of him. She couldn’t speak. Each time he thrust into her, it elicited a staccato moan that stole her breath away.

Sweat mingled with lube as they set a new rhythm together. Matt added another finger to her already stretching body, and Keke cried out in blissful surprise. He kept her dancing on the edge of her climax, and she felt dizzy with pleasure. As they moved together, she remapped every scar, every muscle, every valley of his body. Memorized the sighs and groans that she pulled from him. Until, at last, her building tension poured over.

“Matt, I’m coming!” she squealed as her toes curled.

He held tight to her thigh and thrust upward. Pleasure raced through her veins and exploded in her vision. Keke didn’t recognize the sounds that escaped her, nor could she control their volume. They echoed against the small room’s walls and grew louder when she felt Matt orgasm inside of her. His moans soon joined hers in a desire-drenched harmony.

It was carnal and base and perfect. He was hers.

Matt slowed while Keke drank in the last pulses of her climax. Her fingers and lips felt wonderfully numb, and the tips of her ears felt strangely cold. She giggled.

“What?” A drunken smile spread across Matt’s lips.

“I don’t know. I just… Everything feels so good.” She wriggled her hips and lifted herself free. “I’m really happy. That we could finally do that, I mean.”

His smile widened. “Yeah, me too.”

Keke rolled to Matt’s side and snuggled into his embrace. He cupped her cheek in one hand and kissed her. Keke swept her tail around his back and snaked her legs between his.

It won’t be long, Matt. I’ll be back at your side before we both know it. I’ll be yours before you know it.

Even if Keke didn’t completely believe her own silent promise, for now, as they lay in the lamplight and shared in each other’s warmth, it was enough.

 

Side Quest: Wieszać Na Kimś Psy

Janusz patrolled the borders of Sorentina with his bardiche resting on one shoulder. It’d been quiet enough for the last fortnight, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to stay in [Civilian Mode]. Not with the rumors of a dragon taking up residence near Anyona.

“Master Janusz, it has been some time since we have traveled to Venicia. Should we not reconvene there?” His brunette cohort adjusted her glasses.

“Pardon me for saying so, but I believe Anyona should be our next destination.”

Would wars ever happen with manners like these? Janusz wondered for the thousandth time. At first, the polite demeanors and obsession with titles had crawled under his skin. If it wasn’t ‘Master’ it was ‘Lord.’ ‘Sir’ was rarely used despite being the one he was most comfortable with. He quickly learned that there was no stopping it and did his best to ignore them.

“I think the sooner we take care of the dragon, the better.” Janusz readjusted the weapon on his arm. “We should have the Levels for it, yes?”

“I do believe so, yes.” Celestia’s axe vanished from her hand. She laced her fingers together and bowed, her long twin tails dangling free from her shoulders. “However, I am concerned for the budding school and its recent intake of kittens.”

“We made an appearance at the Vencian School of Etiquette a mere two weeks ago, Celestia. What of the kittens in Anyona?” Hanna insisted.

Celestia straightened and adjusted her bracers. “I find it fascinating, Hanna, to hear you breach the topic of kittens. As your own runs wild in the streets.”

Janusz shook his head. No. I’ve been wrong. This is how wars are begun. “Celestia,” he murmured her name in warning.

Hanna’s eyes flickered with anger. “Ceres is allowed peaceful days as a kitten thanks to us. It is no sin to play pretend.”

“Hmph. Time in Venicia would see to that—”

“Ladies. Zamknij się!” Janusz barked. “That’s enough,” he added. As much as it seemed his language had been altered to suit Nyarlea, phrases from home still slipped out from time to time. “This began with the dragon. Let us speak of that, then.” He marched forward, continuing his patrol route.

“Yes, master.” They bowed in unison and followed close behind, falling into perfect step like soldiers.

“The Encroachers aren’t a challenge anymore, and we’ve done well enough with the Defiled.” He sketched a map of Shi Island in his mind while he spoke. “We haven’t seen to Leche or Catania in nearly a month, either. We can speak with both on our way to Anyona.”

“Their missives speak of thriving in comfort, Master Janusz,” Celestia said. “I do not believe they need our assistance at this time.”

Hanna shot Celestia an incredulous glare. “It is more than the Defiled that must be tended to. Did you, perchance, forget?”

Celestia’s ears flattened against her head. “I would never speak above my station—”

“Goddess above. If the school means so much to you, why not run it? I am certain we can find ourselves another suitable [Shaman],” Hanna snapped. Her tail swayed so quickly between her heels that it was nearly a blur.

“I’m also certain we can find another [Celestrope] if you keep hanging dogs on her, Hanna,” Janusz said. What was with them today? They’d bickered before in the past—as did all women—but today they seemed to have their weapons ready at each other’s throats.

“If I…?” Hanna covered her mouth with one hand, hiding the dimples in her cheeks as she grinned. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Of course, master.”

They patrolled in silence for a time. Overhead, the sun was covered by a thick, gray overcast that hid away the sky. A slow drizzle of rain pattered against their armor, and the ground beneath their steps was muddy with it. Cold droplets vanished inside of Janusz’ dark mustache and beard, and he blinked them away from his lashes.

Celestia broke their silence. “May I ask a question?”

Janusz grunted his assent.

“Do you think that we may spread ourselves too thin?” she asked.

Spread ourselves? He chewed on the phrase for a moment, then gave up. “What does that mean? ‘Spread ourselves thin’?”

“I believe what she is asking is if we try to do too much at once. But I would not want to assume.” A hint of ice tinted Hanna’s words.

“Correct. I often wonder if we should use units of Sorentina’s [Magic Knight]s to station them around the island. To protect these smaller cities and villages in our stead,” Celestia continued.

“Some do have guards. But that doesn’t mean we abandon our work,” Janusz replied.

“I understand. It is simply that I have never known a man to maintain such arduous…patrols of the island. Especially during times of peace,” Celestia explained.

Janusz knew that there wasn’t an easy way to explain his fixation on keeping Shi Island safe. He’d tried it once or twice, but the catgirls had never seemed to experience something like a world war. Back home, the outskirts of Olsztyn were made up of concrete factories and abandoned buildings. Janusz had seen photos of his father amongst the rubble from the invasions and the fear in people’s eyes when a bomb was mentioned.

He would never let Shi Island reach that point. Not from the roaches, not from the Defiled, and not from the other islands.

“The patrols bring me peace, then,” Janusz grumbled. She didn’t have to understand. She couldn’t. This was part of a man’s job. “Is Hanna right? Do you want to work in Venicia instead?”

Celestia’s face turned a bright red. “Master Janusz, there is no greater honor than serving in a man’s Party—”

Janusz held up a hand. “Celestia, forget what your good book says. If you want to go, then go.”

“Our ‘good book’?” Hanna asked.

“Bible. Scrolls. Tablets. Whatever Saoirse has for all of you,” Janusz said.

“Ah. The decrees.” Hanna curled her blonde braid over her shoulder. She did that when she was thinking. “To push their words aside is difficult, as I am sure you can understand.”

“She’s not here right now to say otherwise,” Janusz said. An urging in the back of his mind insisted that his words were blasphemous—he never would have said such a thing about God. But he wasn’t on Earth anymore.

Celestia opened her mouth, then closed it again, rubbing her hands along her damp apron.

“Think on it for the night, then. It’s time we find ourselves something to eat anyway.” Janusz shrugged and turned to head back into Sorentina.

Hanna skipped alongside him, the ruffles on her black dress dancing around her knees in spite of the rain. “I shall cook if you like! My [Cooking] went up recently, and I am certain I am much improved!”

Hanna was good at a lot of things. Fighting, healing, history, and carpentry, to name a few. But every time that woman picked up a knife, she created a culinary disaster. Even so, Janusz’s urging that she let Celestia cook had only spurred her on to keep trying.

“Let me buy dinner tonight. Seems we all could use a break,” he said, eyeing a conflicted Celestia.

“Yes. I believe that we could,” Celestia murmured.

Another long silence blanketed the Party as they made their way back to Sorentina. Hanna idly picked through her Class cards, and Celestia’s gaze remained miles away. Janusz shrugged away the rain and stepped through the gates of Sorentina.

A yellow blur raced across the street, followed closely by a kitten wearing a fine dress and mud all over her face.

“Ceres! You— You bitch!” Winter, the muddy kitten, screamed as she ran past.

Celestia snapped out of her daydream and favored Hanna with a knowing stare.

“Gówniarz,” Janusz growled.

“Oh, Ceres,” Hanna murmured. She stepped forward, but Janusz barricaded her with one arm.

“I’ll talk to her,” he said.

“M-Master, you do not have to—”

“No. It is time Ceres goes where she belongs.” He looked at Celestia. “Both of you.”

Celestia lowered her eyes to the ground and bowed low. Without another word, she hurried home.

Janusz nodded, then cracked his knuckles. “I’ll see you at home, Hanna.”

If he couldn’t get a single kitten to behave, what chance did he stand against a dragon?

 

A note from DoubleBlind:

A huge thank you for an awesome reader's quick alert and flood of reports on a plagiarized EaC! Amazon book. It was taken down in under 12 hours. You guys are the best.

---​

Chapter 248: The Red and the Black

Lara had never slept in a more comfortable bed in all her life. The cushions were like puffy little clouds, the sheets softer than any cotton—they were made of silk, she was sure she heard Misha say—and the gentle whiff of cinnamon wafted through the air.

How was anyone supposed to leave their bed?

Tristan was already up and about, Destiny helping him dress. The fabric and fit resembled the attire Ravyn usually wore in her [Civilian Mode]. Long black cloth covered him from a high-collared neck down to his ankles. Red complemented the hems and accessories, intricately decorated with waves of black. Tristan held one panel of the black top against his left side while Destiny wrapped the second one to his right, then she carefully worked the sash behind him, tying and tucking the thick fabric into itself.

“Wow,” Lara mumbled, blinking. “Where are you going?”

“To speak with Emberlynn,” Tristan said, tucking his fingers under the collar. “It’s kind of tight.”

“I think that’s by design,” Destiny said, frowning.

“Why not get Misha or Dana to help?” Lara asked.

Destiny shook her head. “They gave me explicit instructions, and I want to show them that Shi Island maids are not to be underestimated.”

Service, Grace, Urgency. Lara wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to remove those three simple words from her brain. “But isn’t it better if he looks his best?”

Destiny paused and shut her eyes. “Yes.”

“Girl’s too scared of failure,” Fire said. “She needs to set aside her pride.”

“You know from experience?” came Wind’s chiding voice.

Lara threw her head under the pillow. It was much too early to be speaking with the Elements, let alone Fire and Wind. For as long as she could remember, the two could never agree on anything. It didn’t help that Wind seemed to enjoy provoking Fire.

“What are you implying?” Fire growled.

“I’m just saying, the bigger someone talks, the more frail their ego seems to be.” Wind giggled. “I’m sure it’s just an observation. Pay me no mind.”

“Done.”

At last, the Elements were silent. On most days, Lara could deal with their incessant bickering. Sometimes, she even had fun with it. But her time on San Island had proven to be much more stressful than she’d anticipated.

Wind could never keep her attention on any one thing for very long. With the popularity of garnets in Emberlynn’s estate and their ability to exhibit heat and light, Fire was present for much longer periods of time than normal, and that meant more arguments between the two.

Earth loved the palace that was Emberlynn’s home and could hardly go two minutes without making some sort of commentary on the luxurious designs. All of which he attributed to himself, of course.

Lara retracted her head from underneath the pillow, wiggled to face Destiny and Tristan, then lay on her stomach, chin perched on a new pillow.

“What stupidity,” Lara heard Wind say.

Yes, it was much too early for this.

Destiny drew back when she was done with the sash, cupping her chin and tapping at her cheek with a finger. She tapped her foot in rhythm with her finger—a subconscious habit of hers when she was thinking.

Tristan stepped forward, then turned around slowly, his arms held wide at the sides. “How do I look?”

“I think it’s okay,” Destiny whispered just loudly enough for Lara to hear.

“What was that, Destiny?”

Destiny shook her head. “The fabric is coiling a bit over here,” she said, stepping forward to straighten the section where it overlapped, “where it folds.”

Lara smiled. Destiny waited on Tristan like a child at times. Such raw displays of affection would’ve been frowned upon at the school, but here, Destiny could be herself. It was a rare sight, and one Lara knew her sister needed dearly.

“The girl is going to get herself in trouble,” Fire groaned.

Wind suddenly appeared beside Lara, resting on her shoulder in the shape of a tiny woman. She bore large bug-like eyes, green skin, and an equally green dress that seemed like an extension of her small body. “She wears her heart on her sleeve. That’s the term, right? I heard Tristan say that before.”

Lara nodded. “What do you mean, Wind?”

Tristan and Destiny glanced at her, and she shook her head.

“She loves him,” Wind said.

Lara gasped, eliciting another glance from Destiny and Tristan. She shook her head again. “You’re certain?”

“She didn’t say it outright, but have you looked at your sister lately?” Wind began to imitate exaggerated versions of human expressions. “The large eyes, the sweet voice, following him around like a small, lost animal.” She gasped. “And the touching! Look!”

Destiny had Tristan’s hand clasped in both of hers. She smiled warmly at him and was saying something, but Wind and Fire were much too loud for Lara to hear.

“She touches him so much!” Wind continued.

“The men are a commodity,” Fire said. “Did you forget that?”

“Oh, shut up, hothead. That’s more than just simple friendship! The girl’s enamored!”

“She can’t be,” Lara said, blinking. The Elements didn’t understand Destiny like she did. This was just how she was. Tristan was a beacon of hope for her sister during their time at the school. Destiny’s whole face would light up whenever she spoke of him. Sure, it had intensified somewhat since they left Shi Island, but it was her duty as a maid to—

“This is totally crazy,” Wind giggled. “What a daring girl.”

“Lara, get dressed!” Tristan said excitedly. At some point, he and Destiny had finished. “I’d like to have you there.”

“Why? I don’t know anything about business or money or…anything that San Island is suffering from,” Lara said, yawning. “Besides, I’m still so tired.”

“Please?”

Lara blinked. She couldn’t say no to him. Their roles as master and servant may have been dismantled, but the desire to be useful was still there. “Okay. Give me a few minutes.”

Once Lara was ready, she, Tristan, and Destiny met Ravyn in the ballroom. They stopped a few feet away from her, Lara on Tristan’s left and Destiny to his right. Ravyn was observing tears in the rug, poking at the flaps of fabric with the tip of her shoe. They flopped over like wet leather, and the [Sorcerer] clicked her tongue.

“Good morning,” Tristan said in his chipper voice. How he could manage that persona under these circumstances, Lara had no idea.

“Morning,” Ravyn said bluntly, passing looks between Lara and Destiny. Bally swooped down and landed on top of Ravyn’s head. He tucked his beak beneath his wing and plucked a feather from his body. A crunch followed, and the bird let the feather fall from his beak, floating harmlessly to the floor. “Did the servants take care of you?”

“Yes. They were exquisite with the level of service provided!” Destiny said with admiration in her tone.

“Mm.” Ravyn stepped closer to Tristan and then adjusted the fabric beneath the sash. “It was a little crooked.”

“Oh! Thanks, Ravyn,” Tristan said, smiling.

“Are you feeling alright, Ravyn?” Destiny asked.

“I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

“Sister! Sister!” came a high-pitched squeal from the second floor. A sigh escaped Ravyn’s lips before she turned around to welcome her little sister. “I missed you!” Sophia threw her arms around Ravyn’s legs and nuzzled her cheek against them.

How lovely, Lara thought, her cheeks burning slightly.

“Missed you, too,” Ravyn said with a hint of reluctance. “Ravyn and her friends have to talk to Mommy about stuff, so can you wait here?”

Sophia nodded, her smile wide and infectious. “Yes!”

The two parted, and Ravyn motioned for Lara and the others to follow. Sophia waited as she was told, and the two climbed the stairs up to Emberlynn’s dining room. Ravyn drew a deep breath, then rapped her knuckle against the door.

“I don’t think this is going to go over well,” Wind whispered. “Ravyn’s too angry at everything.”

“How come?” Lara asked.

“It’s complicated,” Fire said. “The woman’s fury is justified.”

“Says you!” Wind combated. “She needs to get over it!”

“We can’t all carry the whimsy of a child like you,” Fire growled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you need everything explained to you?”

“Why, you petulant—”

“Stop,” Lara whispered. “Please. I need to pay attention. Or try, at least.”

Ravyn frowned at her, and Lara shrunk under her powerful gaze.

“Come in,” a woman said from inside the room.

Ravyn turned the knob and pushed the door open. She stood to one side, ushering Lara and the others inside, then shut the door behind them. The room was just as exquisite as the others, bearing red and gold with hints of black. Four plates of food had been placed on the table, two on each side. To their left was Emberlynn.

She looked absolutely dreadful. Her skin was thin and pocked with abnormal spots and blemishes unbecoming of someone her age. Silky red and black garments clothed her in a modest fashion, and three decorated buttons clasped the collar together. Two long sticks kept her hair—of which was mostly gray, with hints of red—tied up into a bun, and her ears drooped to the sides.

Exhaustion racked her features. Deep bags hung under her heavy-lidded eyes, and the woman still managed to carry an air of aristocracy; of command and control. Her hands crossed, she propped her elbows up on the table, then motioned with a slow nod of her head.

“Please. Take a seat. I think business is best discussed during meals,” Emberlynn said. Her voice was smooth, delicate, yet somehow unnerving. It was not the tone of a gentle older woman but of a catgirl who commanded obedience. You would sit, and you would listen.

Wanting to stay out of the way, Lara rounded the table—which was exceptionally long, nearly taking up the length of the room—and took one of the seats on the opposite end. Ravyn took the seat directly across from her while Tristan whispered something into Destiny’s ear before taking the chair beside Ravyn. Lara smiled as Destiny rounded the table next, and once all four of them were seated, Emberlynn spoke once more.

“I hope the meals are to your satisfaction.” She retrieved a simple teacup of steaming liquid, then sipped at its edge before setting it back down. Another catgirl, whom Lara had just now noticed, stood beside Emberlynn with her hands behind her back and her eyes shut. She hadn’t said a word, but Lara imagined that she would be at Emberlynn’s beck and call at a moment’s notice. “If they are not, then do not refrain from speaking out. I will have it corrected.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mother,” Ravyn said, plucking a fork from the table. “Can we discuss what we’re here for?”

“Yes.” Her stare veered to Tristan. “I am told that the current economics of San Island are not to your liking.”

Tristan shook his head. “That’s incorrect, Lady Emberlynn. I would never be so brash as to suggest such a thing. I simply see room for improvement, and so I have come at Cailu Raloquen’s request.”

“Nice word choice,” Wind complimented.

Lara blinked. “Wow.”

Emberlynn displayed the faintest hint of a smile. “So you’re a follower, not a leader.” She exhaled through her nose.

Tristan flinched.

“Ouch,” Wind said.

“What an incredible woman,” Fire chuckled.

“Fine. Sakura?” Emberlynn said. The servant batted her eyes open and stepped closer to her master. “Leave us.”

“Yes, Lady Emberlynn.” Sakura offered a curt nod, then strode across the room, disappearing into another room.

When the door shut, Emberlynn continued. “Very well. Let’s take the gloves off and speak with honesty. If you would claim to do this better, then you’d best know what task you’re taking on.”

Tristan’s back straightened, and he rested both hands clasped on the table. “Please. Enlighten me.”

For the first time that day, Wind and Fire waited alongside Lara in perfect silence.

 

A note from DoubleBlind:

A huge thank you to my new Patron, King Dabba

---​

Chapter 249: The Truth is Out There

“Cannoli, we are here,” Sahzi’s gentle voice wove its way into Cannoli’s dreams. “Wake up, sweet child.”

Cannoli blinked away her sleep to find Sahzi smiling across from her, holding the carriage curtain open. Remembering where she was, Cannoli shot to attention, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders. “I-I’m so sorry! I dozed off—”

“No need to apologize. It was quite a long journey.” Sahzi shook her head, then gestured out the window. “Welcome to Falselle, Cannoli.”

Cannoli leaned forward to peer outside the carriage window and was met with a blinding combination of sapphire and gold. Tall buildings painted in perfect white were covered with stunning stained glass windows framed by intricate golden filigree. Glimmering sapphires bedecked towering spires that soared high into the pure blue sky. Women in white robes, very much like Sahzi’s, were grouped together in prayer and travels. Three of their number wore masks alike to Saoirse’s, while many others had sapphires braided into their hair.

“It’s so beautiful,” Cannoli murmured.

“This is only the beginning, child,” Sahzi mused. “Your true walk with Saoirse begins today.”

A dozen worries plagued Cannoli’s heart. Was she really fit to walk among the devout? Would she find the answers she sought? Could she really do this without her friends at her side?

Sahzi placed a consoling hand on Cannoli’s shoulder. “It is normal to feel overwhelmed at first. We all did. You must trust in yourself and those that guide you along your path.”

“Of course,” Cannoli whispered. She clenched her trembling hands into fists. “This is what I’ve wanted since I was a kitten.”

“Then you will find yourself at home amongst your sisters here.” Sahzi squeezed her shoulders.

Sisters… Keke… Cannoli shook her head and coiled her tail around her waist. “Where will I be staying, Sahzi?”

“Your quarters will be within the main temple’s abbey alongside your fellow initiates.”

The white horses drew the carriage around a massive fountain, where a statue of Saoirse herself stood at its center, holding a golden bowl that produced its own stream of crystalline water.

“How many initiates are there?” Cannoli asked.

“At this time, there are three more who recently arrived to study. The others within your cloister have varying degrees of knowledge.” Sahzi took one of her brunette braids in hand, then pointed to a string of sapphires woven inside the tendrils. “You, too, will earn your sapphires as you advance.”

“I see.” It was hard not to enjoy the tiny stir of excitement in her stomach as Cannoli imagined her own strings of gems in her white hair. “What about the masks? Are those also earned?”

“Those who wear Saoirse’s aspect are the masters among us, Cannoli. We are not to disturb them,” Sahzi cautioned. “We see them as the direct will of Saoirse—her prophets—as they have dedicated their lives to her service. If you are deemed worthy, you will apprentice to a prophet.”

“They’re different from [Bishop]s, then?” Cannoli tried to recall if her mother had ever kept a mask like that. No, I’m sure I would remember.

“Some may have obtained a Third Class, but it is not a requirement. The prophets have learned all there is to know about our goddess and committed it to heart. Her decrees, her hymns, her wills; they are the true emissaries of Saoirse, child. Unless Saoirse should will it, their lives are served in dedication to Falselle.” Sahzi leaned back in her seat and clasped her hands in her lap. “For many of them, the residents here have never seen their true faces. You must treat them as if you speak with Saoirse herself. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” As Cannoli watched the prophets amongst the groups of white-robed women, she began to understand what Sahzi meant. One led the prayers amongst those with hands clasped to their chest. Another traveled alone, and passersby respected them with a bow and the proper hand gesture. The third had vanished while they spoke. “So, once I’m settled in, where do I go?”

Sahzi’s warm smile returned. “It is good to meet one so eager. We will take breakfast together in the dining hall, and I will give you a formal tour of the temple.”

Cannoli flicked her ears and frowned. “I thought you said my journey begins today?”

“It does, my dear. From this moment on, your actions will be witnessed and judged by Saoirse and her prophets. To become a [Priest], you will need their approval.”

Someone is watching me? Cannoli glanced at Sahzi from the corner of her eye. Sahzi’s eyes favored the initiate, never wavering to the grand city just outside their window. Oh. “Thank you, Sahzi.”

“Whatever for?”

“Your patience in helping me learn and for your understanding.” Cannoli’s gaze returned to the passing initiates and decadent buildings. “This is my first time away from my friends, and, well, I’m afraid to admit it, but I’m nervous.”

“Of course, child. That is to be expected. We all must set aside our comforts to accept the goddess’s light. That is not an easy thing.”

“No, it’s not,” Cannoli murmured. The carriage clattered along a cobblestone pathway before stopping at a walkway flanked by tall white columns. “But I’m ready.”

“Excellent.” Sahzi nodded and opened the carriage door. “Then let us begin.”

Sahzi led them inside the temple beneath magnificent archways. Inside was a wide entrance hall with towering ceilings—the arcade, Sahzi called it. A square pool of water with a statue of a crowned kitten playing at its head was built in the center, surrounded by tall green trees and flowering bushes sporting blooms of all colors.

But the ceiling held Cannoli’s attention the longest. Detailed paintings of Saoirse’s acts of kindness and generosity spanned the length of the arcade. Passing out gifts on Cherishing Day, blessing the Seven Swords, and serving as a shimmering beacon for the Starbirth Celebration. The images were so lifelike and perfect, stirring warmth and admiration in Cannoli’s chest.

“That’s amazing,” Cannoli marveled.

“It is, isn’t it?” Sahzi joined her in peering up at the mural. “It was painted by just two artists long before our time.”

“My goodness.” Tristan would love to see this. Cannoli pushed away the thought and refocused her attention on the rest of the arcade. It had two levels and two sets of spiral staircases at either end of the hall. More women in white robes moved on either side of the fountain, some carrying books, others carrying quiet conversations with one another. “My apologies, I was distracted.”

“An easy thing when basking in Saoirse’s beauty. Do not worry, child. Now, the arcade leads to anywhere you need to go within the temple,” Sahzi explained, keeping her voice low. Despite the arcade’s size, the sound of the fountain overpowered the soft conversations happening within its walls. “Each doorway is labeled, so you needn’t worry about getting lost. You’ll find the way to your quarters in the abbey, the dining hall, the temple of worship, the library, and your studies from this room.”

Cannoli nodded. Even if they were labeled, she wondered if a map would be a good idea. “Okay.”

“This way to the abbey. Come along, child.” Sahzi lightly stepped to one of the staircases and began her ascent.

Cannoli followed along behind her, realizing just how loud her footsteps were on the tile. Feeling very suddenly self-conscious, she slowed and tried to keep her weight on the balls of her feet. It didn’t seem to work. “How do you walk so quietly?” she whispered once she’d made it to the top of the stairs.

“You will learn,” Sahzi assured her. “Very observant for you to notice. We must be gentle in all things.”

“Even our footsteps?”

“Yes. Each step is an appreciation to Saoirse, for she blessed the very ground we tread. We must show it reverence.”

Cannoli nodded, determined to copy how Sahzi walked. She watched carefully and had just figured out how to lengthen her steps when they reached the door to the abbey. Sahzi watched her with mild amusement as they moved through the room of bunk beds and study corners.

They stopped at a small alcove of two bunk beds, where three young women were just beginning to stir from slumber.

“Ladies, your newest sister has arrived.” Sahzi clasped her hands together and rested them against her legs. “And might I add, you have slept past the sun, children.”

All three shot from their bed sheets and rushed to the floor in their bare feet and matching nightgowns. They clasped their hands and bowed their heads in respect.

“Sister Sahzi, please excuse us. Sister Frejya bid us take this morning to ourselves,” the young woman on the left said. She appeared to be around Cannoli’s age, with ivory skin and black and violet hair that was cropped up to her chin. The tail tucked between her legs matched the vivid streaks on her head.

“A learning opportunity, then. What could you have done better with this time, my children?” Sahzi asked.

“Studied Saoirse’s Decrees or memorized her hymns,” the one on the right squeaked. She was young and had an even smaller stature than Cannoli—side by side, the initiate would barely meet Cannoli’s shoulder. Her pink pigtails were tightly braided down her back, ending at her waist. She blinked wide green eyes up at Sahzi, and her blanched face nearly blended in with her nightgown.

“Very good, Cora. What do you think, Muzhira?”

Muzhira seemed to be the eldest—and tallest—of the three. She was positioned in the center, and she stared at Cannoli with piercing red eyes set inside a dark complexion. Her ebony hair was swung over one shoulder, and she stood at straight-backed attention like a soldier. “I think I know you,” she muttered in a low voice.

Cannoli twitched with surprise and hissed in a slow breath. Muzhira looked so very much like Zahra. But beyond Sanrai, she couldn’t think of another person she’d met with such a similar appearance. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Muzhira, your lack of attention is noted,” Sahzi said.

Muzhira bowed at the waist. “Forgive me, Sister Sahzi. My time this morning may have been better spent helping fellow initiates or praying for help on my path.”

“Excellent answer, Muzhira. Now, if you would all prepare yourselves for the day, Cannoli and I would be honored if you joined us for breakfast.” Sahzi motioned to the empty bunk. “Cannoli, this will be your bed.”

Cannoli nodded and offloaded the few items she’d brought with her into the small nightstand beside the bed. It seemed she’d be sleeping under Cora.

“I’m Rozalyn, by the way,” the third girl introduced herself quietly as Cannoli waited for them to dress.

“I’m Cannoli,” she replied brightly. “I’m sorry to wake you on your day of rest.”

Rozalyn grinned. “As you heard, we should have been awake anyway.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Gotta work harder for those sapphires.”

Cannoli hummed her agreement as Rozalyn returned to dressing for the day.

Sahzi waited until they were dressed, then called for them to follow. “Wonderful. Come along, now.”

When Sahzi, Rozalyn, and Cora were a few steps ahead, Muzhira touched Cannoli’s wrist and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I could never forget your face. You destroyed Rājadhānī.”

Ice trickled through Cannoli’s veins. She looked to Muzhira, wide-eyed. “I-I—”

Muzhira flashed a sharp smile. “Saoirse’s blessings be upon you, Cannoli.” Without another word, she marched forward to join the other initiates.

Cannoli steeled herself and caught up to the group. She was being watched and tested. Whatever Muzhira believed, Cannoli would need to take it in stride.

Saoirse protect me.

 

Chapter 250: Kitten

Ravyn furrowed her brow as she sipped her cup of tea. Gone was the kind and empathetic mother who wished only for her daughter’s safety and happiness. The businesswoman had arrived, and she was as cutthroat as they came. Bally hopped down onto the table to Ravyn’s right, and the [Sorcerer] braced for what would no doubt be one of the coldest conversations of her life.

Emberlynn coughed into a handkerchief before continuing. “Let us proceed with introductions first. My name is Emberlynn of San Island, as my daughter has no doubt informed you. I am the owner of Emberlynn’s Fine Arts and Jewelry,” she said with her fingertips pressed lightly against her chest, “and mother to Ravyn of San Island and Sophia of San Island.”

The mention of Sophia made Ravyn’s eye twitch.

Tristan nodded when Emberlynn met his gaze. “My name is Tristan Erato. I am here on behalf of Cailu Raloquen, and I serve as Shi Island’s man. It is a pleasure to meet you, Emberlynn.”

Emberlynn’s sharp gaze landed on the maids next, shifting between one and the other.

Destiny fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “M-My name is Destiny… of Shi Island.” There seemed to be some hesitation in her tone. Ravyn tilted her gaze toward her, away from her mother, and raised her brows. The maid took a deep breath, then straightened her posture. “I have journeyed with Tristan to assist him. I came from the Venicia School of Etiquette, and am an experienced [Alchemist].”

Emberlynn nodded, looking at Lara next.

Lara blinked. “My name is Lara of Shi Island.” She shut her mouth, opened it, then shut it again. “I also came from the Venicia School of Etiquette. My specialty lies in conjuration magic.”

Emberlynn raised a brow. “You are a [Conjurer], then?”

“Yes! I am!”

“Rare ones, you are. Do the Elements speak to you as they do with my daughter?”

Ravyn nearly dropped her cup, tightening her grip just as it was slipping. Fucking what?

Lara paused. “I… That is…”

Emberlynn smiled, albeit barely. “Do not be alarmed, child. I know many [Conjurer]s pursue such a Class when they are able to hear the voices of the Elements. I am an [Arbiter]. I am no stranger to the mystique of magic. You need not be afraid to express your ability.”

Lara looked beyond relieved. “Y-Yes! I can speak with the Elements! Wind and Fire are with me as we speak!” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’ve begun to realize that I get strange looks whenever I say such things.”

Emberlynn hummed. “Perhaps we could discuss whether you would be interested in tutoring my dear Sophia. We shall leave that until later, however.”

Lara blinked. “Of course!”

You have got to be fucking kidding me. They exist? No, that’s not right; it’s all speculation. Mother is just delusional from her sickness. There is no evidence that the Elements have any sort of willpower or consciousness.

Ravyn cleared her throat. “Mother? Can we please continue?”

Emberlynn’s sharp gaze returned. “Yes. Pardon my digression.” She adjusted her posture and placed her clasped hands on her lap. “Let us continue. You state you are here on a missive from Cailu Raloquen.”

His name alone sent chills down Ravyn’s spine.

“Yes, that is correct,” Tristan nodded. “He expressed concern with the conditions of San Island and wished to make better on his promise to take care of it. He fears that brute force alone will not suffice. Rather than simply protect, he wishes to provide future generations the means to not only survive, but to live.”

Ravyn suppressed the urge to whistle. The boy’s got a mind for diplomacy. I’ll give him that.

Emberlynn narrowed her gaze slightly. Ravyn was intimately familiar with that expression. Now that she better knew her partners, it was time to dance.

“An honorable notion, to be sure,” Emberlynn said. “For which areas does he find his presence does not suffice?”

Careful, Tristan. She will trap you and put words in your mouth. Don’t play into her game.

Ravyn had to be careful as well. Dancing with her mother when it came to business was dirty and calculating. If you couldn’t think a few steps ahead, then you’d already lost. She’d been unaware of how her mother felt in regard to San Island’s conditions, but the tone and word choice revealed that well enough. She’d need to keep her interactions polite and wait her turn to speak. Attempting to clarify anything Tristan said would paint him in a bad light, giving him the appearance that he was unable to speak for himself.

Ravyn would offer her input when the time was right.

Tristan kept his expression serious. “I would first ask you a question.” Emberlynn nodded her consent. “I had the privilege of seeing one of Melody’s record books. A woman from the Arch Tower. Do you know of her?”

“Of course I do,” Emberlynn said with a hint of irritation.

Ravyn took a sip of her tea. Damn it, boy. Of course she does. She knows everyone. Assume she knows unless stated otherwise. Part of her blamed herself for not giving Tristan a crash course on how to speak to Emberlynn. She wished desperately to link her mind to his somehow. To speak to him in a way Mother couldn’t detect. But she knew no magic that could perform such feats. Not that it mattered. Being a powerful [Arbiter], Emberlynn would know the instant she tried.

“I should have expected as much,” Tristan said with a curt nod.

Good recovery. Keep going. It’s your turn to talk, still.

“Mister Raloquen expressed concern with the wellbeing of San Island’s children, primarily,” Tristan continued, clasping his hands and setting them on the table. “The record book I borrowed detailed concerning reports regarding nyannies and residences. As I am sure you’re familiar with Melody’s methods, I was hoping you could explain the situation.”

“Why come to me? Why not ask Melody?” Emberlynn asked.

“Ravyn mentioned you by name, expressing that we needed a master’s touch.” He glanced at Ravyn, and she offered him a subtle smile. “I would be remiss to assume any one person is responsible for an island’s shortcomings. I must simply stress that Cailu and I wish to see the island prosper even more than it already has.”

She’s going to bring up the children next.

“So, you and Cailu are in agreement that the kittens suffer under our management,” Emberlynn said. “A bold claim.”

Push her. Push her. Ravyn’s grip tightened around her cup. Her heart pounded against her chest, and even Bally seemed a bit uncomfortable under the oppressive air of the conversation.

“A true claim,” Tristan said firmly. “I apologize if I have overstepped. Zhuli seems like a beautiful place to live. Many of its residents have their own businesses, their own families, and want for little more. It is peaceful here, serene even. I may go so far as to say that it is a paradise.” Tristan smiled at Ravyn, then looked back at Emberlynn. “However, I fear you are not completely aware of the situation in Shulan. The kittens pickpocket from anyone who comes near. They’re dirty, and in dire need of food, clean water, and clothes.” He shook his head. “If not for Ravyn, my [Cat Pack] would’ve surely been stolen.”

Emberlynn leaned into the palm of one hand, tapping her index finger against her cheek. “You do overstep your boundaries. You do not understand.”

“Then help me understand. I see these kittens, and in them I see myself,” Tristan said with a pained expression. “Something needs to be done about it.”

“If I may,” Destiny said with a hand held up. Emberlynn gestured for her to continue. “What Tristan says is true. Before my sister and I came to the Venicia School of Etiquette, we lived in Leche.”

Emberlynn sat up, a curious look on her face. Ravyn watched carefully—anything that would reveal her mother’s cards.

Destiny continued, “I am no stranger to the terrors of Nyarlea. The four of us have traveled to Ichi Island and seen the worst of it. Kittens and their mothers begging for coins, malnourished, desperate for water, and unable to leave due to the harsh desert beyond.” She shook her head. “It was enough to break my heart, and I see a similar issue in Shulan.”

Good. She needs to hear it from another person who doesn’t live here, who doesn’t have a bias against her own island.

“Please,” Lara said, “what must be done to help the children?”

“Mother,” Ravyn at last said. “What if it was me in the streets? Or Sophia?”

“To hypothesize such speculation is absurd,” Emberlynn growled. “That is not the circumstance here.”

“Cailu has sired how many children at this point? He even sired my sister.” Ravyn’s fingers curled at the words. “I have traveled to each island, Mother. I have witnessed firsthand what they struggle with. How they get their food, how they survive, the dreams that are smashed against the stones. The kittens are our future. This situation you have is unsustainable. You know that.”

“Do not speak to me of things you do not understand,” Emberlynn hissed.

Don’t let your temper get the best of you, Ravyn reminded herself. “Then help us understand. One day, those children will be adults. I am sure we can all agree that we can’t have thieves still running the streets ten years from now.”

An uncomfortable silence swept over them. Emberlynn leaned against the other arm, blinking. She drummed the fingers of her other hand against her decorated chair, her food barely touched. Seemed no one had the nerve to eat while—

“Incredible food,” Lara said, carrying a piece of fish to her mouth. “Try it, sister!”

Do you have no fucking ability to read the room?

Destiny picked up her fork with a shaky hand, then delivered a piece of the same cut of fish to her mouth. Her expression brightened, and a light gasp escaped her lips. “Oh my goodness, you’re right!”

I can’t believe this.

To Ravyn’s surprise, Emberlynn smiled, gesturing for Tristan to take a bite next. The poor boy—or man, rather—had his hands clasped for so long that she had to imagine they’d picked up a significant amount of sweat. Unsurprisingly, Tristan wiped his hands on his pants beneath the table and reached for a helping of soft, sticky rice using his spoon.

“Thank you,” Tristan said before taking a bite. “Oh wow.”

“How is it?” Emberlynn asked.

“I’ve never had such amazing rice. My compliments to the chef.”

“Yukari will be delighted to hear that.”

Somehow, Lara had penetrated the thick air around them with ease. Once she, Destiny, and Tristan dug in, Ravyn suddenly felt the pangs of hunger and gave in. Emberlynn joined in moments later, and the conversation became more lively, more lighthearted. Emberlynn laughed at Ravyn’s expense, and she fought hard to hide her burning cheeks.

“She’s always been like that,” Emberlynn giggled. “‘Fuck this,’ ‘fuck that,’ ‘fuck you.’ Goodness, the words that come out of her mouth. You can barely tell I ever raised her!”

Tristan and his Party laughed as Ravyn hid her face. Talk about a tonal shift.

“She kind of scared me when I first met her,” Destiny said. “She poisoned me and my sister.”

Saoirse’s tits, why did you have to say that?

“I-I didn’t poison you!” Ravyn exclaimed. “I, we…had shit to do.” She clapped a hand to her mouth, and she shrank beneath her mother’s judgmental gaze.

“It’s fine,” Emberlynn snickered. “It doesn’t matter. Just be you. That’s all a mother could want.”

Ravyn frowned. “You mean it?”

“Don’t I? I have missed you for so long, my daughter.” She raised her cup of tea, her smile growing wider. “It feels wonderful to have you in the home again.”

“Y-Yeah,” she groaned.

“Which reminds me.” She set her cup down, glancing between her and Tristan. “Now that I know you’re alive, maybe I’ll live long enough to be a grandmother.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Ravyn said, shaking her head. She could barely look at Tristan. “Not with him. Uh, no offense.”

Tristan spurted. “None taken.”

“I take it that means you have someone in mind?” Emberlynn asked.

Ravyn started, and images of Matt came to mind. She missed his laugh, his snarky attitude about everything, his combative personality. Still, he had a heart of gold, and his actions spoke louder than his words. Of any man she’d met, she had no doubt he could accomplish anything if he set his mind to it. The memory of their night together crept in at the seams…

No!

“None,” Ravyn said, smiling wide. “Not…yet, that is.”

Emberlynn scoffed. “If you say so.” She set her cup down, looking at Tristan. “As much as I am enjoying this lovely conversation, I think it would be best if we discussed why you came here. You came here for a master’s touch. To solve the issues of San Island, you will need it.”

“Then…you are willing to review how kittens are treated? In Shulan especially?” Tristan asked.

“I am. But do not mistake our prior conversation for play. If the issues run as deeply as you say, then this is not something we can solve overnight.”

“I am open to any suggestions you have.”

Emberlynn’s business face returned. “Good. Listen, and listen well. You are not going to like what you hear.”

Ravyn set her cup down, her plate half-finished. The dance would continue.

I hope you can pull it off, Tristan.

 

Chapter 251: A Chill Goes Through Her Veins

With Cannoli gone, Matt, Ceres, and Keke shared their own carriage, which left Zahra alone with Kirti and Cailu.

Kirti favored Zahra with her haunting orange stare, a permanent smirk affixed to her face. She juggled three colored rocks between her fingers. Somehow, their clicking together was worse than the silence.

For the hundredth time in their travels, Zahra wondered if she’d made a mistake. How could she possibly fill Naeemah’s shoes when Kirti so easily slid beneath her skin? She missed Tristan’s Party and their warm conversations. Cailu and Kirti felt so beyond her reach, both in Level and in knowledge. Zahra had never ventured from Ichi Island, which limited her greatly.

I wish I could return home.

But that would mean failing Queen Naeemah. Zahra would rather die than fail her.

“Our last few days of traveling have felt so cold,” Kirti mused. “What happened to building trust, Zahra?”

Zahra looked out the carriage window, searching for something she could concentrate on that wasn’t the [Witch Doctor]. Unfortunately, the road outside of Irisil was a sea of grass. Not a tree or a mountain or much of anything beyond the occasional rock or weed.

Kirti sighed. “And here I thought Benzi would bring us closer together.”

Zahra had avoided Kirti since playing her conceptual card game. After just a few plays, Kirti made it clear that she was looking for more than just a way to pass the time. “The questions you ask are…” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Dangerous?” Kirti supplied.

Zahra stole a glance from the corner of her eye. Kirti’s smile had widened.

“Did you find my questions dangerous, Cailu?” Kirti asked.

“That would depend on who you ask,” Cailu murmured into his hand. He had taken to staring out the window on his side, idly listening to the conversation. Zahra wondered why he was so quiet but her nerves wouldn’t allow her to question him. “I do not believe that Saoirse’s [Acolyte]s would find your quandaries appropriate.”

Finding herself unsettled by Cailu’s reply, Zahra turned and appealed to Cailu. “Asking where the Defiled come from? If Saoirse truly exists? If trapping souls into your stones would alter the fate of the world? That’s blasphemous!” Her voice sounded more desperate than she’d intended, like a kitten arguing with her mother. “E-excuse me, I’ve spoken out of turn.”

“No, Zahra. Please, continue.” Kirti collected the trio of stones in her palm and curled them into a fist. “It seems you have forgotten our conversation about my research.”

Zahra squirmed. On the boat. Kirti herself had said the books she read were marked as blasphemous. But to hear her force the questions out loud and attempt to tease the answers from Cailu—Kirti went against everything Zahra was taught.

Cailu slightly shifted his position to watch them, and Kirti’s eyes never left Zahra’s face. It was an intense scrutiny from both parties that Zahra had never experienced before.

She cleared her throat. “My mother told me that many catgirls are punished and rehabilitated for less. My father believed that questioning the world’s deepest secrets was to question the creator itself.”

“You knew your father?” Cailu asked.

Zahra flushed. “No. But Krethik’s teachings were passed on in my family.”

“Not to your sister,” Kirti said.

The mention of Sanrai twisted knots inside Zahra’s stomach and chest. Despite all that had happened and the time separating her from Sanrai’s death, it still felt surreal. Like at any moment, Sanrai would be there, telling Zahra how disappointed she was. “You have mentioned Sanrai on multiple occasions now. How do you know so much about her?”

“I told you, child. Do not ask questions that you don’t want the answers to,” Kirti said, narrowing her gaze.

“I want the answer!” Zahra snapped. Her hands trembled at her sides. When had they balled into fists? For days on end, she’d forced herself to stay neutral. Carefully hide her emotions and expressions as Naeemah did.

But she wasn’t Naeemah. That much was clear.

“Answer her, Kirti,” Cailu said.

“I am neither your familiar nor your pet, Cailu. Do not order me like a beast come to heel.” An angry fire flickered in Kirti’s eyes.

“You avoid the topic, then.” Cailu shook his head. “I thought it was I who spoke in circles?”

For the first time since joining their Party, Kirti looked uncomfortable. Zahra blinked; the slight squirm and droop of Kirti’s shoulders looked out of place on her confident form. Zahra’s tangled stomach loosened, and the first pricks of unease cooled her frustration. What if Kirti was trying to protect her?

Kirti unfurled her fingers and studied the stones in her hand. With a long sigh, she tucked them into her [Cat Pack] and folded her hands into her lap.

“When you deal in the business of souls, you learn to read them.” Kirti measured her words, and her knowing posture returned. “Everyone’s soul has etchings from their journey of existence. These etchings may be written into us by others—” she looked directly at Cailu, “—like a wife or daughter, for example.”

Cailu’s features darkened. Zahra’s heart skipped, and her breath caught. It was as if winter had swept into their carriage. She didn’t know what a wife was and was too afraid to ask.

“You think to punish me, witch?” Cailu growled.

Kirti held his glare without so much as flinching. “I only do as you ask.”

“Mention either of them again, Kirti, and I assure you my blade will etch its memory into your flesh.” Cailu’s voice was cold and furious.

Zahra shivered. She knew she had to say something. Anything. “Sanrai, then, she’s etched into me?”

“Yes.” Kirti didn’t break her stare with Cailu.

“Do you have anyone that’s etched onto you, Kirti?” Zahra continued.

“All those I’ve interacted with. As we all do.”

“Well, some interactions are more meaningful than others, correct? Like a sister or a mother?” Zahra was reaching. As much as Kirti frustrated and terrified her, she didn’t want Cailu to cut the woman down. It would feel as if she’d failed Naeemah. “Surely more important people leave bigger marks?”

“An interesting assumption.” Kirti relaxed back into her seat. Cailu didn’t move. “‘Bigger’ is not the term I would use. They are…different. But you have the right of it.”

“So, who was different for you?” Zahra repeated.

A tiny smile returned to Kirti’s lips. “What a roundabout way to question my history.”

Zahra waited to see if the tiniest sign of forgiveness would come from Cailu. When he still remained a statue, she continued, “Listen, I wish to trust you. I wish to think your research is for the betterment of Nyarlea. But you know so much about us, and we know so little about you.”

Kirti looked between her and Cailu, then crossed her arms and let her eyes slide to the window. It was a long time before she said anything. “I share a similar mark to Cailu. An etching I recognized immediately.”

“Oh? Please, enlighten us,” Cailu said.

Kirti stared far outside the window—beyond the rocks and weeds and miles of grass. “I lost my daughter to the Defiled.” Her hollow tone reverberated in Zahra’s bones.

Cailu’s façade cracked, and his hands relaxed. “My apologies, Kirti. It’s an unfortunate reality for many in Nyarlea.”

“Perhaps,” Kirti murmured. “Tell me, do pity and sympathy garner trust?”

“No. But I think understanding can,” Zahra replied softly. “Loss is something we share. It could help us fight on a more united front.”

“Vengeance does not grant peace,” Cailu said as he leaned back.

“Not for vengeance. I meant for… well…” Zahra stumbled, unable to find the right words to say. “Never mind.”

“For Growth,” Kirti supplied. “You’re better at Benzi than you think.”

Silence fell over them again, though warmth had blessedly returned to the carriage. Zahra pulled her long hair over her shoulder and joined Kirti in watching the land pass them by.

Maybe this journey wasn’t wasteful after all.

 

Chapter 1: The Badass

Day 0

The moment Matt Kelmer’s boot hit the sand, he knew what had to be done.

“There’s already room for improvement,” he murmured, surveying the tropical landscape with a hand shading his eyes. “I’ll fix it.”

“Hey!” a voice sounded to his left. A brown-haired maiden in a deep blue one-piece swimsuit waved an arm and jogged up to his side. Fluffy ears flicked forward atop her head, and a long tail trailed from behind. “Are you—” her golden pools widened, and she gasped. “You’re a man!”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A catgirl. Just like Leiana had promised. “That I am. You have a name?”

She tipped her head to the side. “It’s Keke.”

“I’m Matt.” He nodded, then felt a sudden, heavy weight in his back pocket. Curious, he pulled it free. It was a slim, rectangular device with cat ears poking from the cover. “What’s this?”

“An iPaw. All men get one.” Keke furrowed her brow and poked at it. “I’ve never seen one before.”

That explained it. “Will this keep track of my Levels?”

“I… believe so, yes.”

Matt pressed the square button on the bottom of the screen. “What’s the fastest way to Level up here in Nyarlea?”

“By killing Encroachers, I think. Some girls offer Bells for Quests, but there isn’t a Guild Hall in Junonia, so that’s a bit harder.” Keke crossed her arms over her chest. “Where did you come from?”

“Not now.” Matt raised a hand and listened as a pixelated, monotone catgirl introduced herself as ‘Ai.’ She offered a tutorial, and he selected ‘Yes,’ skimming quickly and skipping through her dialogue as he would in any of the thousands of games he’d played before. “Is there a Class system?”

“System?” Keke’s tail ticked back and forth behind her while she studied him.

“Yes. For fighting to gain Levels. Encroachers, you said. Those are the monsters here, right?”

“Ah. Yeah. Right. You can choose a Class. I just never looked at it as a ‘system.’” She touched her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Aren’t you hungry? Tired?”

“Of course not.” Matt had trained long and hard for this day. His body was in impeccable shape, his mind was razor sharp, and he was going to usher this world into a new era.

Ai finished her tutorial, and Matt quickly thumbed through the menus to find [Class Selection]. He scanned his options in a matter of heartbeats, memorizing every Class’s pros and cons with his photographic memory. At last, he chose Fighter. If his expansive experience with games was anything to go by, a powerhouse tank would be the easiest way to min-max in Nyarlea.

New Notifications!

Matt has successfully changed to [Fighter]!

Matt swept the notification window away, then frowned when he couldn’t find a way to access his inventory. Every world had an inventory. “How do I access my equipment?”

“What do you mean?”

Matt sighed. Time was ticking. “I just chose [Fighter]. Do I start with a weapon, or do I have to buy one?”

“Oh! You start with one. Just say [Combat Mode]. Like this.” Keke thrust her arm forward and repeated, “[Combat Mode].”

A warm yellow light enveloped her, and her swimsuit melded into a green leather top and pants. A longbow extended from her outstretched hand, and a quiver of arrows appeared at her hip.

“Right. [Combat Mode].” A similar light wrapped around Matt, but he wasn’t interested in his starter gear. That would change later. He shoved the blade of his sword into the sand and returned his attention to the iPaw.

The [Skills] screen was next. If this world was at all fair, he’d at least get one Skill to start with.

[Sword Mastery]. That would work.

He spent the point when a movement caught the corner of his eye. A small, crablike crustacean danced near his ankles.

“Encroacher?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, but—”

Matt raised his sword and swung down hard. The crab split in half, and green blood sputtered onto the sand. Another notification window appeared on the iPaw, and Keke blinked her surprise.

Matt has gained a Level!

He wiped the green blood on his pant leg and grinned up at Keke. “So, want to be in my harem?”

Keke gaped. “Your what?”



Day 1

As it turned out, Keke did want to be in his harem. By the time Matt slept with the seventh catgirl in Junonia, Keke caved and agreed to join his Party. Well, ‘Party’ was her word, it was definitely a harem.

The best part was with Keke came Cannoli. A healer. Though, it wasn’t like Matt needed a healer. The Quest from the iPaw to sleep with catgirls was worth so much Experience and Bells that Espada had already upgraded his armor and weapon.

Just a few cleaved minotaurs, a few more bedded catgirls, and he was already Level 5.

“You said I could change Class at Level 10, right?” Matt asked at Keke’s dining table.

Cannoli hummed while she stirred a pot of something that smelled delicious.

“That’s right,” Keke said. “But, Matt, maybe you should slow down. You’ve only been here for a day.”

“Nah. My [Energy] is still full. Says so right here.” He pointed at the iPaw, then sniffed the air. “Cannoli, your soup could use more pepper.”

Cannoli’s tail shot straight up into the air, and she froze. An angry squeak preluded her coughing into her hand, then nodded. “Of course, Matt. More pepper.”

Why were these girls so sensitive? It was soup meant to feed a champion. It had to be perfect, just like everything else.



Day 10

“Alright, I’m ready to change to Third Class,” Matt announced proudly.

Keke and Cannoli were sprawled across the couch. Keke had one arm thrown over her face, and Cannoli was curled on her side with her eyes closed. Neither of them responded.

“Mou ii. Great. You rushed us to Third Class.” Ravyn awarded him with a slow clap. She sat in one of Cannoli’s dining chairs with her foot flat against the table leg, rocking her back to just two limbs of her chair. “Now would you let us fucking rest?”

Matt laughed. “Your [Energy] is fine. C’mon, I slept with ten girls today already. We can work on our [Fishing] or [Crafting].”

Ravyn made a gagging noise and let her foot drop. The chair fell forward with a slam!

“Defiled!” Cannoli squealed, wildly waving her arms as she shot up from her nap.

Keke remained asleep, seemingly unfazed.

“That’s a great idea, Cannoli,” Matt replied.

“Baka!”

“Matt’s a fucking idiot! Squaawk!” Ravyn’s blue hellkite, Ball Gag, screamed from the window.

“Let’s go. I want to test out [Paladin].” Matt rolled his sculpted arms and marched out of the house.



Day 30

Matt was ashamed to admit that it had taken him a full month to reach the Level Cap. But in that time, he’d single-handedly discovered and implemented a way to solve San Island’s economic crises, defeated that bastard Cailu for the Queen of Nyarlea’s hand, cleaned the Defiled from Shi Island, and forced Magni to change his ways on Ichi Island.

That still didn’t excuse his delay.

However, as he stood inside the highest tower of the castle and looked over the city of Ronona, he couldn’t help but wonder…

…Just what exactly was left for him to do?



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Chapter 252: The Mistress Always Spanks Twice

Ravyn barely managed to eat a few bites of her breakfast before more knots tied her stomach, and her fingers turned cold. Emberlynn rubbed her pointer finger and thumb against a small garnet. A brief glow emanated from the stone, and the doors at the end of the room opened.

“You called, Mistress Emberlynn?” a woman asked.

Emberlynn gestured to the plates. “Yes. We are finished with breakfast.”

The woman offered a curt bow, and as Tristan made to speak, Emberlynn silenced him with an extended finger.

Mother never did fear the men or their power.

Once the plates were cleared from the table and the servant was gone, the tense air returned. Emberlynn coughed into her handkerchief before continuing. “How would you change things regarding the kitten situation?”

Tristan visibly swallowed. “It is my firm belief that if the nyannies were offered a higher wage, then the nyannies, and by extension the children, would become better educated and less inclined to steal.”

“What would that wage look like?’

Damn it. I don’t think he knows the value of a Bell. Ravyn worked her jaw in silence.

“A direct percentile of the guard’s wages. As Melody’s book suggested, the guards make a substantial profit protecting Shulan when compared to other jobs in the city.” Tristan gestured animatedly with his hand, keeping a steady tone. “In my mind, the nyannies train the catgirls who will eventually come to power on the island. Thus, it would make sense that the wages of nyannies would match, if not surpass, the wages of guards in their entirety. Does this sound reasonable to you?”

Ravyn fought back the frown that was coming on. Somehow the boy had managed to avoid displaying ignorance of the Bell’s value while simultaneously presenting a plausible wage for the nyannies.

“The wages I saw,” Tristan continued, “were—and forgive me for my forwardness—unacceptable. Nyannies are essential in caring for and teaching our children, arming them for the harsh realities of the world, understanding the role of the men, ensuring they live full lives when they leave.”

“There are schools of study that take some of that burden away from nyannies, Tristan,” Emberlynn countered.

“You’re correct. However, from what I’ve read, the schools on nearly every island only accept students once they’ve attained the ability to change into their [Combat Mode]s. That’s still a little over a decade of interactions and education with nyannies.”

Emberlynn paused. She studied Tristan, then asked, “Is the rising Defiled threat not on your agenda of concerns?”

Shit.

Tristan furrowed his brow. “I was under the assumption that Cailu kept San Island clear of major Defiled threats.”

“He keeps Shulan maintained, yes. But the Bells that go to our guard also protect smaller towns and cities. Cities like Zhuli. I’m certain you understand that Cailu’s time is quite torn between here and Nyarlothep.”

“I’m aware. Forgive me, Emberlynn, I fail to see how this concerns nyannies.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Our nyannies will lack for work if their kittens are dead.”

Tristan flushed a brilliant red.

“But you’re paying the guard a fortune! All Tristan’s asking is to make it fair!” Destiny said suddenly. As soon as the words left her lips, she placed a hand over her mouth as if she’d spoken out of turn.

You’ve given her the edge. Tristan needs to lead the conversation.

“Would you not request a high sum if you put your life on the line each day for your island, Destiny?” Emberlynn said sharply. “Compared to the nyannies who live in comfort and pleasure with their kittens? Less funding to our protectors means far fewer kittens. And our island is always in need of protection.”

“Pardon me,” Tristan said, raising his hand. Emberlynn stopped and regarded him with a single raised brow. “But could you please explain to me where all of this money is coming from?”

“Taxes, of course. Surely you noted such in Melody’s book,” Emberlynn replied.

Tristan nodded. “Yes, but the amounts were consistently uneven from similar earnings. I couldn’t deduce a steady percentage or stable fee.”

“Ah, yes. Businesses and their owners are welcome to make a suitable donation to San Island. All collected Bells are pooled into a conglomerate account that, in turn, funds our roads, wages, schools, defense, nyannies, and other necessary ventures.”

“Is there a benefit to these donations?” Tristan tapped a finger against the table in thought.

“Of course. They are recorded in Melody’s books, and those who donate are offered a multitude of benefits for their businesses. Premier placement, city sponsorships, priority repairs, and greater loan opportunities.”

So much roach shit. To Ravyn, the system had always seemed like a fancy ribbon on ‘bribery.’ But it was what her mother was best at. Tying filthy truths in pretty paper.

“Loans?” Tristan asked.

“Yes,” Emberlynn said. Ravyn noted the red that crept up Emberlynn’s thin neck; she was losing her patience. “A substantial amount of the Bells received in taxes and donations goes toward loans. Many of the catgirls in Shulan dream of opening their own shop.”

Tristan rubbed his chin, his expression pensive.

Is it starting to make more sense now, Tristan?

“I think I’m beginning to see some of the more glaring issues at hand,” Tristan admitted.

“Could some of the donations, even just a few, go to the nyannies instead?” Lara suggested.

“The guard has grown accustomed to multiple bonuses throughout the years of their service. To take it away could be the death of us all.” Emberlynn sighed.

“What if you offered businesses benefits for larger donations to nyannies? Then put those aside just for them?” Tristan suggested.

“You don’t truly believe that these businesses will add on to their donations, will you?” Emberlynn smirked. “They will give the same amount of Bells and claim it is for a new cause.”

“Could you raise the taxes?” Tristan asked.

Emberlynn’s smirk grew wider, and the garnet poked deeper into her fingers.

Stop, Tristan. You’re passing her the win here.

“Oh. Forget I said that, then,” Tristan quickly added. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling.

If it’s not one thing, then it’s the other.

Ravyn knew of the issues that plagued San Island—Shulan most of all. Explaining all of its intricate politics and market schemes could be an entire lifetime’s worth of study. Despite being a native, even she wasn’t privy to some of its darkest underbellies.

“Even so, Mother,” Ravyn said, crossing her arms, “the nyannies have to receive a higher wage. We need to resolve that issue somehow.”

Emberlynn maintained her eerie smile. Ravyn loathed to say it, but she was still her mother’s daughter. She was no stranger to this brand of table talk.

“I’d like to clarify what we’ve discussed so far,” Tristan said as if he’d just come out of a reverie. “The island’s financial pool is made up of taxes and donations from the businesses in each city, do I understand that correctly?”

Emberlynn nodded. “Yes. That is correct.”

“Then that pool is used to pay for anything the city may need.” Tristan maintained a direct stare at the table. Ravyn noticed he did that whenever he repeated things for confirmation. He paused, then looked up at Emberlynn. “So, that pool somehow needs to be adjusted to accommodate more nyannies to help the homeless kittens.”

“Tristan, even if we increased the wages for the current nyannies in Shulan, they have all taken on as many kittens as they can.” The red in Emberlynn’s neck crested her chin. “Do you expect that hiring one or two more nyannies, then wrangling the city’s worth of kittens into an empty building will help the current state of pickpockets?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Tristan said. “I came from a city that suffered from many similar problems, so I’m no stranger to children wandering the streets. By the time I left…” He shook his head. “My apologies. It’s just that I understand what it’s like to scavenge through trash cans and streets in search of food and shelter. Every day, I hoped someone would offer me their support. I needed someone to take my hand and tell me everything was going to be okay.”

A brief silence swept over the room.

Just what the hell happened to you, Tristan?

“The pool struggles to maintain order and cleanliness as it is,” Emberlynn said, crossing her hands on the table and perching her chin. “Increasing the wages for nyannies means taking wages away from another group. Do you not understand that?”

Tristan paused. “I’m aware. I’m hoping to find another solution.”

“Oh? Like increasing the fees for business owners? Sell them the story that their funds are going toward a better future? Toward the children? Toward the ones who historically pocketed the very funds they so graciously gave?”

“Mother,” Ravyn said sharply, “don’t put words in his mouth.”

“He was the one to suggest raising taxes, Ravyn.” Emberlynn glared at Ravyn.

“He’s willing to find a compromise. Are you?” Ravyn held her stare. Mother or not, she had no right to talk to Tristan like that. He was dealt an unfair hand from the cunt of all cunts. She wasn’t about to let her mother soil his attempts at building a better San Island.

“A compromise? All I see is a boy stepping in to lay ruin to our island,” Emberlynn said, redirecting her gaze to Tristan.

Tristan’s fingers curled as he rocked his jaw side to side. The longer he went without an answer, the more true Emberlynn’s declaration would become.

“If we were to invite nyannies with proper backgrounds from Shi—” Destiny started.

“Then we take potential work away from the natives,” Emberlynn countered. “As a Shi Island maid, I am sure I do not need to remind you of the tense rivalry between our islands.” When Lara opened her mouth, Emberlynn spoke louder. “Ichi Island can barely take care of itself, and Ni Island is little more than a sabbatical retreat. No thanks to any of the men. So where would you suggest we find these nyannies with such impressive backgrounds?”

Ravyn felt her blood boil. “Ni Island’s man is doing everything he can. You would do well to refrain from such statements, Mother. Such venom-laced words are unbecoming of you.”

“You are right, of course. At least not all of the men are useless.”

Don’t. Say. Anything. Refrain.

“Cailu’s a cunt! Squaaawwwk!” Bally recited.

Emberlynn looked absolutely horrified by the bird’s statement. Ravyn did a little victory dance in her head.

“Silence that thing’s repulsive mouth,” Emberlynn snapped.

Ravyn felt her mouth curve into a smile against her will. “Ball Gag?” She made sure to mention his entire name just to horrify her mother further. Emberlynn’s expression said she’d done a great job so far. “Can you please be quiet for the remainder of our—” and she paused to look at Emberlynn, “—delicate discussion?”

Bally nodded enthusiastically.

“Good Ball Gag,” Ravyn praised, tapping him on the beak.

Tristan cleared his throat. “I am of the belief that trust is the most difficult thing to obtain from a person, and I understand the rivalry and your feelings on the other islands. And I understand the events that you believe would follow.”

“Tristan—” Destiny started.

Tristan shook his head and raised a hand. “However, San Island, more than any, is a city founded on trade and wealth. When does a catgirl become a native to San Island? If you will pardon my bluntness, San Island has the fewest natives of any land in Nyarlea.”

“Which is exactly why—” Emberlynn said.

“Please,” Tristan continued, “allow me to finish.”

Ravyn covered the side of her face closest to Emberlynn and grinned.

“It would be wise to remind the citizens that as many catgirls come in as they come out. Shulan—and San Island, to be quite truthful—are bastions that promise a lifetime of wealth if one is savvy enough with their business decisions. Every catgirl I have ever spoken to knows this. I spent my first years in a room, and even I know that.”

Emberlynn mulled over the boy’s words. “Say we do as you suggest and hire nyannies from other islands to assist us. There is still the issue of wages. Education and child-rearing are not cheap ventures. Pay will have to be cut from somewhere.”

“I agree with you. But after personally witnessing the hardships of many of Shi and Ichi Island’s residents, I can assure you that you would be able to strike a deal that would work in both of your favor. If you offered those desiring to become nyannies a solid roof over their heads, food on their tables, and the means to care for the kittens, no additional wages would be required.”

Catania… Ravyn hadn’t wanted to spend a single day more in that hole. Surely there were others who agreed with her.

Emberlynn laughed. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“It’s an offer we readily accepted,” Destiny said quietly. “There are many from Leche and Anyona who dream of such an opportunity.”

“You can offer the same setup to the people of San Island,” Tristan suggested. He continued before Emberlynn could counter. “That way, they won’t feel as if you’d looked over them for jobs.”

“There will be those who try to take advantage,” Emberlynn said.

Like you, Mother.

“Then have them supervised. Check in with their kittens to see how things are going. Surely a few of the guards can add their houses to their routes?” Tristan perched his elbows on the armrests of his chair.

“This could work,” Emberlynn said. “However, there are an overwhelming number of kittens gallivanting about—many near adulthood. I do not believe we have enough residential buildings to offer the nyannies nor the guards for the routes.”

“What about offering new nyannies in some of the smaller cities?” Tristan exhaled through his nose and leaned on one arm. “None of the children enjoy living the way they do. That, I can promise you.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Ravyn said. “I’ve seen how some of them look. Some of them definitely enjoy the life they live. They’ve grown into it.”

“Uhm.” Lara raised her hand. “I have an idea.”

 

Chapter 253: The Lives of Others

Muzhira’s sanguine stare rested on Cannoli for the duration of their breakfast and then into the brief overview of day-to-day life in the temple. Cannoli squirmed beneath that gaze, fighting to keep her attention on Sahzi and the other initiates while hoping she was simply imagining the intense anger that lingered just beneath the surface of Muzhira’s expression.

“Before your study period, your measurements will be taken for a set of white robes,” Sahzi explained as they walked back to the dorms. Her and the initiates walked with silent steps while Cannoli’s feet fell to the ground like a hammer on a forge. “These robes will follow you on your path, gaining ornamentation only when deserved.”

“M-may I ask a question?” Cannoli stammered. She shivered when Muzhira’s lips curled into a sneer.

Sahzi nodded. “Of course, child.”

“What’s the difference between earning sapphires and robe ornamentation?”

“A very observant question, Cannoli. Your robes will improve when your tutors deem you ready to advance to the next area of study. Sapphires may be given out at any time by anyone should you show a deep understanding of Saoirse’s ways.”

“I believe it is important to note that sapphires can be taken away,” Muzhira chimed in.

“That is correct, Muzhira. While your robes will never lose their adornments, should you display behavior unbefitting of an [Acolyte], your tutors or the prophets themselves can reclaim your sapphires.”

Cannoli’s anxiety must have been plain to see because Rozalyn touched her shoulder and quickly whispered, “That never happens.”

A tiny bit of tension eased from her shoulders, and Cannoli took a deep breath. “I would like to confirm what is expected of me from this day forward, Sister Sahzi, if I may.”

“By all means.” She paused outside the dormitories, and they fanned out around her.

Cannoli squared her shoulders. There was so much to remember for just her first day! But she was determined to prove that she was right where she belonged. “After my measurements this afternoon, my first instructor will be Sister Cecilia in the library. Then, there is an hour of prayer inside the sanctuary, and the four of us will go to the kitchens to help prepare dinner. Next, I will report to Sister Madeleine in the observatory for my evening lesson, followed by one more hour of prayer, and then it is curfew.”

“Yes, you have it exactly right.” Sahzi nodded her approval. “Tomorrow will be the same; however, you will have your morning class with Sister Allegra, and an hour of prayer will follow. Higher initiates will prepare breakfast and lunch; you are only responsible for assisting with dinner.”

Cora’s hands twitched behind her back, and she shifted her weight between her tiny feet. In Cannoli’s eyes, she was still a kitten. It was a miracle that the poor thing could stand still for so long.

“Thank you very much, Sister Sahzi. I think I’m okay from here,” Cannoli said earnestly—Cora was going to burst if she had to stay there much longer.

“Excellent. Please do not hesitate to ask me, your peers, or your teachers should you need guidance.” Sahzi bowed. “We walk our paths together, children. Never forget that.”

“Saoirse be with us,” Cora, Rozalyn, and Muzhira said in unison as they bowed. Cannoli joined them in haste, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she bent forward.

Sahzi glided away as if her feet never touched the ground and left Cannoli alone with her fellow initiates. Cora rushed into the dorms without another word, her tail flicking back and forth with pent-up energy. Muzhira took a step forward, but Rozalyn was faster, sidestepping toward Cannoli and cutting Muzhira off.

“Shall I show you to the dressing room, Cannoli?” Rozalyn grinned.

“That would be wonderful. Yes, please.” Cannoli’s heart raced when Muzhira’s face darkened behind Rozalyn’s shoulder.

“Perfect!” Rozalyn grabbed Cannoli’s hand and tugged. “This way!”

Muzhira watched them go before vanishing behind the dorm room’s door.

“You okay?” Rozalyn whispered once they were out of earshot.

“I think so,” Cannoli replied. Her fingers trembled in Rozalyn’s grasp. “Is Muzhira always, well, like this?”

“Honestly, I’ve never seen her in such a mood before,” Rozalyn murmured. “Did she say anything to you?”

Cannoli chewed the inside of her cheek. Was it safe to tell Rozalyn what had happened on Ichi Island? Was it safe to tell anyone? Ever since Matt decided to let Yomi go free and continue his quest to unite the men, the world felt off balance. This was not the same Nyarlea of Cannoli’s or Rozalyn’s mothers or grandmothers. Too much was changing too quickly. “I think she said I look familiar.”

“I heard that. I meant anything else,” Rozalyn said.

No. It wasn’t safe. Cannoli knew nothing about Rozalyn, and spreading how Magni died could only make Muzhira’s intentions worse. “N-no. That was all.”

“Hmm.” Rozalyn released Cannoli’s hand. “Well, I’ll keep my ears low and tell you if she says anything.”

“That’s very kind of you, Rozalyn, thank you.” Desperately searching for a change of topic, Cannoli continued, “Where are you from?”

“Born and raised in Dreake, all the way on the other side of Nyarlothep.” She made a wide swoop of her arm. “My mother was a [Bishop], and this is always what she wanted for me. So, here I am. What about you?”

“I’m from Junonia on Ni Island. My mother was a [Bishop], too. But—” Four tiny legs skittered from her pocket and scrambled to her shoulder.

Rozalyn gasped. “Goodness! Is that a blazard?”

“Buttons! Yes!” Cannoli giggled and swept him into her hands. “Were you sleeping this whole time?”

Buttons yawned, then sneezed a puff of smoke.

“He’s so cute!” Rozalyn squealed, then lowered her voice and cupped her hands over Cannoli’s. “But we’re not supposed to have Encroachers in the temple. Not even familiars. They’re really strict about it.”

Cannoli’s heart sank. Buttons had been with her through everything. When no one else listened, she could always depend on her little blazard. She couldn’t just leave him outside—the thought alone brought tears to her eyes. Buttons alone in the dark, searching for peanuts, wondering where Cannoli went.

“Aw, hey, no. Don’t cry.” Rozalyn touched her shoulder. She bit her lower lip and huffed a long breath of air through her nose. “Okay. Let me take him for now. Get your measurements, and I’ll…well, I’ll show you when you’re done.”

Cannoli looked from Buttons to Rozalyn. The only people she’d ever trusted him with was her Party. Buttons looked up at her and tilted his head. But the alternative sounded too painful. “Alright.” She raised her hands. “Go with Rozalyn, Buttons. I’ll see you soon.”

Buttons crawled into Rozalyn’s hands with timid steps. She opened the panel of her white robes and ushered him into an inside pocket. “In you go, little guy. You’ll be safe with me.” Buttons slid inside, and his outline settled into a comfortable blob.

“Please be careful with him,” Cannoli said. She’d tried her best to hold back—she didn’t want it to seem like she suspected Rozalyn of harming Buttons. But he meant so much to her…

“My mother hated it, but I used to keep a lot of Encroacher pets growing up. He’ll be safe and very happy. You’ll see.” Rozalyn closed her robe. “Now, let’s get you to the dressing room before they send someone to find you.”

They hurried to the dressing room, where a young woman with curled brunette hair and silver eyes ushered Cannoli onto a square platform. Rozalyn bowed and left them together, taking Buttons with her. Cannoli did her best to even her breathing and offer calm answers to the tailor, raising her arms and lifting her tail when asked.

In just under an hour, Cannoli was fitted with her first robes of Saoirse. The belled sleeves hung loose on her wrists, and yards of smooth white satin flowed around her ankles. It was a beautiful garment—one the tailor promised Cannoli would receive two copies of very soon. Apparently, tending to their robes was a careful practice done by all of Saoirse’s initiates every three days.

Cannoli thanked the tailor for her help, having already forgotten the sister’s name as she rushed to find Rozalyn. Cannoli was relieved to find her without Cora and Muzhira in the dorm room.

“You look wonderful in your robe,” Rozalyn greeted her. “And Buttons is happy and safe.”

“May I see him?” Cannoli asked, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate.

“Yes. However, Cannoli, if you want to return to him in the future, we must go together. Understand?”

Cannoli nodded and clasped her hands at her chest. “Of course.”

Rozalyn led the way through the grand halls, and Cannoli didn’t bother to mask her footsteps. Not feeling Buttons’s familiar wriggles and breathing in her robes was like having the wind knocked out of her. She had to know that he was okay.

They passed through rooms filled with linens, then food supplies, and then areas with boxes upon boxes of unlabeled contents. At last, Rozalyn turned through a shadowed door in a dusty, neglected storage room. It opened into a narrow hallway with oil lamps every ten steps or so near the ceiling.

“What is this place?” Cannoli murmured.

“I’ve heard a lot of rumors, but I’m not entirely sure.” Rozalyn traced the wall’s dark stone with her fingertips. “The important part is that no one comes in here.”

“Who lights the lamps?” Cannoli wondered.

“They’re Enchanted. I don’t think even the temple’s servants come here.”

“O-oh. I see.” The hairs on Cannoli’s arms stood on end, and she suddenly felt very cold. It reminded her of the underground tunnels in Anyona. As they continued deeper, her uneasiness grew worse as she imagined Buttons in such a dreary hallway.

“In here.” Rozalyn came to another unmarked door. She fished a key from the pocket of her robe and slid it inside the lock.

“You have a key?”

“Yeah. I found it in the lock.” Rozalyn giggled. “It makes you wonder, right?”

“Hm.”

The door loosened with a soft click, and Rozalyn ushered them both inside.

To Cannoli’s immense surprise, the room she stepped into was nothing like the hallway. Shelves of dusty tomes, empty bottles, and [Alchemy] equipment lined the walls. A rectangular window welcomed the early afternoon sun inside, illuminating a handful of thriving potted plants with long branches and tiny leaves—ivy, Cannoli thought. There was a large blue rug with gold embellishments splayed across the floor, and a single leather chair stood stalwart at a writing desk. The room was warm and inviting, made merrier by a small, crackling fire inside a golden hearth.

Rozalyn touched the chair and peered out the window. Without looking at Cannoli, she said, “This is kind of my secret hideout. For when I just need some time to myself.” She ran a hand through her hair and licked her lips. “I’ve…never shown it to anyone before.”

“This is really amazing, Rozalyn,” Cannoli marveled. “I haven’t had a hideout since I was a kitten. But, well, why tell me?”

“Because….here. Look. They’re right down here.” Rozalyn knelt at one of the shelves and pulled away a sheet riddled with holes.

“‘They?’” Cannoli asked, kneeling beside her.

“Mhm.” Behind the blanket, Buttons lay curled, sleeping soundly beside a bright pink copy of himself. A soft blanket and little baskets of food surrounded them on either side. “Buttons and Freckles.”

Cannoli gaped. “You have a blazard, too!”

“I’ve never met anyone else who keeps a blazard as a pet.” Rozalyn stroked Freckles’s speckled face with delicate fingers. “Maybe it’s the work of Saoirse, but I think we’re meant to walk our paths together, Cannoli.”

Cannoli’s chest and heart warmed. She didn’t have to do this alone. Rozalyn was a kind person, and it was clear that Freckles was well taken care of. If Cannoli didn’t know anything else about Rozalyn, that was enough. “Thank you, Rozalyn.”

“You’re welcome. But like I said, I keep the key on me at all times. If you want to visit him, just ask. I’ll make sure they’re both fed and warm in the meantime.”

“It’s a deal.” Cannoli grinned and stood, dusting off the knees of her new white robe. She glanced over the discarded books on a nearby shelf, and curiosity got the best of her. “Let’s see here.” She pulled one away and brushed her hand over the cover. The title perplexed her, and she replaced it in favor of another book. The subject was the same. “Rozalyn?”

“Hm?” Rozalyn carefully repositioned the sheet over the blazards and stood to join Cannoli.

“What’s a [Magistrate]?”

“Certainly not the concern of two fledgling initiates,” an authoritative voice snapped behind them.

Cannoli’s heart skipped. She and Rozalyn spun to find a golden-robed sister with sapphires glittering in her yellow hair. Beside her stood Muzhira with a knowing smile on her face.

 

Chapter 254: Demons

Lara felt the anxiety in her chest swell to a size she’d never experienced before. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything at all. The sheer curve of Emberlynn’s brow was enough to send her running with her tail between her legs.

“And what would you suggest?” Emberlynn asked, her sharp eyes befitting of a diplomat.

“Answer her!” Wind exclaimed.

Lara blinked, nearly losing the thought as quickly as it had come. “W-what if we exported—er, transported the older girls to the Venicia School of Etiquette?” She swallowed when Emberlynn said nothing. “It would be a fine way to bridge the tense relationships between our islands and form unity in a way that, uh, makes things good for both sides.”

Tristan tilted his head as he observed her and pinched his chin. “That…could work. What say you, Madame Emberlynn?”

Emberlynn drummed her fingers against the table, sticking her nose in the air as she regarded Lara. “So, you would suggest that we take the ones who are beyond hope and ship them away to Shi Island against their will?”

Lara had the distinct feeling that everything was a contest to Emberlynn. Answering questions with questions, poking holes through the logic of one’s suggestion, offering snide snickers when the answers desired weren’t the ones she was looking for. Lara’s mind was much too slow for this pace of conversation, and so she clammed up, unable to provide a counterpoint.

“This is a game to her,” Fire said, chuckling. “She is brimming with passion.”

Lara gathered that much, but she struggled to understand the conversation. It seemed as if Emberlynn enjoyed watching them struggle to find solutions for a problem she implied may not even exist. How Tristan could do it, she had no idea.

“They’re not considered adults yet, are they?” Tristan asked.

Emberlynn offered the slightest hint of a smile. “Strictly speaking, no. They are not.”

“I think Tristan has the edge,” Wind said. She turned into a fluorescent green ribbon, then wrapped herself around Tristan’s neck. Tristan rubbed the section Wind had covered, and Wind giggled. “He can tell something is different about his neck! What a smart boy! And cute!”

Lara blushed. “Wind, stop that,” she said in what could barely count as a whisper. Being an Element of information, Wind could hear things to much greater degrees than any of the Elements. She was also more playful and a bit of a trickster, which always left Lara a little uneasy. Girls at the school were quick to assume that Lara was up to no good whenever something strange happened around her.

“Then, would they not have any rights?” Tristan asked. “From what I understand of the books I’ve read, many catgirls do not acquire their first Class until they are fifteen years of age. Many of the girls will be younger than that, and as far as I understand it, acquiring a Class is how society deems one as an adult. I agree with Lara that enlisting them in the Venicia School of Etiquette would be a fine way to alleviate the pressure from the existing nyannies on San Island.”

Emberlynn studied him in silence for some time. “Allow me to summarize,” she said at last. “We will strike a bargain with the other islands—preferably Shi Island, due to its extensive experience in child-rearing—and offer food and a roof over one’s head in exchange for their experience.” When Tristan nodded, Emberylnn continued. “Those who are too old for a nanny or are nearing adulthood will be corralled and shipped off to the school. Do I understand this correctly?”

“I wouldn’t use such a brash term,” Tristan said, “but you have the right of it.”

“I see.” Emberlynn straightened her posture. “You understand that I cannot make this decision on my own. I am but one woman amongst a plethora of cities on San Island.” She rotated the large ring on her pinky finger. “I could offer you my vote, but it will hold little sway. Zhuli has no need for extra nyannies, income, or guards.”

“Don’t undermine your power, Mother,” Ravyn hissed.

Emberlynn studied her in silence.

Lara wondered if speaking with those in the other cities would be necessary. She now had her answer.

“She’s playing around with us!” Wind exclaimed angrily.

Earth hummed beneath Lara’s feet, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. “Where there are Bells, there are enemies.” He chuckled a slow and hearty chuckle. “How amusing.”

“Get lost, braggart,” Fire said.

Lara shook her head, focusing on the distant sounds of Tristan and Emberlynn’s voices. The Elements were loud, and their voices did not simply reach her ears but punctured her skull anytime they spoke. Sifting through the noise was difficult, but eventually, she managed after hissing a silent request for them to quiet.

“Then we must speak with Melody and the others,” Tristan said. “Can outside cities overturn the policies of another?”

Emberlynn shook her head. “Not in most cases. There has to be clear sabotage or ill intent behind the leading body. Melody would have to be found convicted of a crime warranting said change. Alternatively, policies can be overturned in exceptional circumstances. However, this will require the outside cities to provide an explanation as to why their policies are damaging to San Island as a whole.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I know that an island’s man can overturn a ruling with two natives present,” Tristan countered. “I was forced to do so on Shi Island.”

“Shi Island’s population is far smaller than San’s, and you will be hard-pressed to find two high-ranking natives that will agree to this.”

“I wasn’t aware ranking had anything to do with it.”

Emberlynn smiled. “Ranking has everything to do with it. Otherwise, you risk uprisings in the island’s many cities. Something Cailu is well aware of.”

This is impossible, Lara thought.

Cailu had fitted Master Tristan with an impossible task. The island flourished on its promise of a better life, and to suggest that those in power had been doing it wrong was no doubt a quick way to get exiled.

“You must tread carefully, Tristan,” Emberlynn warned with an extended finger. “You were wise to come here first. The women who lead these cities are amongst the best in Nyarlea. They know every loophole in Nyalean law, every trick, and as I am sure Ravyn has told you, only the best spellcasters emerge from San Island.” She shook her head. “Never offer your trust. Only your cooperation.”

“Mother, that’s—” Ravyn started.

“The truth. And you know it.”

Ravyn bowed her head, her expression dark.

“I’m sorry. I must excuse myself,” Destiny suddenly said, quickly standing up from her chair, the legs screeching against the floor.

“Destiny? Are you all right?” Tristan asked, his brow furrowed.

Destiny didn’t respond. She rounded the table, easily evading Lara’s grasp when she reached for her sister’s arm. Tristan called for her again, standing from his own seat. Destiny ignored him, then left through the door, shutting it behind her.

“Destiny?” Tristan said, his mouth agape.

“Tristan,” Ravyn said, grabbing his attention. She shook her head, and with obvious reluctance, he sat back down and adjusted his spot at the table.

“I’m sorry.”

Emberlynn eyed him. “Do not apologize for the actions of another. You expressed concern in her sudden desire to leave. That is understandable.”

“She’s not okay,” Wind said with a hint of concern in her voice. “Her thoughts are muddled.”

As far as Lara knew, Wind could not hear a person's thoughts. There had been times when Lara could communicate with the Elements through telepathy, but as far as she understood, that was a rare symptom she had yet to find the cause for.

“How do you know?” Lara asked quietly.

“I just do. I have a sense for these things.”

Wind would not go see to Destiny for Lara. Despite their closeness, Wind was a selfish Element and went wherever she pleased. Unless Lara demanded it in a Spell or Wind found something amusing, Wind would stay by her side.

“Can you watch her for a little bit?” Lara pleaded.

Wind shook her head. “No, I want to see what’s happening here.”

Lara sighed, then stood up from her chair next. “My apologies,” she said, bowing at the waist. “But she’s my sister, and I want to make sure she’s feeling all right. Please continue without me.”

Emberlynn cocked a brow. Irritated with her disrespect, no doubt. Celestia had said hundreds of times how disrespectful Lara was, so this was a typical reaction. Lara pushed her chair against the table, taking great care not to scrape the floor like Destiny had earlier. The room went silent as Emberlynn, Tristan, Ravyn, and even Ravyn’s parrot familiar eyed her as she left.

Lara caught the tip of Destiny’s tail disappearing around a corner downstairs. She kept her hand on the railing as she descended the steps, nearly falling over when the tip of her foot caught one of the holes in the rug. She yelped, catching her footing, and readjusted her attire before continuing after her sister.

When she reached the hallway, Destiny was nowhere to be seen. One of the servants exited the room to her right, and she approached.

“Excuse me, but have you seen my sister, Destiny?” Lara asked. “Short hair, wears a dress like mine?”

The servant shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen anyone like that.”

Lara nodded and took to the room on her immediate left. Maybe she’d find her in one of the common rooms. As she entered the enormous room, a pair of women were talking gleefully over cups of tea. As soon as they saw Lara, they gasped and shot to their feet.

“I-I’m sorry! Is there anything we can do to help you?” the one on the left asked.

Lara shook her head, ran past them, then stopped to turn around. “Yes! Actually!”

“Yes?” they exclaimed in unison.

“Have you seen a girl with short hair and a dress like mine come by here?”

The girls pointed down the hallway to Lara’s left.

“Thank you!” She waved her appreciation, then strode down the hall on the balls of her feet, bobbing side to side. Rooms flanked her sides, and as she drew close to a room on her right, she stopped when she heard a strange noise. “What is that?” she whispered, leaning in with one fluffy ear. “Sister?”

Lara tried the handle but found that it was locked. She knocked on the door, and the noise halted. “Destiny, is that you?” Lara asked.

No response.

She tried the knob again, but no matter how hard she pulled, the lock held firm.

Earth appeared beside her in the shape of a man’s torso. His body was covered in red and gold—he liked to match the decor of the environment most of the time—and he wore a large grin. “Need some help?” the proud Element asked.

“Please?” Lara said with her hands clasped. “Can you help me get in?”

Earth raised one chunky hand toward the handle. A series of clicks followed, and the Element lowered his hand. “It is done.”

“Thank you, Earth!”

“Mm.”

Lara drew a deep breath, put her hand on the knob, then turned. As she pushed the door open, she found the room dark. The curtains were drawn, offering minimal rays of light to guide her path. Even so, she could recognize Destiny’s silhouette a mile away. She sat in a corner, her hands wrapped around her knees. Her quiet sobs filled the room, so Lara approached and sat in front of her sister, dress firmly beneath the knees, as was proper for a Shi Island maid.

“Destiny,” Lara whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m u-useless,” Destiny stammered. “So…so damn useless. I couldn’t help him at all. I understood nothing.”

Lara blinked. “Sister, I—”

“I want to be helpful. I want to do anything.”

Lara touched Destiny’s shoulder. Wind danced in a ribbon beneath Destiny’s chin, collecting the tears that fell free.

“You staying at Tristan’s side is what he needs most right now,” Lara assured her. “I’m sure this is just as hard for him.”

“He’s not Ravyn, that’s for sure,” Fire said, flickering in a nearby oil lamp.

“Not now,” Lara hissed.

“Celestia never should have let me out of that room. Everything would be better if I just wasn’t here.” Destiny relaxed her legs and rested her head on Lara’s shoulder.

Lara stroked her sister’s hair, fighting back her own tears. “That’s not true, Destiny. I don’t want a world without you. And I know Tristan feels the same way.” She stole a long, deep breath, then said, “If you want to go home, we’ll go home.”

Destiny’s sobs against Lara’s shoulder muffled her reply.

Lara held her close and let her cry. No matter what Destiny decided, Lara would always be by her side.

 

A note from DoubleBlind:

A huge thank you to my new Patron, Bilman!

--​

Chapter 255: Inventing the Girl

Cannoli’s heart hammered against her chest. She wanted so badly to look behind her and make sure that Buttons and Freckles went unseen. That the blanket hiding them hadn’t moved. But even the tiniest glance could mean their capture—if Muzhira hadn’t spotted the blazards already.

“S-Sister Cecilia,” Rozalyn stammered, then bowed deeply. “My apologies.”

Sister Cecilia had blue hair the color of the sky that tumbled over the dazzling white and gold of her robes. Dozens of sapphires sparkled from their tendrils, wrapped and twined in mindful placements where none touched the others. Her soft features would suggest a kind face, but her silver eyes glimmered with disappointment. She stood just as tall as Muzhira, and her slender ears and thick tail ended in white tufts of fur.

“Cannoli, you were late to your lesson on your first day,” Sister Cecilia chided. “This is unwise and a bleak look for your future.”

“I’m so sorry, Sister Cecilia! I think my nerves got the best of me.” Cannoli mirrored Rozalyn’s bow. Tears burned in the backs of her eyes, and she forced them down. I will not be a disappointment! “Rozalyn was very kind in showing me this room as a place to catch my breath.”

“There are correctly sanctioned areas of the temple for which you may regain composure, Cannoli. Rozalyn, in your three weeks of attendance, you should very well be accustomed to them by now.” Sister Cecilia’s voice lost its edge.

Cannoli caught her breath. They hadn’t seen the blazards. “I will familiarize myself with them immediately, Sister Cecilia. Outside of my lesson time, of course.” She rose, cautiously searching Cecilia’s face. The pink on the sister’s cheeks had vanished, and her eyes warmed.

“Pardon my interference, Sister Cecilia, but I’m certain I overheard them speaking of hiding something,” Muzhira said, pitching her tone toward curious innocence.

Cannoli’s heart skipped. She forced her features to stay blank. Muzhira had been following them in the shadows.

Rozalyn straightened. “Ourselves,” she replied. “It is as Cannoli says. Such a drastic change in our lives feels overwhelming at times. Not all of us have taken to our path as adeptly as you have, Muzhira.”

For a split second, Muzhira furrowed her brows and frowned. It vanished when Sister Cecilia turned to look at her.

“We are wasting valuable time, ladies. I would ask you to refrain from visiting this wing of the temple and utilizing acceptable resources in the future,” Cecilia instructed. “Now, Cannoli will come with me, and I trust you two will return to your studies?”

“Yes, Sister Cecilia,” Rozalyn and Muzhira replied in unison.

“Very good. Cannoli? If you will?”

“O-of course!” Cannoli skipped forward, forgetting her attempts to soften her steps. After the first two fell like boulders crashing into the ocean, she remembered herself and slowed. Now that Buttons was safe, she couldn’t let her excitement get the better of her.

Sister Cecilia smiled—a warm, genuine reaction that reached her eyes. “Let this be our first lesson.” She gestured to their feet as they entered the cool hallway. “Silent steps require a sound mind and prepared body. We must first be aware of our surroundings and steady our breathing.” Raising her hands to the height of her chest, Cecilia took a deep breath in, then slowly exhaled, lowering her hands with it. “We will walk as we breathe. Let us start there. Try to match your steps with mine.”

It sounded simple in practice, but Cannoli realized it required her to pay close attention to the cadence of her breathing alongside the timing of her steps, and that was outside of keeping up with Cecilia. She was so focused on the task that she didn’t see Rozalyn or Muzhira pass her. They reached the hallways and continued around the storage boxes. Cecilia was a patient teacher, offering tidbits of advice here and there, a much different approach to the streams of information Cannoli had seen in the Venicia School of Etiquette.

Cecilia stopped at the double doors to the library and raised a hand. “Very good, Cannoli. We will work on this first thing each afternoon.” She opened the doors and gestured for Cannoli to enter.

When Cannoli stepped across the threshold, her eyes widened, and her breath caught. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured.

Multiple shelves flanked by golden columns protruded from the walls, each housing six rows of polished wood and filled from edge to edge with books. The design continued to the second story, where smooth railings protected curious initiates from stepping over the edge. Painted murals of Saoirse and her masked prophets appeared in detailed circles on the ceiling, surrounded by ivory sculptures and gold filigree flecked with sapphires. The tiled floor featured floral mosaics among the alternating gold and white squares.

Inside the alcoves created by bookshelves were initiates poring over books and taking notes. Others with two thick tomes open seemed to be copying scripts and hymns. A few read for pleasure, curled up in a corner chair with their tails tucked around their ankles.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Cecilia asked.

“Yes. Oh my, yes. How many books are here?”

“Fifteen hundred. It is Nyarlea’s largest collection to date.”

Cannoli gaped. “This feels like a dream.” It seemed impossible to have so many books in one building. As a kitten, Mother returning home with a book was a cause for celebration. Cannoli had treasured her small collection of reading material and read them so many times that the ink was beginning to fade.

“Let us hope you feel the same way while you study.” A knowing smile twitched at the corners of Cecilia’s lips. “You will spend much time with these tomes.”

“I look forward to it,” Cannoli replied honestly.

“Good. Today, however, we must attune you to a weapon.” Sister Cecilia marched forward before Cannoli could ask what she meant.

Cannoli skipped to catch up, then focused again on her breathing and keeping time with Cecilia. Her steps had quieted just a little, but it was a start. They made their way to the back of the library, where Cecilia unlocked a white door with a key around her wrist. Cannoli moved inside, and Cecilia locked the door behind them.

“This is the armory,” Cecilia said. “You are only to come here with an instructor, regardless of whether your peer has found an errant key.” A hint of humor touched her words, but Cannoli blushed all the same. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cannoli said with a nod.

“Excellent. Over here, then.”

Cannoli crossed the circular room, noting the different weapons on the walls, the complicated sigils and diagrams sketched on aging pieces of parchment, and the Enchanted lamps that flickered to life as they passed.

“Please shift to [Combat Mode], Cannoli,” Cecilia instructed.

Cannoli recalled so long ago when she’d found so much joy in changing into her [Combat Mode]. The idea of saving her friends and helping her Party had made her truly feel magical. Matt and Keke had teased her, but she still loved turning the routine into a spectacle.

Now, changing into her offensive gear twisted her stomach. It meant something, or someone, was about to die. And there was nothing she could do about it.

“Cannoli?” Cecilia repeated.

“S-sorry. [Combat Mode].” Cannoli watched as the white robes vanished, replaced by the resplendent silks and satins Cailu had purchased for her. The gear was stunning, perfect, and beautiful. Cannoli still didn’t feel like she deserved a single piece of it.

A look of stunned surprise widened Cecilia’s eyes and mouth. “Where do you hail from, child?”

“Ni Island.” Cannoli’s blush deepend. “I’ve been with Matt— …with my island’s man since his birth. We were in a lot of fights, so San Island’s man, Cailu, bought us all armor.”

“They work together? The men?” Cecilia remarked.

“Well, Cailu’s trying to get them all to work together.” Cannoli’s stomach twisted. The duel between Cailu and Magni flashed in her mind’s eye. It felt blasphemous to say what they’d done out loud, especially inside of Saoirse’s temple. “Does…uniting the men go against Saoirse’s teachings, Sister Cecilia?”

“I see you carry difficult questions.” Cecilia observed Cannoli for a long time, eyes thoughtfully searching her face. “While there is not a set precedent for the men uniting, we will make it a lesson for another day. Can you summon your weapon for me?”

Cannoli did as Cecilia asked. Her armor may have been luxurious, but she wielded the same scepter she’d held since she could first access [Combat Mode].

Cecilia held out her hand, and Cannoli passed the scepter over for inspection. “Quite a dichotomy in quality.” Cecilia chuckled.

“I’ve never tried anything else,” Cannoli admitted. “I wouldn’t know what weapon to ask for.”

Cecilia nodded and turned toward the wall of weapons. “This Level of equipment is what I’m more accustomed to seeing from new initiates. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“You will still gain benefits for using a scepter if you so choose, but it is best to test them all and find what fits you. Your weapon serves as an extension of yourself and thus an extension of Saoirse.” Cecilia selected a hammer and held it across both hands in a display. “Hammers will grant you great Strength and fortitude. They are an excellent choice for those seeking the best protection for themselves or those who journey alone.” She passed it to Cannoli.

Cannoli accepted the handle and was surprised by the weight when she lifted it. Her arm drooped as she choked up toward the carved metal block. “So I would, um, attack things with this?”

“Yes. There are multiple Spells to imbue the end with the holy element. It would also require you to allocate a section of your Stats to Strength.”

Matt cleaving Encroacher after Encroacher came to mind. Cannoli shook her head furiously and held out the hammer. “I can’t use this.”

Cecilia nodded and accepted the weapon before returning it to the wall. She lifted a staff lying horizontally on its two prongs, then turned to Cannoli. “Staves are for those who seek to attack from afar, granting the wielder a fiery offensive holy magic that is incredibly potent against the Defiled.”

The staff was lighter in Cannoli’s grasp, and she found it most comfortable if she held it in both hands. Fiery offensive… But they already had Ravyn’s unmatched fire Spells. Besides, Cannoli didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. She wanted to heal them. Help them. “I don’t think this one is for me, either.”

“Understood.” Cecilia replaced the staff, then reached for the final weapon—a golden scepter imbued with glittering sapphires. “This scepter is of a higher quality, so it may feel different in your hands.” She passed it to Cannoli. “Scepters will grant you additional healing abilities, as well as assistance to your Sigil Spells, which you will discuss with Sister Madeleine in your evening lessons.”

The balance of the golden scepter was perfect, and the grip in Cannoli’s hand felt right. “This is it, Sister Cecilia. This is the weapon I want.”

“Very good, then. Once you’ve passed my initial training, we will forge you one just like it.” Cecilia exchanged the golden scepter for Cannoli’s with a nod. “It seems you’ve had much experience traveling in your Party, Cannoli. I look forward to your sessions.”

“Thank you, Sister Cecilia. I do, too.”

For just a few heartbeats, Cannoli imagined her [Combat Mode] routine again, and she smiled.

 

A note from DoubleBlind:

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Chapter 256: Through the Evergreens

A huge thank you to my new Patrons, Th3Dud3 and VKandis!

The last few days of their journey were some of the hardest for Keke. With each passing sun, the inevitable parting between her and Matt grew closer. The time spent began to feel shorter, and she struggled to fill the space with interesting topics or activities. The task was made more difficult considering she was stuck in a carriage for most of her waking hours.

When the day of her departure at last arrived, she struggled to stay calm.

“We are almost there,” Cailu said, peering out the window. He’d insisted on riding with her and Matt that morning, and Keke was too nervous to object.

She bobbed her leg up and down on the ball of her foot to relieve the anxiety she felt. Cailu shot her a perturbed glance but said nothing. At least the man knew when to leave a girl alone.

Matt rested a hand on her bouncing knee. “It’s a lot greener out here.”

Even from inside the cabin, Keke could smell the aroma of dew-laden leaves, fresh soil, and the excited chirps of birds in search of food for their young. As the carriage continued along the path, the scents grew stronger, and they granted her a calm she hadn’t felt in weeks. The bouncing of her knee slowed, and for a moment, she felt at peace.

“It smells incredible,” Keke remarked.

“The locals prefer to live alongside nature,” Cailu said. “Few places compare when training to become a [Hunter].”

Keke peered through the window to her right. Spires of thick trees passed them by as crystal-clear droplets of water fell from the tips of leaves. The carriage shifted as it traveled up an incline, and Keke leaned against the seat as the forest enraptured her with its beauty.

“I’ve never seen such a beautiful forest,” Keke said in a voice barely above a whisper. Her body itched to explore and see what the thicket was hiding under every rock, every mound of dirt, and what plants grew here that she had yet to see. “This…this is Khasstead?”

She glanced at the elf as he nodded.

“Excited?” Matt asked.

A pang of guilt wracked her frame, drawing up the hairs on her skin. She bowed her head and leaned back, placing her hand over his. “To leave you? Never.” The truth was that her body felt as if it were being pulled in opposite directions. To think that it could be days, weeks, or even months before she saw Matt again crushed her. But thoughts of exploring the vast growth and how to traverse it more effectively fought to bury those feelings.

The carriage traveled upward for some time, and Keke wondered just how high they had gone. After a few minutes, she opened her mouth to ask when the carriage resumed a flat stride and turned to the right. A large fountain came into view, and the carriage rounded it, stopping at the opposite end from where they entered. The weight of the cabin shifted, and the door to Keke’s right opened.

“We’ve arrived in Khasstead,” the chipper coach said, gesturing for them to exit.

Cailu motioned for Keke and Matt to leave first. Keke took the lead, nodding her thanks to the coach on her exit. She strode forward a few steps, gasping with eyes wide. Somehow, the trees were even taller than they had initially appeared. A pair of unfamiliar, strikingly red birds flew overhead into a tree behind her. She’d only just arrived, and already she’d seen a species of Encroacher she would’ve never encountered on Ni Island.

Matt came to her side, furrowing his brow. “Do they just keep going?”

“Huh?” Keke asked, broken from her reverie.

“The trees.” He frowned. “I’ve never seen trees this tall. Makes me feel like they could fall over at any moment.”

She giggled. “I guess they do feel that way, huh?”

“Extra for your service,” Cailu said behind them. Keke turned around to see the elf put a few Bells in the catgirl’s palm. “We will depart in a few hours.”

“Very well! I’ll be at the tavern when you’re ready!” the catgirl saluted before jumping back into her seat and whipping the reins.

Ceres, Kirti, and Zahra approached from the carriage that had been following them. Ceres was practically running, waving her arm through the air like a kitten.

What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of energy, Keke thought as she smiled.

“Sir Matt! I beseech you to inhale deeply!” She shut her eyes, breathing in deep through her nostrils, then out through her mouth. “Have you ever tasted better air?”

“How incredible,” Zahra said with awe. “I had no idea such forests even existed.”

“You trained on San Island, didn’t you? Don’t they have some pretty dense forests?” Matt asked.

“I did,” Zahra said, shaking her head, “but never anything like this. It feels like the land has a voice.”

“That’s because it does,” an approaching woman said. Keke and the others turned to the source of the sound to see a catgirl with a build similar to her own. Long brown hair tied into innumerable braids framed a fair-skinned face with vibrant green eyes. Tight, form-fitting leather garbbed her generous curves from head to toe. A brown fur cloak draped over her shoulders, giving her the air of an experienced leader. “The land is always talking. You just need to listen.”

“A-ah,” Zahra stammered.

“Mm, yes. I think I hear the trees now,” Kirti said, wearing a familiar smirk.

Cailu stepped forward with a hand to his chest. “Forgive my Party member’s ignorance. My name is Cailu Raloquen.” Keke watched and fought down a laugh as Matt mouthed Cailu’s next words in time with Cailu. “First of his name. Are you Sylva?”

“I am.” Sylva crossed her arms. She flicked her head toward Keke. “Are you Keke?”

Keke blinked. “Yes, that’s me. How did you—”

“Cailu informed me of your coming weeks ago.” She came closer, sniffing the air mere inches from her face. Afterward, she drew back, and the slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You smell of the forest. How long have you been a [Scout]?”

“About four years.” It felt weird to say it. Choosing an initial Class was a very personal thing. To share it openly with so many others listening and watching felt intrusive. “It’s always been a part of me.”

Sylva seemed to think nothing of it, though. “I can see that.” She looked up, and her gaze caught a large black bird deftly flying between the trees. “Let’s get inside. Looks like it’s starting to rain.”

As Sylva led them away from the fountain, Keke took in every sight she could. Unlike the villages and towns she’d visited prior, the dwellings appeared to be crafted from several logs stacked on top of one another. The buildings had awnings on each side, protecting fires, crafts, and penned Encroachers from the oncoming drizzle.

What Keke found most interesting, however, was that despite the amount of women laboring outside, the air was quiet. Each of them worked with steady hands, talking in smooth tones and treading lightly wherever they went. She liked to believe she had an ear for the subtle, but she found it difficult to hear much of anything.

“In here,” Sylva said, opening the door to one of the dwellings. Inside, a hearth was burning at the back of the room, blanketing the room in a vibrant orange glow. Sylva strode in first, Cailu and his Party close behind her. Keke entered with Matt and Ceres afterward, awestruck by the design. She’d never seen finer carpentry in her life. The chairs were lined with furs to make them softer, and the heads of Encroachers were mounted on the walls. “Take a seat, please.”

Cailu offered Sylva a nod before she disappeared behind a pair of batwing doors. Keke frowned, then took a seat on one of the larger couches closer to the hearth where a long table stood. Matt and Ceres flanked her while Cailu and his Party took the couch on the other side of the table.

“This reminds me a lot of the camping trips I took as a kid,” Matt said.

“Camping trips?” Keke asked. She loved hearing about his previous world.

“Yeah. My parents loved the outdoors. They’d fight a lot, but going out to the forest was kinda nice. We’d dig for bugs, cook some of the fish we caught, and—” He stopped, then bowed his head.

“It’s not forever,” she whispered. She knew he hated to make a scene in front of others. “I’ll be right back by your side before you know it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Just thinking is all.” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, we’d sleep in cabins like this one. It’s kind of nostalgic.”

“It sounds like it. Believe it or not, Cannoli’s the one that likes digging up bugs.” Keke giggled. “We can try it together when we’re back on Ni.”

Matt nodded and gave her a weak smile.

Sylva returned with her left hand closed into a fist. She walked up to Keke and then opened her hand to reveal a small trinket. Thin sinews wound together in a web pattern in the center of a wooden hoop, holding a pure white feather in their grasp. “Wear this at all times, Keke. This marks you as a [Hunter] in training. Consider it your heart.”

“I will. Thank you,” Keke said, taking the medallion. She turned it around to find a small clasp on the back. She slid the clasp onto her collar, then shook it to make sure it was secure. A chill shot down her spine, and she fought down the urge to gasp. “What was that?”

“The medallion has recognized you,” Sylva said. “It acknowledges you as one of its own. I’ll explain it more tomorrow.” Keke nodded, and Sylva took a seat opposite the hearth. “We don’t have a tavern, but we would be happy to feed you before you leave.”

“We would be most grateful,” Cailu said, nodding.

“Think nothing of it. Bring back a large Encroacher next time I see you, and we’ll consider ourselves even.”

“We could at least pay you,” Keke offered.

Sylva cocked a brow. “Did Cailu not tell you?”

“Tell us what?” Matt asked.

“Your Bells have no value here,” Sylva said. “We deal in trade, not in coin. Coin is the purveyor of greed.”

“I admire your traditional outlook,” Kirti said with a playful smile.

“Kirti,” Cailu warned.

Kirti hummed.

“You deal in trade alone?” Zahra asked, genuine curiosity coloring her tone. “I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

“Coin deceives and corrupts. Only the land is honest and true,” Sylva explained.

Ceres put both hands to her chest. “My goodness. I am overwhelmed by such purity.”

“Give back, and you have nothing to fear. It is as simple as that.” Sylva glanced at Cailu, then at Matt. “With that said, I would make a request of the men.” Matt and Cailu looked at her. “Our clan leader’s daughter seeks to have a child of her own to pass on her lessons. Would either of you be able to assist her?”

Keke’s heart skipped a beat.

Cailu blinked, and Matt wrung his hands.

“Yeah, I can help you out,” Matt offered. “What’s her name?”

“Lily. After dinner, I can take you to her cabin.”

Matt nodded. He seemed to be chewing on the thought. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll help her out after dinner.”

“You have our thanks,” Sylva said, offering the first warm smile Keke had seen since their arrival. “She’ll be elated.” She rose from her seat. “I’ll see to it that dinner doesn’t take long. As grateful as I am for your help, we prefer to avoid as much foreign influence as possible.”

“We understand,” Cailu said.

Sylva smiled briefly again, then disappeared behind the batwing doors.

Keke wanted to ask him if he was sure, but not in front of everyone like this.

“I’m going to step outside for a minute,” Matt said, getting up. “The wagon and the cabin aren’t doing much in the way of fresh air.”

“I’ll join you,” Keke offered.

Matt paused, glanced at her, then smiled. “Okay.” He gestured for her to follow, and the two stepped outside, closing the door behind them.

The rain had worsened since they arrived. It was a steady downpour, washing out the other scents Keke had smelled earlier. Now, all there was was water. As the droplets pelted the rooftops, catgirls shared meals with one another under the safety of the awnings. Amusingly enough, she could hear them better now.

Probably because they have to speak louder.

That wasn’t important. The man standing beside her was.

“Are you okay with doing that, Matt?” Keke at last asked.

Matt glanced at her. “I have to be. Besides, it’ll give me some good Experience and Bells.”

I don’t want you to look at it like that.

“I need to take it more seriously, so I will.” He crossed his arms and drew a deep breath. “It’s weird, isn’t it? What would’ve happened if you didn’t pull me out of the water? Would I have ended up in some other catgirl’s care? Would I have gotten eaten by a Defiled?”

“Why are you talking like that?” His tone worried her. It wasn’t the tone of a person who was saying goodbye; it was the tone of a man who’d given up. “You know that the first thing I’m going to do as soon as I change to [Hunter] is send for you, right?”

“I know,” he nodded. “I’ve just…been thinking a lot, I guess. Now that we’re finally here, the day we met is just playing through my mind a lot. I keep repeating it in my head, and a part of me wishes I could stop it.”

“Matt…” She nudged closer to him and pulled his left arm free before wrapping her arms around his elbow. She leaned against his shoulder. He felt so strong and solid, and yet she could practically touch the turmoil in his heart. She sympathized. “Things will work out, you’ll see.”

“Yeah. I know. I guess I’m just feeling nostalgic is all.” Matt sighed. “Jeez, listen to me. I gotta stop that. I should be trying to look at this like another adventure.”

“Hey. We can both think about the next adventure later.” She nuzzled his bicep. “For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

They watched the rain fall together in silence.

Maybe this will do us some good. Our relationship is becoming…dangerous.

 

Chapter 257: Between Two Pines

Lily sat near the crackling fire in her common room, holding her longbow in one hand while she used the other to coat the bowstring in beeswax. She’d noticed a tiny fray in the string during her hunt that morning, and these things required tending to right away. A wound to her bow felt as severe as an injury to her arm, and letting it fester was inexcusable.

She slid her fingers over the fraying bowstring, reversing her path when the fray’s bump pricked her fingertips. The myriad trinkets from her hunts that hung from tight braids in her shoulder-length hair and her ears clinked together as she worked, adding merry chimes to the fire’s dance. Her dark brown hunting leathers, boots, and pale cloak hung a little ways from the hearth, drying in the flame’s heat after the afternoon rains.

“We both did well today,” she murmured to her longbow. “Khasstead hasn’t seen a haul like that in weeks.”

The bowstring warmed in her hand, and she plucked it taut a few times, letting the beeswax work its way between the fibers. There were many lessons her mother had passed onto her, but caring for her bow and her bird like family members was queen among them all. Lily often spoke with her weapon as she worked, and the spirit within the wood always seemed to listen.

A knock at the door came just as Lily was satisfied with her work. She dismissed her bow and stood, smoothing her green dress against her lap. After a silent march across the wooden floor, she swung the door wide to find a grinning Sylva on her doorstep.

Lily smiled. “I had a feeling you’d enjoy today’s trappings.”

“Yes, Lily. We all do. However, that isn’t what brings me here.” Sylva shook her head. “There are two men in Khasstead.”

Lily’s heart skipped. She’d waited nearly a decade to hear those words. It had been some time since a man had journeyed over their hills. Oftentimes, they wondered if someday that would cease. But…two? “I-is that so?” she managed.

Her grin widened. “It is. And one of them has agreed to bless you with a kitten.”

“Sylva! Spirits cradle you! You are a gift.” Lily was breathless with excitement; her ears trembled, and her tail straightened behind her. She knew that with the rapid onset of her aging mother’s ailments, it wouldn’t be long before she became the leader of Khasstead. Having a descendant would put both Lily’s and Wren’s minds at ease.

Sylva echoed the thought as she took Lily’s hand. “It is my honor to aid in continuing Wren’s long-held lineage. I can think of no one better deserving.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Lily squeezed Sylva’s hand. “What must I do?”

Sylva gestured over her shoulder. “I thought it best if you join us for dinner first. The company in my cabin could use your light.”

Lily let the door remain open as she moved to collect her boots and cape. “What do you mean?”

“The man who agreed to help you, and his companion that will remain behind when he leaves, they…ah. Well, it feels as if their hunts have not been kind.”

“Hm.” In her twenty-eight years in Khasstead, Lily had experienced many poor hunts. But she had triumphed over many more. There was a delicate balance to strike between success and failure, and she’d met a number of travelers and traders who sought more weight on their successes. “Which island are they from?”

“Ni. Though, as we know, every journey has its perils.”

Lily fingered the golden clasp on her pale cloak—an emblem in the shape of an arrow. She would have to guard her excitement close to her heart. Overwhelming a target was a surefire way to lose her opportunity. She straightened her shoulders and turned toward the door. “I understand.”

“You are the wisest of us all, Lily. Now, come. Let us not keep our guests waiting.”

The rain had dulled to a light mist, and Lily was happy to wear her warm cloak about her shoulders like an embrace. Pip, her speckled felleck, swooped down from the edge of her roof and landed on her arm. Lily gave the green and yellow bird a hunk of meat from her [Cat Pack] and stroked the back of his neck. Satiated, Pip chirped happily before returning to the skies, joining Sylva’s jet-black hunting partner in trailing them.

They walked briskly to Sylva’s cabin, passing two young women returning late from their hunts—Odelle and Noam. Their ears and hair were soaked by the rain, but they murmured excitedly about a warren of Encroachers they’d discovered nearby. Lily smiled, glad to see her lessons with them had borne fruit.

As soon as they stepped inside Sylva’s home, Lily surveyed the room with wandering eyes and ears. A seasoned man in plate armor stood with his arms crossed, and his hard gaze took her measure immediately. Beside him sat two dark-haired catgirls, one wearing a smirk, the other attempting to sit still, but Lily caught her fingers writhing beneath the table.

On the sofa near the hearth sat a second man, younger than the first, flanked by a yellow-haired catgirl and another who carried the scent of the forest.

“Everyone, this is Lily,” Sylva said.

Lily placed a hand on her chest and bowed. “It is a blessing to cross paths with you.”

The yellow-haired catgirl shot to her feet. “It is indeed! I am Ceres of Shi Island. These are my companions, Matt and Keke of Ni Island.”

Lily straightened and smiled. It was good to see at least one of their number in high spirits.

Matt raised a hand in a weak wave, and Ceres nudged his shoulder with one fist. Lily was certain it was meant to escape her notice, but nothing moved without her knowing.

Matt knit his brow, then rose to his feet. “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

Keke did the same and offered her a quick bow. “I’ll be staying with you from today on while I train to be a [Hunter].”

“So Sylva tells me. Khasstead welcomes you, Keke.” Lily turned to the second group. “And who else do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

The man opened his mouth, but the short-haired woman was faster. “I’m Kirti. Zahra. Cailu.” Kirti flicked her fingers toward the others as she introduced them. “Tell me, Lily. Do you truly speak with trees?”

Cailu laid a hand on Kirti’s shoulder. Lily noted the deep indents on her skin from Cailu’s fingertips. This wasn’t his first frustration with her. “Please, do not concern yourself with entertaining my companion. She often opens her mouth without forethought.”

Lily exchanged a look with Sylva. It was an interesting group, to say the least. “I pray you find the forest and its fruits hospitable during your time in Khasstead, friends.” She circled the common room, and Sylva followed close behind. “My mother, Wren, is the leader of our clan. I apologize on her behalf that she could not be here to greet you personally; she is bedridden, I fear.”

“I’m so sorry, Lily,” Keke said.

Lily nodded. “That’s kind of you to say. She’ll be glad to meet you, Keke.”

Keke nodded. There was a sadness in her golden eyes that Lily couldn’t place. But she felt the earliest threads of a kinship with the young woman. Those who understood the forest always found it in others.

Sylva stepped behind Lily toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready, everyone. Let’s move to the table.”

They huddled around Sylva’s table, which was made to fit five people at most, and she spooned a hearty stew into their wooden bowls.

“Lily provided the meat for today’s meal,” Sylva announced proudly. “Her hunt this morning treated her well.”

Lily swelled with pride. Providing for her clan and its guests was a great accomplishment. “Sylva is too kind. Her [Cooking] is unmatched in Khasstead.”

“Let us hope I live up to that compliment.” Sylva laughed.

“I am certain you will. It smells delicious!” Ceres exclaimed. She’d taken a seat next to Lily and turned to face her. Pointing to the ornaments in her hair and on her ears, she asked, “Did you make this jewelry yourself?”

“I did. They’re from my rarest Encroacher hunts. Everything from our prey is used, from the meat to the fur to the teeth. Many of us wear pieces of our proudest catches to honor their sacrifice,” Lily explained.

“My father shared similar principles, Lily. It’s good to see them practiced outside of Ichi Island,” Zahra said. Some of her tension drained from her shoulders as she spoke.

“A wise man indeed.” Lily lifted her spoon and stole a glance at Matt. He took a bite of his stew, then filled his spoon and watched as the liquid dripped back into the bowl. “Is this your first time in Nyarlothep, Matt?”

Matt blinked, then swallowed. His raised brows betrayed that he hadn’t expected her to call on him. “Yeah.”

“How do you find it?”

“Big.” He took another bite. Keke caught his eye and gave a near-imperceptible shake of her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. Nyarlothep’s great, from what I’ve seen so far. Nothing’s ripped off my head yet, so I’ve got that going for me.”

Lily chuckled. “I’m certain we could find you an adequate foe for the task if you desire it. But I fear you won’t see much more of this land afterward.”

The first hints of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. It’d be a little hard to hit Second Class that way.”

Lily saw her opening and pressed. “What Second Class will you train for?”

Their back and forth continued, and Matt slowly opened up to conversation. Keke and Ceres chipped in, and Zahra’s tension evaporated as she added her own thoughts. It wasn’t long before the spirits in the cabin were elevated with laughter.

Matt’s initially guarded stare warmed toward Lily, and her heart sped. She’d never met her father and didn’t know what to expect when the time came. There was a tightness in her chest she couldn’t explain and a nervous energy at her core. But Matt laughed easily and had such a handsome smile. The threads of her attraction gathered as they emptied their bowls.

When dinner ended, Matt touched Keke’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear before following Lily outside. A cold evening breeze danced along Lily’s skin, and she paused to look at the stars. It was a cloudless night, and the thousands of twinkling lights always brought her comfort.

“Everything okay?” Matt asked, stopping at her side.

“Yes, forgive me. I…I’m nervous,” Lily admitted.

“Well, you helped make that the most comfortable dinner I’ve ever had with Cailu.” Matt shoved his hands into his pockets. “Least I can do is try to make you more comfortable for this.”

Lily smiled. “Thank you, Matt. I can’t tell you what this means to me.” Pip descended from the sky and landed on her shoulder. He nibbled at one of the trinkets in her hair. “For all of us.”

“Right. More birds,” Matt sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s no problem. Glad I can help.” Matt pulled one of hands free and slid his fingers between hers. “Lead the way.”

Read the NSFW scene here (Patreon exclusive)

 

Chapter 258: Longing Willow

A knock came at the door while Saphira was washing her hands in the basin.

“One moment!” she cried as she dried her hands on a nearby towel. She brushed her palms against her apron and made for the front door. Two familiar faces greeted her on the other side. “Espada! Goose! Come on in!”

Espada offered a curt nod and procured a bottle of dark wine from behind her back. “I know you’re avoiding the stuff, but Goose and I want to have a couple of glasses if you don’t mind.”

Saphira shook her head. “Not at all!”

“Thank you, thank you,” Goose sang as she skipped into Saphira’s home.

Saphira shut the door once they were all inside, then briskly returned to the kitchen, where two pots of stew cooked over her stove. She grabbed a mitten and cupped it over the knob beneath the pot, and pulled open the door. The fire was still going strong, so she nodded and shut it before setting the mitten back to the side.

“It smells delicious,” Espada said, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Thank you. It’s an old recipe of my grandmother’s. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure it’s amazing.”

Saphira swung open a cabinet above her and plucked two glasses from within, holding them upside down with one hand. Years spent farming meant she had practiced hands, and she took great pride in her ability to accommodate friends and family. Grabbing a wine opener from a nearby drawer, thoughts of the last time she’d shared a glass with Matt pricked her tail. She strolled over to where Espada and Goose were sitting, cheerily humming as she gestured for the bottle of wine in Espada’s hand.

“It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been here,” Espada commented, surrendering the bottle. “Keepin’ busy?”

“Every day is busy,” Saphira giggled as she set the glasses down. “Not that I mind it. I have excellent company.” She gestured to the crib against the back wall that Espada and Goose had built. Marie was happily playing with a few blocks that Goose had as a kitten. It baffled Saphira that Marie could already walk. Not that Marie could walk well just yet, but the fact that she’d picked it up so quickly and easily had Saphira wondering if she’d learned anything that early. “What about you?”

“Things are quiet lately, what with Matt and his Party gone. Demand for weapons and armor is low without ‘em. So I’ve been working the irrigation and home repairs lately.” Espada shrugged.

“Where’s Tabitha?” Saphira asked. Tabitha was a rambunctious woman, obsessed with dirt and everything beneath it. She had her heart set on being the one responsible for Junonia’s irrigation, and she worked as the village’s carpenter in her off time.

“We’re not sure, but she did mention checking out the other towns on Ni Island. Maybe she just got tired of this place.” Goose shrugged.

“It feels strange to take up her post,” Espada continued. “Not exactly my field of expertise. But it’s a living, and it’s oddly satisfying work. Besides, Goose is makin’ sure I don’t lose my touch.”

Saphira uncorked the bottle and set the opener to the side, blinking. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re looking at a [Fighter],” Goose said with a toothy grin. “Been hearing all about Matt and his Party from Espada and the other girls, so I thought I’d make my own waves out there.” She emphasized the point by imitating an ocean’s current with her hands.

Saphira smiled. Ni Island wasn’t known for its plethora of adventurers. Most of them ended up calling it quits before Second Class—choosing quieter lives in tending to children, farming, cooking, or living off the land. She couldn’t think of the last time she heard of someone leaving Junonia. Well, except for Matt and his group. “Are you thinking of exploring outside the island?”

Goose shook her head. “Not yet. I’m thinking of hunting some small-time Encroachers for a few Bells. Espada’s been helping me.” She nudged Espada playfully.

Espada chuckled. “She has a good sword arm, so I’ve been teaching her in my off time.”

“Espada, you’re the best I’ve ever seen! You must’ve trained on Nyarlothep,” Goose said.

“Something like that.” Espada had always been tight-lipped about where she came from before she settled on Ni Island. Whenever she was asked, she’d shake her head and change the subject. If anyone pushed too hard, then she’d suggest they go on their way.

Saphira didn’t mind it so much, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. Still, it wasn’t her place. She offered her own change of topic as she began to fill Espada and Goose’s glasses. “That’s so exciting, Goose!”

“It feels so good to train and Level. Don’t you think, Saphira?” Goose asked, leaning forward with eager eyes. She watched Saphira pour the wine, gripping the glass’ neck using her first two fingers and her thumb.

Saphira could hardly remember how long she’d dabbled in her Class after her choosing. Every catgirl selected a Class when they came of age, but it was a distant memory to her now. “A-ah… I admittedly don’t remember much.” She giggled and poured Espada’s drink next. “I know that I selected [Scout], though.”

“Huh. I would’ve figured you for a [Chemist] or a [Mage],” Goose said.

“I’d heard from Keke that [Scout]s were good at finding Encroacher parts, so I figured that I might become a leatherworker at some point,” Saphira said. She shook her head. “I’m not one for combat, though. I only ever reached Level 2.”

Goose nodded as she swirled her glass. “That’s our Saphira. Pure to the core.”

Saphira flushed and curled a lock of her hair around her finger. “Hardly.”

“You could charm the evil out of the Defiled,” Espada laughed before draining nearly half her glass.

Saphira wondered if Espada knew that wine was a bit different than ale. “That’s kind of you to say.” She could feel her cheeks growing hotter by the second. “I’m going to finish up dinner.”

By the time the food was ready to be served, Espada and Goose were laughing up a storm. Saphira set three hearty plates on the table, then strolled over to her daughter’s crib. Marie cooed and reached for Saphira’s finger, gripping it tight so as not to fall over.

“You’re so smart!” Saphira said in a high-pitched timbre. “It’s time for dinner!” She reached down and picked Marie up, cradling her in her arms as she approached the table in the living room. It was perfect for the occasion. She’d tried to share dinner with her daughter at the dinner table, but it had proven difficult with its height.

“Thank you for the meal,” Espada said with a nod. She’d finished her wine before dinner and didn’t seem any worse for wear. The same amount would’ve seen Saphira sleeping on the floor within minutes.

“Yeah, thanks!” Goose said.

“You’re welcome,” Saphira smiled as she took a seat across from Espada and Goose. Bouncing Marie on her knee, she plucked a fork from the table, skewered the steamed meozuna greens, and hovered the vegetable over Marie’s head. “Oh, look what I got you!” The kitten batted the air for her mother’s food, grabbing hold of Saphira’s wrist after the third attempt. Marie guided the fork to her mouth, nibbling on the soft veggie, and her tiny ears perked straight up. “Oh, what a good girl! Mommy’s little kitten is so smart!”

Goose and Espada watched with smiles on their faces as they picked at their food. Saphira continued to spoon and fork her food, sharing every other bite with Marie. To her relief, Marie was not a picky eater—Saphira’s mother had always liked to tease her about how fussy she was as a kitten.

“I can’t believe how fast she’s growing,” Goose commented while she wiped at her mouth with a handkerchief.

“I know, isn’t she beautiful?” Saphira glowed. “I love her with all of my heart and soul.” She and Marie touched foreheads, eliciting an excited coo from the kitten.

“It’s still so weird to me that Matt left,” Goose continued. “He’s such a…unique man.”

That was the perfect word for Matt. Saphira had never heard of a man traveling the other islands so quickly, nor had she ever heard of one working with the neighboring islands. It wasn’t unheard of, but she pined for Matt’s smile, his laugh, and his embrace. His presence brought so much hope and life to Junonia, and his absence was sorely felt.

Every day spent without him was another day Saphira spent worrying for his safety. As strong as he was, she feared that his kindness and consideration could bring him harm.

I hope you’re okay, Matt.

Espada snorted. “I can think of a few other words for him.”

Saphira guided another spoonful of potatoes into Marie’s mouth. “What do you mean?”

“We got off to a rough start.” She pushed her empty plate forward and leaned back against the sofa. “I was already pis—” She hesitated, glanced at Marie, then coughed into her fist. “I was in a bad mood that day. So I told him off when he tried to barter.”

Saphira gasped. “Espada!”

In a rare moment, Espada looked uncomfortable. “I work hard on my craft, and I wasn’t about to let him take advantage of me just because he was a man.”

“But they’re here to protect us.”

“I get that,” Espada said, her tone lowering, “I’ve just seen others who flaunt their influence, and I’m not okay with that.”

“I hope you apologized later.”

Espada blinked. “Sure. Yeah, I did.”

Saphira wasn’t quite sure if Espada was telling the truth, but she decided not to pry. “Well, it sounds like you’re on good terms now, then.”

Espada shrugged. “I think so. I gave him a few pointers when I had time.”

“You mean when it was convenient,” Goose jabbed Espada between the ribs playfully. “I know what those words really mean.”

Espada shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Sure you do.”

Marie grabbed one of Saphira’s bangs and pulled her closer. “Aauuooo?”

“Sweetie, you’re hurting Mommy,” Saphira said as she unhooked her daughter’s hand from her hair. She giggled and used her free hand to fix her hair. “You know, I’ve always wondered, Espada.”

“Hm?”

“What brought you to Ni Island? You know so much about weapons and armor, and you learn things so much faster than I would.” She tilted her head inquisitively. “Where did you learn?”

Espada didn’t answer immediately. “I used to work in Nyarlothep as a smith.”

“I knew it!” Goose cried.

A warning glance escaped the corner of Espada’s eyes. Goose quieted, and she continued, “I got tired of my work there and decided to come here instead.”

“A fresh start?”

“You could say that,” she said quickly. Her tone was flat and snappy. “I guess I just got tired of the politics and making weapons and armor for those who didn’t deserve them.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come to Ni Island,” Saphira smiled. This was a sensitive topic for Espada, that much she could tell. It was time to let the matter drop. What did it matter, anyway? “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Espada’s easy smile returned. “Thanks.”

The room was warm and comforting. As the conversation continued, Saphira eventually let Marie walk around under the condition that Goose sat on the floor with her. It was much easier to keep an eye on a curious kitten with multiple people. The three of them played with Marie, and when it was her bedtime, Saphira placed her daughter back in her crib and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you again for dinner,” Espada said. “It’s been a while since I had such a nice home-cooked meal.”

“You’re so welcome!” Saphira clapped her hands together. “We should do this again sometime.”

“I agree! Maybe next time I’ll bring the meat,” Goose said. “Fresh kill and all that.”

“As long as I don’t have to, well, prepare it.” Saphira swallowed hard. She couldn’t imagine being the one responsible for skinning and bisecting an Encroacher for food. She always left that to the butchers.

“Don’t worry. I could never ask you to do that.”

“Then it’s a plan!”

Espada and Goose waved their farewells, and Saphira shut the door behind them, leaning against its surface when they were gone. The room was quiet now, with only the crackling of the hearth and her daughter’s snores to keep her company. For a few moments, she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. She had the family she always dreamed of. Marie was every bit the blessing from Saoirse she imagined.

But the longer she stared, the longer she listened, the more empty the room started to feel. Her hands clenched into fists behind her, and her longing for Marie’s father heightened.

I wish you could see your daughter right now, Matt.

 

A note from DoubleBlind:


A huge thank you to my new Patrons, Cole and Zachary!

---​

Chapter 259: Clogs of Oak

Ravyn rubbed the bridge of her nose and stood when the dance was at last over.

Emberlynn’s thin fingers grazed the table as she rose from her seat, coughing into her fist. “You have given me much to think about, and I would like to believe that Cailu made the right choice in delegating you as his mouthpiece.”

Cailu. Mouthpiece. That fuck.

“I will offer you my vote in Zhuli’s name to forward your plans,” Emberlynn continued.

Ravyn balled her hands into fists and clenched her teeth. And yet you said your vote means nothing.

“Do not forget that Melody will require much more than just my agreement to press forward.”

Yes. We heard you the first time. “Thank you for the help, Mother.” Ravyn turned and rounded the table to leave. Bally flew over from the nearby window and landed on her shoulder when Emberlynn raised her hand.

“Hold,” she said. “Considering everything that has transpired today, I believe it would be prudent if one who spoke in my name were to accompany you.”

Tristan nodded. “I understand. I think it would be best if your words came from someone you trust.”

“Excellent. I know just the person to send with you. She is a talented [Myrmidon] and has served me for nearly ten years.” She looked at Ravyn. “Ravyn is familiar with her.”

Who is she talking about?

“Rely on her.”

Tristan blinked. “Thank you. That is most kind of you.”

“Certainly,” Emberlynn nodded. “If you require anything else, please let one of my handmaidens know.”

Tristan smiled. “I will.”

Emberlynn nodded. “I will speak with my [Myrmidon] immediately and have her introduce herself tomorrow morning. I’m sure you would like to relax in the meantime.”

Ravyn forced a smile. “Thank you, Mother. We’ll be downstairs.”

Emberlynn formed her lips into a thin line and hummed before gliding across the hall and into the room beyond. After she shut the doors, Ravyn sighed and ushered Tristan outside.

“So, what do you think?” Tristan asked.

“I think this is all a load of roachshit, is what I think,” Ravyn grumbled, slamming the door to the dining hall shut. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I need it after this fucking dance.” Tristan’s expression darkened. “Tea. Let’s get tea.”

“That’s a good idea. We could use a break,” Tristan said easily.

Ravyn was reaching her boiling point. Her mother was just as manipulative as she remembered. It was never so simple as speaking straight to one another. No, everything had to be a duel, a conversation, an equation, and an in-depth fucking analysis. She rocked her lower jaw from side to side and grumbled as they descended the staircase.

I never wanted to come back here. Ravyn listened to the sound of their footsteps squeaking on the wood beneath them.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything,” Tristan said after a time.

Ravyn kept her hand on the banister as she walked, glancing at him over her shoulder. “The cunt threw his baggage onto you. I’m not about to let him get away with that.”

“Is that really all this is to you? A way to get back at him?”

Ravyn stopped and turned around when they reached the bottom. “If you want to say something, say it. I’m tired of walking on eggshells.”

Tristan didn’t smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business, but,” he shrugged, “your actions don’t reflect revenge.”

“That asshole impregnated my mother and forced a sister onto me. What’s not to hate about that?” She directed her attention back to the hall ahead and stomped her way forward.

“What is it you hate about Cailu so much, anyway?” Tristan asked, following closely behind her.

“Where do I start? The way he treats catgirls and throws them to the wind? The fake persona he puts up whenever he talks to us? His overbearing need to tell everyone how the fuck to live and work? How about the shitty way he treats Matt?” She pointed to a hall on their right. “Tea. Now.”

Ravyn threw open the doors. Three of the attendants within were sitting at a table but quickly rose to their feet at her approach.

“Our apologies!” one girl said, bowing at the waist and coming back up. She put her hands in her lap and fiddled with her thumbs. “How can we assist?”

Ravyn drummed her fingers at the edge of the doorframe, the thought of burning liquor lingering at the back of her mind and throat. “Tea. I don’t care which, just none of that fluttery, weak garbage.”

“U-understood,” the girl stammered. She turned around and gestured for the others to move. Their practiced hands and careful steps suggested years of experience as they quickly cleared the way for Ravyn and Tristan to sit.

Ravyn chose a chair at one end of the round table and crossed her legs. Bally hopped onto the table, tilting his head up at his master.

“And snacks for Bally, too,” Ravyn said.

“Yes!”

Tristan took the seat across from Ravyn and perched his chin on his palm. “I’m worried about Destiny,” he admitted.

Honestly, she was, too. Emberlynn had that kind of effect on people. But if Ravyn had swapped places with Destiny, she wouldn’t want Matt to see her like that. “Lara’s with her. I’d give them a minute.”

“Hm. Alright.” He drummed his fingers along the table’s surface. “So, where do we want to go from here?”

Ravyn mirrored Tristan, drumming her fingers across her face. “Just…let’s not make any big decisions just yet. I need the silence right now. I can’t think.”

Tristan hummed in understanding, and the silence passed them by. Minutes later, a girl—one with long black hair tied into an intricate braid in the back and eyes of green so dark they almost appeared black—came to the table with two saucers, each with a tall cup on top. She set one saucer each in front of Ravyn and Tristan, then riffled through her pockets for a stack of nuts for Bally and set them on a silver tray on the table. Ball set to crunching his hoard as the girl offered a curt nod before turning tail and exiting through a room to the side.

Ravyn took her cup into both hands and brushed the lip with her middle finger.

What are you doing right now, Matt? She furrowed her brow. Have you met the queen yet? I hope you’re safe. Try not to be too hard on yourself. She drew a deep breath and rolled her head back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I know you said you value your silence,” Tristan said before taking a sip of his tea, “but you seem to have more on your mind than just this meeting.”

She directed her gaze toward him, her chin still held high. “I get what you’re trying to do, but I have enough shit going on without someone trying to crack me open.”

“Your call.” Tristan continued to sip his tea. “Let’s change the subject, then. I don’t mean to be a pest, but how much do you know about [Wizard]?”

Ravyn was relieved to change the subject. She relaxed her neck and blinked. “Many [Wizard]s live on San Island. It’s where most catgirls learn to become one.” She cursed the words that were moments away from leaving her mouth. “Mou ii… My mother may be able to hurry along your Class Change.”

“That’d be great if she could. As much as I want to keep working on San Island, I do want to make sure that I’m prepared for anything that comes our way.”

“I’ll talk to Mother about it. She’s employed several [Wizard]s over the years.”

“Thank you, Ravyn.” Tristan nursed his tea, brushing his thumbs against the cup’s exterior. He made a number of quiet noises with his lips before motioning one of the handmaidens over. A catgirl with short white hair approached. “Excuse me, is it okay if I take this to another room?”

“Of course! You may take the drink wherever you prefer. You are an honored guest here.”

And here I thought we got the hell away from the whole Service, Grace, Urgency sham.

“Thank you. I won’t spill it,” Tristan said with an easy smile. He rose from the table with his cup, flicking his head toward the door they came through. “Alright. I’m going to look for Destiny and Lara. Are you going to stay here?”

Ravyn leveled her gaze and frowned. “I’m not a kitten.”

Tristan blinked. “I didn’t mean to treat you like a kid. It’s just if you’re going to—”

“Just go find your maids. I’ll be here,” she groaned.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” Tristan nodded, then quickly left the room. Ravyn took a sip of her tea, then set the cup down, peering into the liquid. It was a pale green, and a small, dark fleck of tea leaf floated to the surface, hovering vertically. A San Island custom said that such an event was a sign of good luck.

What a fucking joke.

Having finished his nutty hill, Bally hopped over to his master and nuzzled his face against her forearm. She smiled and scratched him behind his head. As miserable as the experience was, now she had a sister. A real sister who could take on the family business when she was older.

Is Mother going to live long enough to train her for that?

The thought of managing the business made her sick to her stomach. She could play the game, but she hated it. The Bells, the constant feigning of partnerships, the manipulation. That was not the life for her.

But Sophia needs me. If Mother passes away even a year from now, then…

No, it wasn’t going to do any good thinking about it right now. Tristan had other more pressing matters, and she needed to be a part of it. Besides, this was a temporary measure until she was back in Matt’s Party.

Ravyn’s mind continued to wander the possibilities, and soon, she desperately craved the easy company that Tristan had offered earlier. If she couldn’t rely on a stiff drink to get out of her own head, then she could at least alleviate the issue with conversation. She slammed her hands on the table in frustration, frightening one of the handmaidens.

“Sorry,” Ravyn said.

“D-do you need anything?” the timid girl asked.

“No. I—”

As the words left her mouth, the door beside her opened and in walked Tristan, Destiny, and Lara. Destiny’s face was puffy and red, Lara’s expression one of concern. Lara and Tristan flanked Destiny, a gentle hand on each shoulder.

What happened to her? The conversation had been tense, but not to that extent. “Destiny?”

“I just need to sit down. I’m fine, really,” Destiny insisted.

Lara nodded. “Okay. But please talk to me if you need anything?”

Destiny’s smile was so obviously forced. “I will. I promise.”

“What happened?” Ravyn asked, her brow furrowed.

“I think Destiny needs a minute to relax,” Tristan said. “She’s just overwhelmed.”

No surprise there. This place’ll do that to you.

Ravyn resumed her seat while Destiny and Lara took spots next to her.

“Since we don’t see my mother’s ambassador until tomorrow, why don’t we take the night off?” Ravyn suggested. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Tristan nodded. “I feel the same.”

A heavy nod from Destiny, and then her sister, confirmed that they could all use some peace and quiet.

Ravyn retired to her room alone, glancing once at the still-glowing Garney before curling up in her bed.

What the hell are we going to do?

They met once again in the breakfast hall the next morning. Destiny seemed to be in much better spirits, and Lara’s gaze still wandered to who knew where. As Tristan moved to sit, the door behind him opened, and he turned around.

“Excuse me,” the woman with black hair from earlier said, “you are Tristan, is that right?” She was garbed differently from before. Instead of the attire that many of the other handmaidens wore, she was dressed in a white half-robe with bright pink trims. Her legs were bare from halfway up her thigh, displaying her smooth, alabaster skin. She wore a pair of split-toe white socks and wooden sandals. Her dark green gaze was like that of a snake’s. Piercing, analyzing, and eerily patient.

“Y-yes, that’s me. Can I help you?”

The woman bowed slowly at the waist. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Yanni. I am to be Emberlynn’s ambassador in your Party.”

 

Side Quest: Unniyarcha

For the first time in sixteen months, it rained on Ichi Island.

Krethik could not craft his morning kolam, which was perhaps for the best. It was a bittersweet day for his small Party, and he’d spent his last evening and the early hours of the morning with Ishani to say his goodbyes.

However, when Ishani was ready to depart for Madhyam, Naeemah was nowhere to be found.

“I understand if she’s upset with me,” Ishani said, averting her sanguine gaze from Krethik’s face.

“Even if that is so, she should still be here to wish you well.” While he was empathetic toward Naeemah’s emotions, courtesy was a virtue he wished to instill in the youth.

Naeemah is a woman now, he corrected himself. She had received her gift of choosing a Class shortly after they’d met, and she carried herself with a grace of years beyond her age. But there was still so much he wanted to teach her. So many things to prepare her for.

“Please, Ishani, wait here. I’ll find her.” Krethik placed a gentle hand on Ishani’s shoulder.

“Of course.” She caressed her stomach with her fingertips, her long tail swaying behind her. “You have given me such a wonderful gift, Krethik. The least I can do is wait.”

He smiled. Ensuring the island’s population was part of his position as a man, certainly, but he relished the joy that kittens brought to their mothers. He would do everything in his power to keep his people safe and protect their happiness.

“I’ll be back shortly.” Having searched every corner of the citadel, Krethik moved outside. While rain was typically seen as bad luck for a new beginning where he’d grown up, on Ichi it was a blessing. It would replenish their water stores and offer their crops a much-needed drink.

He didn’t bother covering his head, allowing the cool droplets to cling to his hair and neck to offset the warm desert air. Mariamman herself could not have summoned a more perfect rain in Rājadhānī, but he sent his silent thanks. Just in case.

There were two places that he sensed Naeemah could be hiding. The first was the stables, where she often spent time with the gigashanks and horses. Unfortunately, he only found the Encroachers and the young lady tending to them. With a quick greeting and apology, Krethik headed for the training grounds.

Naeemah moved and spun in the center of the sparring ring, performing the fluid motions of the Kalaripayattu just as Krethik had taught her. Instead of the traditional katar, she wielded twin daggers crafted for her hands alone. He’d never seen her move through the sets so quickly, and she struck the air like a serpent, bending and pivoting so the rain never seemed to strike her. Her long hair, tied back high on her head, whipped around her body like a single-bladed urumi, its point snapping at the droplets that dared approach.

“Naeemah,” Krethik called from the edge of the ring.

Naeemah didn’t respond. She kicked high into the air and howled into the sky.

“Naeemah!” Krethik snapped.

She dropped her heel to the dirt and marched forward. “This is when we do Kalari together every day, Krethik,” she hissed. “Or has that changed, too?”

Krethik crossed his arms. “Ishani is waiting for you to say goodbye.”

“I know!” Naeemah spun and threw one of her daggers at an archery target at the other end of the training yard. The point lodged itself just outside of the bullseye, and she growled. “I know.”

“Naeemah–”

“Two years she’s traveled with us. Two years in our Party. Does she hate us?” Her voice cracked on the question. “Does she hate me?”

He softened his tone. “Of course not. Ishani has nothing but the highest respect for you. She’s chosen a new life for herself. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to raise her children and fight.”

Naeemah’s grip tightened around her remaining dagger. “I would never abandon my post for something so ridiculous.”

“Wanting a family is far from ridiculous,” Krethik countered.

“Is it? Why doesn’t she just leave her kitten with a nyanny, then? They can pass her around when it suits them like they did to me, and then Ishani can stay with us.” Her voice had escalated to a yell, and she gestured wildly with both hands.

“You know that this is for the best,” he replied calmly.

“No. You know what isn’t fair? Everyone leaves, Krethik. My mother, my nyannies, and now Ishani.” She focused her stare on the ground, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m… I…” Her ears flattened against her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Krethik stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace. She’d never let him get so close before. But now, as her dagger fell to the ground with a thud, she threw her hands around his waist and buried her face in his chest. The sound of rainfall muffled her quiet sobs while Krethik stroked her hair and murmured strings of a lullaby into her ear.

A fond memory swirled into his mind’s eye like the sweet breeze that caressed his cheek. “You’re just like Uuniyarcha, Naeemah.”

She sniffled and mumbled against his shirt, “Who?”

Krethik smiled. “Uuniyarcha. She was a legendary warrior with—” he considered how to tie the urumi into Nyarlea “—four sleek tails made of metal.”

Naeemah pulled away and wiped her nose on the inside of her sleeve. “How did she get dressed?”

“Very carefully,” he laughed. “Uuniyarcha was a master of Kalari, you see. She used her tails as her weapon, and she fiercely protected what she believed in. There are many stories about Uuniyarcha taking on a dozen adversaries at once and coming out victorious.” He brushed the last of the tears away from Naeemah’s face just as the rain began to ease. “And her beauty captured every eye that was lucky enough to see her.”

Naeemah stepped aside and knelt to retreat her dagger. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“You may not see it now, but I trust that you will in time.” He watched as she straightened and returned the dagger to its sheathe. “And in that time, people will change, the world will change, and we will change. Ishani’s decision is one to be celebrated, not scorned.”

She chewed on his words and looked up at the sky. “Will you leave me, too, Krethik?”

He hesitated, then chose to speak his heart. “Not until the goddess calls me away from you, Naeemah. You have my word.”

A tense silence passed between them, and then Naeemah nodded. “I believe you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the target, and a light blush tinged her cheeks. “I… I want to wish Ishani well. I’ll go get my dagger and meet you inside?”

“Of course. We can continue practicing Kalari after she’s left if you’d like.”

Her face brightened, and her ears twitched contentedly. “Okay!”

As Krethik watched her jog toward the target, his heart felt lighter. He often wondered if he should tell her how difficult it was not to think of her as his daughter.

 

Chapter 260: Black Ash

Yanni’s long black tail swayed behind her while she observed Emberlynn’s daughter with a tilted head. Ravyn was just as fiery and combative as the mistress had claimed. If she wasn’t muttering expletives under her breath, she was leaning on her palm, drumming her fingers, sighing, sipping her tea like a disobedient kitten.

I see nothing of the mistress in this woman, Yanni thought.

“Take a seat, then,” Ravyn said, gesturing to one of the chairs.

“I will stand,” Yanni said, clasping her hands in front of her and resting them on her lap, as was customary for Emberlynn’s servants. “It is more comfortable for me.”

Ravyn raised a brow. “Mou ii.”

Ravyn was a strange person. Never had Yanni heard such words. She pondered their significance, bookmarking the event in her mind in case a topic of conversation would be necessary later.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you caught me at a bad time,” Tristan admitted.

Yanni shook her head. “Please, tend to your companion. If you require me, I shall be right here.”

“Thanks.”

“Really, I’m fine,” the one named Destiny said. Tristan kept a firm hand on her shoulder and offered her consoling words. The man of Shi Island was just as graceful as Yanni had imagined. As to be expected of an island which prided itself on service. “I’m sorry if I gave you a scare.”

“I just want to be sure you’re alright,” Tristan said as he pulled her closer beside him.

This young man so readily professes his concerns. Yanni struggled to remember the term she’d heard a man use before. Was it… to wear one’s sleeve on their heart? She briefly imagined Tristan happily tearing the sleeve from his shirt to gift wrap his own heart and hand it to Destiny, who in turn cheered.

Yanni nodded to herself, humming. Yes. That was it.

“Wind told me how to find you,” the blonde catgirl said. She took to the opposite side of the one named Destiny, leaning her head against the crook of Destiny’s neck. “I was worried.”

“Lara, I’m okay,” Destiny insisted. “Really. I promise.”

Yanni watched Ravyn, and Ravyn watched the room. Her violet gaze met Yanni’s, then returned to Tristan and his companions, then came back to her.

“What are you doing?” Ravyn asked.

“I am observing,” Yanni said.

Ravyn frowned. “That’s kinda creepy. Can you come back later?”

“My sincerest apologies, but Mistress Emberlynn made it quite clear that I am to obey Tristan’s commands and no other. I hope you understand.”

Something between a groan and a gag escaped Ravyn’s lips, and Tristan chuckled.

“Actually, I was hoping you might be able to help me with something,” Tristan said, standing up.

He was short for a man and smiled much more in one day than she had ever witnessed with Cailu Raloquen. But Tristan carried a strange charm that Yanni struggled to put into words. Each word from his mouth was selected with care, and his face was incredibly expressive. He reminded Yanni of Emberlynn and her associates. Charismatic, intelligent, eloquent. Whether or not her assumptions of him were true, however, remained to be seen.

“I am at your service,” Yanni said, bowing at the waist.

“Would anyone in Zhuli be able to help me become a [Wizard]?”

Yanni blinked. “Yes, Tristan. Emberlynn has many [Wizard]s under her employ. If you would wish it, I will go to her immediately and relay your message.”

“That would be amazing.” Tristan reached forward. “I hope we’ll make great allies.”

Yanni observed his hand, noting how clean it was. His nails were perfectly clipped and trimmed, his skin smooth and soft and devoid of scars or wrinkles. No calluses or rigid edges to be found.

“Uh, is something wrong?” Tristan asked.

Yanni smiled and gently placed her fingers in his palm before shaking, using only the top half of her hand. “Nothing at all. I will go to the mistress at once.” She freed her fingers from his grasp, offered another curt bow, then exited into the hallway.

What fascinating people, she thought. At last, I have a chance to prove my worth to Mistress Emberlynn. I will see to it that she is properly represented.

Yanni strolled through the hall, rose up the stairs, and entered Emberlynn’s discussion chamber. She heard Emberlynn’s ragged coughs as she entered, closing the door behind her and marching to the room on her left. Emberlynn had a rag to her mouth while one of the handmaidens tended to her with a cool towel.

“Mistress Emberlynn,” Yanni said, bowing.

Emberlynn took three short breaths. “Yanni.”

“Pardon my intrusion, but Tristan has asked that he be trained to become a [Wizard].” She folded her hands and set them in her lap.

Emberlynn nodded, taking her time to reply. It was always like this. The handmaidens had grown used to it by now, but it still pained Yanni and the others to see such a powerful woman brought low by illness.

“I will see to it that he is trained by Alia.” She coughed, then steadied her breathing while a second handmaiden rubbed her back. “I will have her meet him later tonight. I would suggest you show them the rest of Zhuli in the meantime.”

“Of course,” Yanni said with a bow. While she had never undergone the test herself, Yanni had witnessed a [Wizard]’s training enough to know that it could only be practiced during the evening, when the stars were out and the magic of the moon was at its strongest. “I will return to him with haste.”

“Wait,” Emberlynn said just as Yanni’s hand reached the doorknob. She regarded Emberlynn over her shoulder. “Please protect my daughter. She may not show it often, but she has a kind heart. Knowing that she’s still alive gives me warmth.” She smiled. “I would hate for Sophia to grow up without a mother and a sister.”

Yanni nodded, then exited the room. The door clicked behind her, and she returned to the main room, where Sophia was running circles around Ravyn.

“Come on, let’s play!” Sophia giggled. “I can run, and you can chase! You can chase!”

“I don’t think—” Ravyn started.

“Squaaawk, chase Sophia, chase Sophia, squawk!” the bird on Ravyn’s shoulder—her familiar as Yanni understood it—encouraged. While Ravyn referred to the bird as Bally, she had also caught wind that it was short for Ball Gag.

Is a ball gag supposed to be something? A gag and a ball.

Yanni was familiar with gags. She knew of the gags which were jokes and playful jabs, and the gags used to silence those who tried to assassinate Mistress Emberlynn. The image of a catgirl choking on a ball and falling on her side dead played in front of her.

I must be misunderstanding something. I will ask Ravyn at a later time.

As she had earlier, she mentally bookmarked the event to use in conversation later.

“Ravyn’s getting tired, Sophie,” Ravyn groaned as Sophia spun her sister around by her hand.

“I run! You catch!” Sophia said. “Three, two, one, go!” She darted away in an instant, disappearing into the corridor behind her.

Ravyn put a hand on her hip, sighed, and then chased after her sister, disappearing into the same hallway.

How endearing.

Yanni descended the stairs and returned to the room earlier to see that Tristan and his remaining companions were still there, enjoying cups of tea. “I bring fortuitous news. Lady Alia will be your [Wizard] instructor.”

“That’s great!” Tristan said, rising to his feet. “Where should I meet her?”

“It will be here,” Yanni pointed at the floor. “However, such training cannot begin until evening has set, so you must wait. Mistress Emberlynn insists that I accompany you through Zhuli until then.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Tristan smiled at Destiny and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go walk around. Get some fresh air.” He looked over her shoulder at Lara next. “You too, Lara.”

Lara blinked, then smiled. “Okay.”

A hint of blush colored Destiny’s cheeks. Her hand trembled in his, though it was so subtle that Yanni wondered if she had imagined it. “I-I would like that very much,” Destiny said.

What a fine young man.

“Yanni, will you lead?” Tristan asked.

Yanni smiled. “I would very much like that. I can show you some of the finer places in Zhuli, if you so desire.”

“I’m sure you could. How about you take us to some of your favorite places instead?”

Yanni found his request strange. Few men ever wished to know what catgirls thought. Burying personal needs was necessary to ensure a proper society. It was for the greater good. Yanni fully accepted, and agreed, with such things. It was best to leave such concerns behind to avoid burdening the man. The field of battle was where words truly mattered, when anyone’s life could be lost in a moment. Tristan was so unlike Cailu Raloquen, who barked orders and commanded the obedience of those around him.

However, Yanni was not upset by Tristan’s words. “I would be happy to show you.”

“Great! Thank you so much. I’m very grateful for Emberlynn’s time and hospitality. I’m not sure how we would get through this without her and Ravyn.”

“Mistress Emberlynn is a wise woman,” Yanni said. “I hope that your conversation bore fruit.”

“I think it did. We’ll just have to see how things pan out from here.” Tristan looked at Destiny and Lara. “In the meantime, though, I think we could all use a break.”

“Shall I fetch Lady Ravyn as well?”

“Noooooo,” Lara said with an airy voice, shaking her head. Of all of Tristan’s companions, she was the strangest of them all. Her voice was soft and light and many of her words had an almost musical lilt, as if she were reciting them just as they popped into her head. “Her mom needs her here. That’s what Wind tells me.”

Yanni blinked. “Wind?”

“Wind talks to me. So do the other Elements. But Wind loves gossip, so she talks to me the most.”

Did I hear that correctly? Does this fully grown lady believe she can speak to the Elements? Sophia had claimed as much, but she was just a kitten.

It was a thought to ponder on later, but Yanni did not wish to insult Tristan.

“A wondrous gift,” Yanni said as she pictured a gust of wind spinning Lara around as it yelled gossip into her ear. Yanni’s ears flicked back, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You will need to tell me what Wind thinks of me sometime. I very much value the wind. Even as a little girl—”

“Wind is here right now,” Lara continued, “but she says she… erm, doesn’t really like you.”

Is this Lara’s way of telling me that she dislikes me? “That is a shame. Perhaps we will grow to respect one another with time.”

“She doubts that.”

Tristan scratched the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “Why don’t we get going? Daylight’s burning.”

“Yes, let’s!” Destiny said.

Tristan smiled, leading Destiny and Lara out of the room. Lara followed behind him, humming an offbeat tune while Yanni brought up the rear. Lara occasionally glanced back at Yanni, her expressions becoming more difficult to read with each glance.

Did I do something wrong to earn her ire?

It didn’t matter.

Like most thoughts, Yanni tucked and filed the idea into a fold of her mind where it could be easily retrieved, then followed Tristan and his Party out of Emberlynn’s estate and into the streets of Zhuli.

My first real Party with a man. I will not falter.

 

A note from DoubleBlind:

A huge thank you to SirJoe for sponsoring this Side Quest.

Another enormous thank you to ProfessorComputerMan for subscribing to Yomi's Tier on Patreon!

Side Quest: Secondhand Thread

Cailu methodically cleaned the blood from his sword as he gazed at the fresh corpse of the Encroacher. Where he once found excitement in the hunt and the smallest shred of vengeance in spilling the blood of monsters, there was no emotion to be had. True neutrality.

The thrill of the kill had left him.

San Island’s oppressive humidity sucked the sweat from his skin; beads gathered and trailed down his face and back as if he had run the island’s perimeter a dozen times instead of slaying a few measly beasts. While the leather of his armor did little to keep him cool, it was a far cry from the full plate he was accustomed to—this hellscape’s climate was simply another punishment for his egregious mistakes.

Suzume stepped forward and knelt, poring over the beast’s body with her hunting knife. He’d met the [Hunter] in Kyrenia, the Port City he had…arrived in. If there was aught of value, she would find it. Her dark armor cinched her slender waist, and she rested her tail to her side. Her black hair fell over her toned ivory shoulders as she worked, reawakening an image of Fera’s shapely back in the morning sunlight.

The first time he had laid his eyes on the only woman that had ever mattered to him was still just as vivid and precious a memory to him as when it occurred. The tall trees of San’s forests warped and twisted into the spires and columns of Castle Lifort. Prince Aluxio’s fortieth birthday was a farce of a celebration for one so young. Cailu’s expectations were tempered, but etiquette required he make a showing. Fera lingered by a trophy case in the main hall, nursing her wine glass for every drop as her glittering gaze measured each token. When Cailu gained the courage to ask her thoughts, a slow smile spread across her face.

“Is a man only measured by the lives that he’s claimed?”

The illusion shattered when Suzume glanced over her shoulder. Dark, almond eyes studied Cailu’s face, and her lips pulled into a thin line. Her hands hovered just above the half-carved scales, hesitating. “Shall I step aside?” she asked.

“No. Continue your work,” Cailu snapped.

Suzume shrugged and returned her focus to the carve.

Cailu swallowed the memory, drinking the rising emotions threatening to overtake him like poison. He sheathed his sword before he summoned the iPaw. A fortnight spent in this wretched nightmare, and he still did not understand the inner workings of such a device. The sapphire-haired siren that called herself ‘Ai’ appeared.

“How may I help you, [User Cailu]?” Ai asked.

“What is my current ranking?”

Ai blinked. “I do not understand your question.”

Cailu frowned. It seemed this vixen enjoyed toying with him, though she pled constant naïveté. “Why force me to use a terminology that makes little sense?”

“Nyarlean language and terminology have been in existence for thousands of years, [User Cailu]. Approximately fifteen times longer than you have existed, if my research is correct,” Ai said. Her expression was blank, but a stern undertone brushed her words.

Ice trickled into Cailu’s veins. Too many years had he suffered spies in politics, eyes where they did not belong. “How would you know this?”

“That is not relevant, [User Cailu].” Ai pursed her lips. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

This was going nowhere. Anger melted the cold paranoia he had felt just seconds prior. “What is my current Level?” he snarled.

Suzume stood and turned to face him, pocketing her final treasure. The conversations between Cailu and the iPaw were somehow concealed from her, but his tone caught her feline ear. It twitched in his direction as she narrowed her eyes.

“Your current Base Level is 12. Your current Crusader Class Level is 2.”

Cailu’s brow furrowed. “Two? I have slaughtered hundreds of these…Encroachers since my transition.”

Ai shook her head. “If it is the three hundred and twenty-four zilthar you speak of, they are unfit for a Second Class.”

“Then how do I…” What was the correct term? “…Advance faster?”

“If you wish to increase your Level at a greater pace, you must find more challenging enemies. Or,” Ai vanished from the screen, “you will be generously rewarded for pursuing your second task in Nyarlea.”

For the third time since his arrival, the nauseating pink square returned, carrying its loathsome message. Consummate with five of these feral creatures referred to as catgirls. He glanced over the top of the iPaw at Suzume. She watched in silent curiosity, knowing better than to speak while he was occupied. Her face was pleasant enough, but she was little more than a means to an end—a second sword for him to wield. There was little else he could see her as, let alone…

Ai interrupted his thoughts. “Five successful pairings with catgirls will net you 1 Base Level and 1 Class Level. Many men have accomplished this inside of three days,” she explained over the display. “Incidentally, this is also the number of days you have spent hunting zilthar.” The square vanished, and Ai reappeared. “It is your decision.”

His gloved grip tightened around the iPaw. The strange material was thin, but it held firm. “You say this is my ‘second task’ as if this world’s next generation falls upon me.”

Was she smiling? “I thought I had made that abundantly clear. It does fall to you, [User Cailu].”

“And if I decline?”

“Such a decision would be in violation of Nyarlean Law. Should a man be reported missing or abstaining from his duties, the Queen’s Guard would be summoned to recall and rehabilitate him.”

A low growl vibrated in Cailu’s throat. “‘Rehabilitate’?”

Ai nodded, but no further explanation was offered.

“Where can I find more powerful enemies?”

Ai shook her head. “Nyarlea is for you to explore, [User Cailu]. Encroachers move and graze depending on food and water availability. You may wish to ask your Party.”

Dozens of furious retorts took their time on his tongue. What was this woman’s use? Why was he cursed to this existence? But none of them would gain him ground. “That will be all.”

“As you wish, [User Cailu].”

Suzume crossed her arms over her chest and watched the iPaw vanish from Cailu’s hands. “You seem distraught.”

Cailu forced back a laugh. What would this creature know of being ‘distraught’? Everything that mattered was lost. Fera, Heiki, his home, his companions. Betrayal’s venomous blade had stolen it away without a second thought. “Where can I find beasts that present a higher challenge?”

Suzume studied the Encroacher’s blood embedded into her fingernails. “There are at least three Defiled on the outskirts of Shulan. They destroyed hundreds of acres of farmland and went into hiding.”

“Defiled?” Cailu tried to recall if Suzume or Ai had mentioned the term before. Possibly, but their information was thin and constantly veiled with self-conceit. It seemed he was just as much of a tool to them as they were to him.

“The Defiled are monstrous, far more powerful than any Encroacher,” Suzume explained with a sigh that belayed repetition. “However, as I’ve mentioned before, if you wish to take on a Defiled, you will need a competent healer.”

“A healer would insinuate that I take a blow from this creature.”

Suzume’s eyes widened by a fraction, and she locked his gaze. “Or me, Cailu. If either one of us are wounded by a Defiled, it could mean a quick death without a healer.”

Cailu recalled the two wars in which he’d been a participant; one as a soldier, the second as first captain. Healers were the last to be deployed in areas where most of the fighting had died down. They trailed behind and offered little in the way of offensive expertise or assistance on the front lines. “Can we not seek a healer when we are through?”

Her frown deepened. “You’ve commanded my respect since you arrived, Cailu, but now I wish to speak freely.”

Cailu bristled with her disregard for his family name and standard honorific. Perhaps it was time to find a more suitable member for his Party. “Then speak.”

“The last man on San Island’s inaction nearly brought us to ruin. The Queen’s Guard spared a handful of soldiers and only managed to kill one of the many Defiled plaguing Shulan before they were recalled to Ronona.”

“The previous man was a coward, then. I fail to see how this relates to me.”

Her hands balled into fists at her side. “Inaction and practiced ignorance are one and the same.”

Cailu’s brow furrowed, and the heat of his anger returned. “You tread too far—”

“No. Not far enough.” Suzume sliced a hand through the air, cutting his words short. “If you want to charge ahead and get yourself killed, that is your choice. Maybe the next man will be able to fulfill his duties to Nyarlea. But cut me free from your Party if my advice means nothing to you. I will not die at the hands of a fool.”

He snatched her wrist and snapped her forward, forcing her into a proximity reserved for lovers and men he put to death. “The only fool in this exchange is you, Suzume. You know nothing of what I’m capable of.”

“I’ve watched you kill hundreds of Encroachers and feel nothing,” she snarled. “You wear the expression of one who’s put thousands to death. Tell me, Cailu, how many lives have you saved?”

Fera’s voice echoed in his ears. It was the same question she’d asked him so long ago in Castle Lifort’s great hall with that easy, knowing smile.

He spat a curse and shoved Suzume away. She stumbled backward, her boot catching on the Encroacher’s corpse and sending her to the ground with a yelp. He watched in silence as she gathered herself and rose to her feet.

“Saoirse’s hymns proclaim that men are to be placed beside the goddess herself.” She sneered and wiped her palms across her thighs. “But Finn was a coward, and you’re more of a monster than the roaches, Cailu. Who will Saoirse bring us next, I wonder?”

“Leave, Suzume,” Cailu snarled. “Crawl back to Kyrenia and shovel horse shit until the end of your days.”

“Gladly.” Suzume brushed her hair away from her face, turned on her heel, and vanished between the trees.

How many lives have you saved?

Cailu bellowed, drew his sword from its scabbard, and buried the blade between the remaining scales of the Encroacher’s corpse.

Three more days it took to travel alone to Shulan, and Cailu dispatched everything in his path.

Well. Almost everything.

When he came face-to-face with his first Defiled, Cailu realized with a bitter rage that Suzume had been right. Fighting them on his own would earn him a quick death.

The enormous monster had dozens of human arms attached to a long, insect-like body. It screamed in a language Cailu could somehow understand, chilling him to the bone. Its speed was otherworldly, and when it parted its razor-sharp mandibles, it blew fire. He’d managed to wound it enough to escape, but not before it bit a sizeable chunk from his thigh.

And so, he limped past the gates of Shulan, ignoring the guards offering to find him assistance. Inside were thousands of curious catgirls, stopping in their tracks to watch him. Three tried to approach, but one sharp glance in their direction was enough to hold them at bay.

“Did you kill it? The stonoga?” a voice asked from his left. He glanced over his shoulder at a silver-haired catgirl with golden eyes. Her dark skin was a stark contrast to the tendrils pulled away from her face into a tight bun at the base of her neck.

Cailu grunted and continued walking. He did not have the time nor the energy for a conversation filled with unfamiliar colloquialisms.

She wrinkled her nose and fell into step with his limped gait. “The stonoga. The Defiled that sampled your leg. I’d recognize that wound anywhere.”

“No. It still lives,” he replied, not bothering to meet her gaze.

“Damn it,” she cursed softly. She fell into a contemplative silence, watching Cailu walk while she matched his pace. Just before he could ask the cretin what she wanted, she spoke. “I can heal your leg for free if you allow me to join you in hunting it.”

“I have the coin to pay for a healer,” he snapped.

“Most of the girls in Shulan don’t know how to extract the stonoga’s venom from a wound. Go somewhere else, and you’re likely to lose your leg.”

Was this a jest? How many of these simpletons would parade their knowledge over him like monarchs?

She skipped ahead and stopped in front of him, barring his path. “You don’t have to keep me in your Party. Just this one task. That Defiled killed my daughter.”

Cailu hesitated and the pain in his leg flickered with the tightening of his chest. Heiki’s elated squeals echoed in his ears, and he hissed in a breath.

No. What did it matter if this creature’s offspring had suffered such a fate? “I—”

“Look. Let me fix your leg, and then you can decide.” She held up a hand. “You’re going to pass out in the street if I don’t, and that won’t help anyone.”

Cailu frowned. Ignoring Suzume’s advice had brought him here. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he needed this woman’s assistance. “Fine.”

A tiny smile of relief twitched at the corners of her mouth and warmed her gaze. “Good. I’m Talia.”

“Cailu Raloquen, first of his name,” Cailu replied.

“Quite the title, Cailu. Come on.” She waved a hand and led him deeper into the crowd.

Cailu could not find the motivation to retort against her informality. He sighed and followed her, giving no response to the stares and whispers that surrounded him.

“Is that the new man?”

“He’s so handsome—”

“Look at his ears!”

“And he looks so much older than Finn.”

“Good. We don’t need another man hiding away.”

He hated gossip. Whether it was within the royal courts or between his new recruits. But there was little he could do for it now beyond ignore it.

“In here.” Talia turned left and led him inside one of the modest dwellings lining the streets.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as she lit the various lanterns inside the common room. As she moved to the sink on the back wall, Cailu swept his gaze over her home.

It was small. Very small. The entire building would have easily fit inside two bedrooms of Cailu and Fera’s west wing, and the main room contained very few pieces of furniture. A circular table with two wooden chairs was placed in the kitchen area, and cushions were strewn around the front room in place of a settee. On the walls hung varying sizes of parchment, covered in colored paints depicting childish versions of buildings, catgirls, and Encroachers.

Daddy! I drew a pukwudgie! Heiki beamed over her newest painting.

“They’re all I have left of Kasi,” Talia murmured. She moved to stand next to Cailu with a bowl in one hand and a rolled cloth in the other. She nodded to a piece on the far left. “That one’s my favorite.” Two figures stood side by side, clasping hands. “It’s supposed to be us.”

Cailu nodded. Exhaustion was making him sentimental. He needed to rest.

“I’m sorry. I’m rambling. Please, have a seat.” She gestured toward the table, and Cailu complied, glad to take one of the wooden chairs. If he took a seat on the floor, it was likely he wouldn’t stand back up.

Talia knelt beside him, unrolling the cloth to reveal a selection of metal instruments. “I’ll need to cut more of your trousers away, but I have a friend who can make you a new pair.”

Cailu frowned. “At an exorbitant price, is it?”

She pulled a sharp blade from her kit with a chuckle. “You aren’t very trusting, are you?”

Cailu grunted, then hissed when she pulled the fabric from the wound. The burning was renewed, and sweat beaded along his forehead.

“You may have to worry about that on Ichi Island, but San has always given men a steep discount on their wares,” she explained as she worked.

“Why Ichi?” Cailu had learned of the other islands and the capital of Nyarlothep from Ai but knew very little beyond their names and locations.

“The new man there…” Talia looked up at Cailu’s face, then pursed her lips and selected another tool. “No, pardon me. I should not speak ill of him.”

As she patted away the blood and used a second implement to draw a purple liquid from his skin, Cailu pushed the issue to stay awake. This cursed [Energy] pool threatened to empty the more he bit back the pain. “Are your opinions of this man biased, then?”

Talia smiled. “Maybe. Ichi’s thrived under the reign of one woman for over a decade. The changes this new man has made are…drastic. I moved here with Kasi just over a month ago.” Her silver, feline ears flattened against her head. “But it may have been better if we stayed.”

“You could not have foreseen—” Cailu stopped himself. Was he truly trying to comfort this stranger? He hissed as she dribbled a new tonic over his thigh. It added a sharp throb to the already burning wound.

“I know. But thank you,” Talia whispered, then took a deep breath. “Alright, now I need to concentrate.”

Were you not concentrating before? Cailu watched as she framed the wound with both hands and bowed her head.

“Saoirse, please grant me a modicum of your power and allow me to heal your chosen. I beseech you,” Talia prayed.

A warm, white glow emanated from her fingers, surrounding the tattered skin on Cailu’s leg. The rent flesh twitched and moved, growing over the open bite as if it had come alive. Cailu’s breath caught. What witchcraft was this? A power like this was reserved for the gods alone, not insolent creatures.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

“Helping you.” Talia glanced up, knitting her brow in confusion. Her fingers dimmed. “I’m a [Priest], Cailu. A healer.” Her lips parted, and understanding dawned on her face. “Saoirse just delivered you, didn’t she?”

“I beg your pardon?” Was this goddess a tangible being? He did not recall an ushering from a catgirl into this world. Only a swift death at the hands of Prince Maël and opening his eyes on San Island.

“How long have you been on San Island?”

“Three days more than a fortnight,” Cailu replied. When she cocked her head and waited, he sighed. “Seventeen days.”

Talia nodded, then looked back at the wound and refocused as she spoke. The light returned to her hands. “Many Classes use their [Myana Points] gifted by Saoirse for magic. Like healing, for example. But others use it for offensive Spells.”

Why? Why was there so much to learn in this world? Why did Ai shirk her duties as an apparent guide? “I see.”

“I’m rambling again. Sorry.” She lifted her hands and reached for a fresh roll of bandages. “We can discuss this later if you’d like. Or,” she wrapped the bandages around his thigh and leaned back on the balls of her feet, “you’re free to leave when you’re feeling better.”

Cailu inspected her work. The pain had dulled significantly, and the bleeding had stopped at last. Whatever dark forces she had called upon, they had helped, and her knowledge of field medicine was impressive. “Thank you, Talia.”

A pink hue touched her cheeks, and she looked away. “You’re welcome.” She stood and cleaned her bowl and tools from the floor. “I’ll…go run you a bath and make us something to eat.”

For the briefest of moments, touches of familiarity painted the scene—a warm home, a loving family, a safe abode. However, when Talia turned and disappeared down the hallway, her slender tail flicked back and forth between her ankles, splintering any fancies of comfort.

This was not home. He would never be home again.

A wound that should have taken a week to heal mended over the next two days. Talia’s magic was formidable, indeed, and made Cailu reconsider Suzume’s demand for a healer.

He took the time to explore more of Shulan, taking a mental inventory of shops and landmarks, and introducing himself to the Guild Hall. Within a few conversations, he’d learned that Finn’s disappearance had caused significant damage to San Island’s farms, grown the Defiled threat, hurt their population, and spread the island’s warriors thin amongst the cities. One incompetent man’s choices brought ruin to so many.

The thrill of the hunt may have evaporated, but the tiniest spark of something urged Cailu to press on. To rebuild.

Reshape this world.

The tailor Talia had suggested was able to craft him a new pair of trousers in a day’s time and didn’t empty his [Cat Pack]—a ridiculous name for a satchel, enchanted or not—of Bells. On the fourth day staying with Talia, he readied a hefty pouch of coin for her assistance and hospitality and joined her for breakfast.

“I want you to take this,” Cailu said, setting the pouch at the center of the table. “I depart for Ichi tomorrow.”

Talia studied the sizable bag and then crossed her arms. “Ichi?”

Cailu nodded. “I believe if the men work together, then purging Defiled threats and rebuilding cities will be more manageable.” He’d found himself more at ease with speaking to Talia over the last days. She was open with her thoughts and answered his questions without the dark undertones he recognized in Ai and Suzume.

“What about the stonoga?”

“I will find a second capable fighter to join us, and we will dispatch it upon my return.” Cailu raised a hand before she could speak. “In my last encounter, I left it with significant wounds. Shulan will be safe.”

Talia chewed her lower lip, then pushed the pouch toward Cailu. “I offered to help you for free, remember? You don’t owe me anything.”

He left the pouch on the table and studied her. Silver rings adorned her ears, and a jade clip held her hair away from her soft face. For what she was, Talia was beautiful. And yet, he still could not find the familiar stir he’d only felt once in his two hundred years.

She blushed. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

How am I supposed to do this, Fera? Ai had called it his second duty. But everything about it broke every sacred vow he’d made in his prior life. “I wonder if you could do me one last favor?” He forced the words out before he could stop them.

Talia tilted her head to the side, and her ears perked forward. “Hm?”

Cailu stood and took Talia’s hand, pulling her to stand with him. He cupped her face in one hand and searched her curious gaze. Then he kissed her.

Gods, forgive me.

Despite the night’s exertions, Cailu couldn’t sleep.

Talia had her arms around his waist, her naked chest pressed against his. Her tail was wrapped around his calf, and her breathing was slow and steady. Cailu watched the moon’s journey across the starry sky, allowing the whirlwind of emotions that plagued him to each take their time on his heart. Betrayal, disgust, frustration, hopelessness. Each inhale was a stab to his heart; his exhales a prayer for forgiveness.

Would this ever grow easier?

He pictured telling Heiki about her cat-eared siblings. She would squeal in disbelief and paint them all in her image.

And Fera… What would she say?

Cailu looked at Talia sleeping soundly next to him. Another child. Just one of five he needed to help create to gain another Level.

Four more…

This world was not his own. He would not have a gentle hand in raising his children—kittens, they called them. The Guild Hall touted nyannies, and many women seemed to enjoy raising their own. A man must fight, protect, procreate.

Fatherhood carried a very different meaning in Nyarlea.

When the first hints of orange appeared on the horizon, Cailu carefully untangled himself from Talia and slid from her bed. He dressed in silence and gathered his things but left the Bells on the table.

Be well, Talia.

Cailu closed the door and marched down the empty streets of Shulan. He would slay the stonoga with a Party of his own, but Talia would not be a part of it. His daughter would not be part of it.

And he would not be part of her.