《Girl King》


 Lacey Everknight

    I: Lacey Everknight


    The morning sun barely warms the streets of Ashvale as I walk through the market, my dark gray ripped shawl slipping off my shoulders. I tug it back into place, trying to ignore the chill clinging to the cobblestones beneath my feet. My boots have definitely seen better days, but they are all I have. My mom has been up before dawn, tending to the garden and my little sister back at home, leaving me to explore the morning market. ¡°Five for the bread,¡± the baker says, his gaze lingering on me. I swallow the lump in my throat and hand over the few coins left in my pouch. This is how it has always been for my family, barely getting by and often overlooked. But even in the dullness of it all, I can¡¯t help but appreciate the rare moments of peace. As I tuck the bread under my arm and turn to leave the market, a familiar voice cuts through the crowd.


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to try harder than that if you want a discount, Lamberra,¡± Lacey teases, falling into step beside me. The daughter of Lord Wendell Everknight wears her status like a second skin, her fine cloak soaked in purple and gold sweeping the ground as she walks. Two knights by her side. For a brief moment, I can¡¯t help but envy the ease with which she moves through the world. ¡°I don¡¯t think the baker¡¯s heart is that soft,¡± I mutter, adjusting my shawl tighter around my shoulders to cover up my cleavage as best I can. Lacey laughs, flicking a strand of her coppery hair out of her eyes. ¡°Not everyone¡¯s heart, no. But yours is.¡± She glances at the bread in my arms and raises an eyebrow. ¡°Is that for your family?¡±


    ¡°Of course it is,¡± I shoot back, my voice sharper than I intended. I don¡¯t need her pity, even if she is my friend, oddly enough. For all her warmth, she can never fully grasp the weight of my reality. Most people¡¯s reality. ¡°Well, good,¡± she replies, her expression softening. ¡°You know I can help you and your family. However, I, on the other hand, could use a drink.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you could,¡± I say, rolling my eyes and ignoring the comment about her charity, though a small laugh escapes me. As we walk side by side, the bustling market of Ashvale fades into the background. We approach the slums, the poorest part of Ashvale and the entirety of the Ravenwood Lordship. We pass by the elves who mostly live here, but there are other humans, too. ¡°Well, I am off. My lord father requires me on this Friday morning. I¡¯ll see you tonight, yes? At the tavern?¡± Lacey asks, grinning. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll be there, but I can¡¯t buy¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop it. That is never an issue,¡± Lacey says, shushing me, her finger briefly brushing my lips, the gesture both teasing and affectionate. I roll my eyes, but a small laugh escapes me. Before I can muster a retort, she vanishes into the crowd. I almost yell for her but decide not to waste my energy. As Lacey vanishes into the crowd, her laughter still echoing in my ears, I take a deep breath, clutching the bread tightly. I navigate through throngs of people, all busy with their own lives. The vibrant colors of the stalls blur together. The store I need now, the apothecary, sits at the edge of our neighborhood, a small, unassuming building that looks as worn as the people who frequent it. The scent of dried herbs and spices wafts through the air, mingling with the less pleasant odors of the streets. I push open the door, the small bell jingling above me, and step inside. The shop is dimly lit, filled with shelves of glass jars containing various powders, dried plants, and elixirs. Old Mister Finch looks up from behind the counter, his bushy eyebrows rising in surprise. ¡°Ah, Lamberra! What brings you here today?¡± he asks, his voice shaky yet warm.


    ¡°Good morning, Mister Finch. Mama needs some more lavender for her herbs,¡± I reply, scanning the shelves for the familiar purple buds. He nods, slowly rising from his chair. I watch him shuffle around the counter. ¡°Lavender, eh? Good for calming the nerves. I have just the thing.¡± He retrieves a jar from a shelf and hands it to me. ¡°How is your mother? Haven¡¯t seen her in a few weeks,¡± he asks. As I weigh the jar in my hands, I can¡¯t help but think about Lacey and her life at the castle. Her father¡¯s wealth, her opportunities, she has everything. I sometimes wonder why she bothers with me, why she steps into my world when she has everything she could ever need. But no matter how hard I push her away, she always comes back. ¡°Lamberra?¡± Mister Finch asks, breaking my concentration.


    ¡°Oh! She¡¯s fine. Had a slight cold, but she¡¯s better now!¡± I say, laughing nervously. ¡°Good, tell her to stop by soon. Anything else you need, my dear?¡± Mister Finch asks. I shake my head, realizing I¡¯ve become lost in my thoughts. ¡°No, just the lavender, please.¡± After exchanging the rest of my coins for the jar, I leave the shop and head home. The streets begin to thin out as I enter the quieter neighborhood, where the houses stand in disrepair. The air is heavier here, filled with the sounds of distant crying and laughter from children playing in the streets. When I finally reach my home, I find my mother, Selma, sitting on the porch with my little sister, Amara. Selma¡¯s dark gray hair is tied back in a messy braid. She looks exhausted but content as she watches Amara play with a few wildflowers.¡°Look, Mama! I made a crown!¡± Amara beams, placing the flowers atop her head. Mama smiles, her eyes softening as she admires Amara''s handiwork. ¡°You look like a true princess, my love.¡±


    I feel a warmth spread through me at the sight of them together. ¡°I¡¯m back!¡± I call out, holding up the jar of lavender and bread. ¡°I got things for us, Mama.¡± Her gaze shifts to me, and her smile widens. ¡°Thank you, Lamberra! You always know how to help out the most.¡± As I step onto the porch, I set the lavender and bread down and kneel beside Amara, admiring the crown of flowers. ¡°You¡¯re quite the artist, you know.¡± Amara giggles, brushing her fingers through the flowers. ¡°I¡¯m going to wear it when the King visits next week! Everyone will see me!¡±


    ¡°Of course, they will,¡± I say, a hint of pride swelling in my chest. ¡°You¡¯ll be the most beautiful girl in Ashvale. The king would be a fool if he didn¡¯t recognize it. ¡± But even as I say it, a flicker of doubt lingers at the back of my mind. Amara deserves more than just our small home and the meager life we lead. I pray we both escape the slums one day. ¡°How was the market, dear?¡± I hear Mama ask me.


    ¡°It was good. Ran into Lacey again,¡± I reply, trying to brush it off. ¡°Lacey? Why does that highborn girl keep bothering you? It was really sweet what she did for you, but I cannot keep getting embarrassed by her sudden appearances.¡±


    ¡°I know, Mama. I can¡¯t control it. She just shows up.¡± I stand, fatigue weighing heavily on my shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m tired. I didn¡¯t get much sleep last night.¡± I feel Mama¡¯s hand grip my arm gently, her soft brown eyes searching mine. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything foolish, okay?¡± I don¡¯t respond, feeling insulted by such an assumption. With a sigh, I retreat into Amara''s and my room, seeking solace in the dim light. As I settle onto the small bed, my eyelids grow heavy, the day¡¯s troubles melting away. I drift slowly into a dream.


    Suddenly, I find myself in the dimly lit tavern, laughter and shouts swirling around me as I sit at a rough-hewn table, the scent of ale and smoke thick in the air. My heart races, fueled by the warmth of too many drinks. I don¡¯t remember how I got here, but the clinking of mugs and the raucous banter feel like an escape from reality. ¡°Another round?¡± the bartender asks, a knowing glint in his eye. I nod, feeling emboldened by the drink. The room sways slightly as I take another gulp, the laughter around me growing louder, the faces blurring together. I catch sight of an elderly gentleman watching me from across the room. His gaze lingers a bit too long, and I feel the hair on my arm stand up. He saunters over, a crooked smile plastered on his face. ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you a pretty one,¡± he says, his voice gravelly. ¡°What¡¯s a girl like you doing in a place like this? I¡¯ve never seen you before.¡±


    ¡°Just enjoying a drink, trying to forget the realities of this world,¡± I reply, attempting to sound nonchalant, but my voice wavers. ¡°Ha! Aren¡¯t we all? Say, how old are you?¡± he asks. His breath reeks of beer and shit as he leans closer, the scent of stale tobacco and sweat overwhelming me. ¡°How about I buy you another? I can show you a good time.¡± Suddenly aware of how isolated I am, my heart races as I push away from the bar. ¡°No, thank you. I think I¡¯ll just¡ª¡± But before I can escape, he grabs my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be shy. I promise I can make it worth your while.¡± Panic rises in my chest as he drags me toward the back door. ¡°Let go of me!¡± I protest, my voice sharp, but the noise of the tavern swallows my words. I fight against him, but he pulls me into a dark alley, the sounds of the tavern fading behind us. ¡°Just a little fun, that¡¯s all,¡± he insists, his breath hot against my neck. Why did nobody inside stop this? In a burst of panic, I push against him, but he shoves me back, and I stumble drunkenly, falling to the ground. My shawl slips, exposing my undergarments. ¡°You¡¯re making a mistake!¡± I shout, scrambling to my feet. But he lunges at me again, and I shove him away, my fists swinging. ¡°Get off me!¡± I scream, desperation fueling my fight. This time, he slaps me across the face with so much force that my ears immediately start ringing. The world spins around me, and I find myself on the ground in the middle of this pitch-black alley, feeling the cold air on my backside and the sound of something unbuckling. My heart races as I twist in his grip, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Each time I push, he pulls me closer, the alley spinning around me. His breath reeks of sour wine, and the world narrows to the darkened street and his crushing hold.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    As I feel the rest of strength leaving me, I hear the unmistakable sound of heavy boots approaching. The man¡¯s  eyes widen in fear as he turns to see three knights of the royal army striding toward us. ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± one of them demands, his voice steady and commanding. ¡°He¡¯s trying to¡ª¡± I begin, slurring my words, but a knight raises a hand, motioning for me to stay quiet. The man quickly drops his hold on me, stumbling back. ¡°I¡ªI was just talking to the girl!¡± he sputters. ¡°Talking?¡± the knight scoffs, taking a step forward. ¡°Looks more like you were trying to get something wet.¡± The knights, clad in the royal army¡¯s red cloaks adorned with the burning red arrow insignia on their armor, restrain the man, pulling him away as he protests. ¡°This is a misunderstanding! Let me go!¡± Once they drag him off, I lean against the wall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I feel vulnerable, exposed, and ashamed, trembling as the cool night air bites at my skin, pulling me back to reality. Just then, I spot a girl standing a few paces away, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. She stands tall, her posture exuding confidence despite the chaos around us. Her copper-brown hair cascades down her back in soft waves, catching the dim light. A finely tailored gown of deep emerald clings to her figure, accentuating her graceful curves and hinting at her high status. Golden eyes, vibrant and piercing, survey the scene with fierce intensity that oddly calms. ¡°I saw everything,¡± she says, her voice steady yet soft. ¡°I was worried about you.¡±


    ¡°Who¡­ who are you? Why do you care?¡± I''m still slurring my words, feeling dizzy from the alcohol. ¡°I¡¯m Lacey Everknight, daughter of Lord Wendell Everknight. I was in the tavern with my guards, trying to get an idea of the people I will one day rule,¡± she states, placing her hands on her hips with confidence. I feel my eyes widen, and before I can speak, I suddenly throw up on her. ¡°Oh my god, I am so sorry, my liege! Please allow me to go!¡± I say frantically.  Lacey steps closer, her golden eyes searching mine, and for a moment, the intensity softens. ¡°All is forgiven. You¡¯re safe now. Let¡¯s get you home.¡± I feel her warm hands grace my shoulders, my dark brown eyes connecting her eyes of gold. As we walk side by side, I feel her striking presence steadying me. One knight walks ahead of us, and another follows behind. The night is pitch black as we enter the slums, where no lights illuminate the streets like they do in the city. I wonder if she has ever experienced such darkness.


    I jolt awake with Amara jumping on top of me. ¡°Dinner time!¡± she yells, grinning. I blink against the sunlight filtering through our small window, my heart racing from the remnants of my dream. The warmth of the afternoon sun wraps around me like a comforting blanket. ¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯m up!¡± I groan, pushing Amara off me and sitting up. She giggles, her laughter brightening the room. I take a moment to gather myself. As I stand and stretch, the familiar scents of cooked vegetables and bread waft through the air, making my stomach rumble. ¡°What¡¯s for dinner?¡± I ask. ¡°Soup and bread! Your favorite!¡± Amara exclaims, bouncing on her toes with excitement. I can¡¯t help but smile at her enthusiasm; it¡¯s infectious. ¡°Mhmm. Is that tomato soup I smell?¡± I say smiling, already knowing the answer. ¡°Then let¡¯s not keep Mama waiting,¡± I reply, ruffling her bleach blonde hair as I make my way to the kitchen. The simple act of preparing for dinner feels grounding, reminding me of the joys in my everyday life. It¡¯s always the little things.


    As I step into the kitchen, the warmth of the hearth envelops me, and I see Mama stirring the pot over the fire. She glances up at me with a tired smile, her dark hair loosely tied back, strands of gray peeking through. The weight of her life shows on her face, but she¡¯s always found a way to keep us together, no matter how tight things become. ¡°Finally decided to join us?¡± Mama teases, her voice soft but with a hint of fatigue. I chuckle, moving to help her with the pot. ¡°Blame Amara for waking me up so late.¡±


    ¡°Always the troublemaker,¡± Mama says fondly, giving Amara a playful glare before handing me the ladle to serve the soup. I dip it into the pot, and the rich smell of tomato fills the air, making my mouth water. I usually only eat once a day, so when it¡¯s time to eat it wouldn¡¯t be a lie to say it¡¯s the one of the more exciting parts of my day. As we sit at the table together, the usual chatter begins. Amara talking about her day, her excitement about the smallest things, filling the room with a joy that somehow makes the weight on my chest lift, even if just for a moment. Between the laughter, there¡¯s an underlying tension I can¡¯t shake. I keep glancing at Mama, noticing how her hands tremble slightly as she lifts her spoon. I wonder if it¡¯s just exhaustion or something more. We¡¯ve all felt the strain lately, though. Money is tight, work is nonexistent, making the future seem unattainable. As I take a bite of bread, my gaze drifts out the window, the distant sounds of the town creeping in through the open shutters. ¡°Mama?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Yes dear?¡± her soft voice responds.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t I try to get a job at the castle? Perhaps as a maid. That way, you can rest and we all can stop worrying about money?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Mama¡¯s voice cut the air like a fresh forged sword. ¡°Don¡¯t ever ask again.¡± Her face is pale white. My eyes are unable to meet hers.


    ¡°Mama, I am an adult now. I don¡¯t want to keep doing odd jobs for people like Mr. Finch.¡±


    ¡°Good, maybe you¡¯ll help me with the garden then and we actually make that successful.¡± She said, still not looking at me.


    ¡°We both know it will never be successful,¡± I mumble. I know Mama heard me, but she chose not to reply. Amara looking at both of us without saying a word. ¡°Well,¡± I say standing up with barely any food eaten. ¡°I am going to leave, as I am an adult and can do as I please,¡± I feel my stomach nagging at me. I start to walk out the door and I feel Mama grab me, ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid,¡± her eyes piercing my soul. I yanked my arm from her grasp and ignored her comment. Looks like I¡¯m gonna go to the tavern a bit earlier. I exit out the door and see the dusky sky light by a half moon. This isn¡¯t what I wanted to wear, but I cannot understand why Mama gets so bent when it comes to the castle and especially Lacey. Perhaps she has an issue with highborn, I mean I get it. They look down on us as if we shouldn¡¯t exist. My people starve to death during the summer and freeze to death during the winter all while they eat the finest meals with a fire by them year round. However, I do enjoy Lacey¡¯s company, even if she is oblivious to everything right in front of her. ¡°Hey, Lamberra!¡± that high pitched voice can only be one person.


    ¡°Hey, Belli.¡± I say, not missing a stride on my walk into town. Belli is one of the elfen leaders of the slums. Quite young, similar to my age but replaced her father when he died fighting a pointless war several years ago.


    ¡°Where ya headin to? Need an escort during these scary hours?¡±  Her voice chuckles with ease. Her long red hair just above her back end and bright blue eyes always seems to light the way.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay. Just heading to town to escape a bit. Perhaps get a little tipsy,¡± I say lightheartedly.


    ¡°Understand that. Unfortunately I can¡¯t do that as most folks hate our kind. I only drink in the comforts of my home.¡± She replies in an upbeat tone.


    ¡°Well, you do have the nicest home in the slums, being a leader and all,¡± I tease.


    ¡°You betcha! Say, I know you¡¯re busy tonight but come over soon to my place. I would love your company!¡±


    ¡°Of course, let¡¯s plan on it,¡± I tell her, holding my arm out. She grabs it and smiles at me. An agreement in place now.


    I walk into town and pass the now closed markets. The closer I get to the town center, the more torches I pass. The clatter and music grows louder and louder and as I turn the corner I see three knights with the burning arrow insignia. One moves and there she is in all her beauty and strength, Lacey Everknight.

 Healing Magic

    ¡°Lamberra! You¡¯re actually on time?¡± Lacey shouts, her voice rising above the noise of the crowd ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Lacey. I¡¯m just...tired. It¡¯s been a long day,¡± I murmur, resting my head on her shoulder, letting the weight of it all sink in. My awful bed, the lack of good food, and no hope for the future. Lacey¡¯s the only person I can let my guard down around. Not my best friend, maybe, but the only one I trust.


    ¡°What happened?¡± she asks, her tone instantly soft with concern.


    ¡°Can we skip the drinks tonight? I just...need to talk,¡± I say, my voice barely louder than a whisper. Before I can fully explain, Lacey pulls back and gives a sharp snap of her fingers. One of her knights is at her side in an instant. I try to catch what she¡¯s saying, but the noise around us: the music, the chatter of people crowding Whitewash Alley drowns it all out. ¡°Come,¡± Lacey says, her hand gently touching my arm. I follow her without question, weaving through the crowded streets, and soon I realize we¡¯re heading toward Dunwood Castle, Lacey¡¯s home. The closer we get, the more knights appear, all bowing in respect. Not just to her. To me as well.  ¡°You¡¯re an honored guest tonight!¡± Lacey teases, a playful glint in her eyes as she glances back at me. Before long, we stop outside an inn, its grand fa?ade gleaming even in the dim light. It¡¯s easily the finest inn in the entire lordship. ¡°Lacey...why are we here?¡± I ask, bewildered by the sudden change in scenery.


    ¡°Simple. This inn has everything¡ªa kitchen, a bar, and a private room for us. And the best part? It¡¯s all free when they see me.¡± Lacey flashes me a knowing smile, and I can¡¯t help but feel a little embarrassed for my ignorance. I¡¯ve never been here before, never been this close to Dunwood Castle. Every time I venture near, I¡¯m met with cold, judgmental stares from the rich. As we walk inside, I spot the knight who had rushed to Lacey¡¯s side earlier. I figure he came ahead to check out the place¡ªsmart. Lacey beams at me. ¡°Order whatever you want, because I¡¯m getting everything!¡± she says with a playful grin. Her joy is contagious, and I can¡¯t help but smile back. I watch as she orders what feels like the entire menu, along with two bottles of wine. "I think I¡¯ll just steal some off your plate," I tease, moving to stand next to her. ¡°She¡¯ll have your meat pie,¡± Lacey interjects without missing a beat.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s too expensive! That pie¡¯s over 30 crowns! I don¡¯t even spend that in two months!¡± I protest, my voice rising in disbelief.


    ¡°I told you, we don¡¯t pay here,¡± Lacey says, her voice firm and unwavering, a side of her I¡¯ve never seen before. She¡¯s standing tall, her posture sharp. Maybe she¡¯s keeping up appearances? ¡°Please have everything brought to our room when it¡¯s ready,¡± she adds, her tone commanding as she turns to the innkeeper. It¡¯s hard to argue with her when she¡¯s like this.


    ¡°Of course, my lady,¡± the man behind the counter replies. I follow Lacey up the stairs to our room. As we step inside, I notice only one bed and a small table with two chairs. ¡°This is what passes for royalty? It¡¯s got a noble air about it,¡± I joke, though it falls flat.


    ¡°Meh, I¡¯ve stayed worse. Especially when I¡¯m traveling with my father,¡± Lacey shrugs. ¡°This was last minute. I¡¯m sure we could¡¯ve gotten the best room if we¡¯d had a bit more time.¡± She waves her hand dismissively before turning to the knights. ¡°You three, out. Let me know when the food and wine arrive.¡± Without hesitation, they leave, and suddenly it¡¯s just the two of us. Lacey moves to open the window above the table while I sink into one of the chairs. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, honey?¡± she asks, her voice softening as she runs her hand through my short, greasy hair on her way to her seat. The room is dim, lit only by the flicker of candlelight near the bed and on the table. I try to swallow back the tears already welling up and focus my gaze on the floor.


    ¡°I¡¯m just tired, Lacey. I told you already,¡± I mutter. ¡°What you¡¯re doing is amazing, but... I can¡¯t help feeling guilty about all of it.¡±


    ¡°¡°The fact you feel guilty just proves how pure your heart is,¡± she replies, her tone gentle. ¡°But no one¡¯s paying for this. Not me, not my father, and certainly not you. Why are you tired?¡± I feel her eyes on me, but I keep staring down, unsure of what to say.


    ¡°You know, Lamberra, I respect you so much,¡± she says softly. My head jerks up, meeting her golden eyes. ¡°Me? A dirty, greasy girl from the slums? Someone who sleeps next to elves? You respect me?¡± My voice demanded an answer.


    ¡°Of course. You work tirelessly for your family. Not for yourself, but for Selma and Amara,¡± she says, completely unphased by my outburst. ¡°Though, I wonder, do you feel respected and loved? Also, I don¡¯t mind the elves, I believe they have a rightful place in our community. Their genocide shall never be forgotten.¡±


    I let out a soft sigh, my guard dropping. ¡°No, they are grateful. I know that. I¡¯m thankful for them too. But my mother¡¯s getting older, and my sister... she¡¯s too innocent to grow up in the slums.¡± Ignoring her comments about elf genocide, she dosen¡¯t have the slightest clue. Before Lacey can respond, three loud knocks interrupt us. ¡°Food¡¯s here!¡± she exclaims, jumping up from her chair. She opens the creaky door, revealing three men balancing trays of food and bottles of wine. ¡°Set the mains on the table and the rest on the bed,¡± she instructs. The men move quickly and quietly, following her orders without a word, and within moments, they¡¯re gone. Such effortless control.


    Lacey turns back to me, her usual spark returning. ¡°Now, where were we?¡±


    I begin cutting into the delicate dish before me, my mouth watering after barely eating anything all day. ¡°I asked my mother if I could get a job at the castle, maybe help provide for the family,¡± I say between bites. ¡°But Mama... she shut it down immediately. Told me never to bring it up again. She hasn¡¯t yelled at me like that in years.¡±


    There¡¯s a pause. Lacey¡¯s eyes widen, her smile growing as if she¡¯s been waiting for this moment. ¡°Miss Lamberra, I officially welcome you into my service!¡± she says with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting so long for you to ask!¡±


    ¡°No, Lacey, I can¡¯t. Every position there requires living in the castle. I won¡¯t abandon my family.¡±


    Lacey waves off my concern. ¡°Easy. Your position won¡¯t be live-in. You can go home whenever you like.¡±


    I shake my head, frustrated. ¡°Lacey, it¡¯s at least an hour, maybe two, just walking back and forth every day. It¡¯s not practical. And it wouldn¡¯t be fair to the other maids¡ª¡±


    ¡°Who said anything about you being a maid?¡± Lacey interrupts, her tone playful but firm. ¡°I said I welcome you into my service, not that you¡¯d be scrubbing floors. You¡¯d be my personal attendant. I hate the word ¡®servant,¡¯ makes it sound like slavery, and it¡¯s nothing like that. I only need you on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays¡ªthe days the castle is busiest. The rest of the time, you stay home. You can even leave if something comes up.¡± She¡¯s so focused on convincing me she hasn¡¯t touched her food. ¡°So... I¡¯ll see you Monday, then?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Lacey. Maybe? Can I think about it?¡± I ask, my voice edged with worry.


    ¡°Of course, silly. Take all the time you need.¡± She is fully involved with her meal now.  ¡°That¡¯s it? You just wanted to ask me for a job?¡±


    At her words, I lose it. Tears spill down my face, and my breath comes in short, ragged gasps. I can barely see through the blur of my tears, but I hear the scrape of Lacey¡¯s chair and feel her pulling me up from my seat. She moves the food and wine from the bed, guiding me gently to sit down. My hands bury my face, but I can glimpse her kneeling in front of me, a woman of such high status, treating me with humility.


    ¡°Berra,¡± she says softly, ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s weighing on you so much, but I know you¡¯re strong. You¡¯re the reason I want to succeed my father and not let my brother take over. I want to help people like you, those the nobility forget. Do you remember that man? The one who tried to... hurt you, the night we met?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± I manage through sobs.


    ¡°Well, knowing what he did, he¡¯s still rotting in a prison cell, even after two years,¡± she says, her voice filled with pride.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Two years!? But... isn''t the usual punishment for something like that a severe beating or losing a hand?¡± I ask, shocked.


    ¡°Not anymore,¡± she replies, her eyes gleaming. ¡°After witnessing it firsthand, I had my father change the law. Now, you either rot in a cell forever or... become free, but only as a eunuch.¡± There was a long, loud silence. I bite down on my words, but when the silence stretches on a moment too long, the absurdity of it all spills out in a sharp, unexpected laugh from the both of us. ¡°You¡¯re sadistic!¡± I manage between fits of giggles, our laughter filling the room, her hand resting warmly on my thigh. As she wipes away the tears from my cheeks with her other hand, I ask, ¡°Why are you so nice to me?¡±


    ¡°I believe that¡¯s a conversation for another time,¡± Lacey says softly, her voice taking on a more serious tone. ¡°But I want you to know, if there¡¯s anything I can do for you, I¡¯ll do it. Okay?¡± The authority in her words leaves no room for doubt, and I simply nod in agreement. ¡°Not to be rude,¡± she continues, her tone lightening, ¡°but this inn has a bathhouse. Would you like to try it?¡± I feel her hand pat my greasy hair, making me acutely aware of my disheveled state. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and I¡¯m unsure how to respond. ¡°Come on,¡± she urges, ¡°I¡¯ll go with you.¡±


    ¡°Huh? We¡¯ll be... naked?¡± I stammer, startled by the thought. ¡°That would be extremely disrespectful to you.¡±


    Lacey giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°Unless you¡¯re gonna make fun of me and look at me with lustful eyes, nothing is disrespectful,¡± she teases, then knocks on the door and commands one of the knights to fetch fresh clothing from the castle and ensure the bathwater is hot. ¡°While they do that,¡± she adds, ¡°let¡¯s finish eating, maybe get a little tipsy. Like I said, I still need a drink.¡±I follow her lead as if it¡¯s a royal command, and this time, our conversation is light, meandering through topics like the weather, distant lordships and kingdoms, and what we¡¯d do if we had magical powers. The tension eases, and I almost forget about the bathhouse until there¡¯s a knock at the door. ¡°Our clothes will be waiting in the changing room,¡± Lacey says as we stand to leave.


    ¡°Also, I want you to keep the clothes. They don¡¯t fit me anymore.¡±I can see why. I¡¯m so small compared to her¡ªmy legs, arms, waist, and even my breasts are barely noticeable. If not for my slight figure, I could almost pass for a boy. As we enter the bathhouse, the guards take their posts outside the door. ¡°It must be strange,¡± I remark, ¡°having so much protection all the time. I¡¯d go insane if I never got any alone time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not so bad,¡± Lacey replies, struggling to remove her clothing. ¡°I get time to myself in my room at the castle. It¡¯s well-protected enough that no one needs to stand guard there.¡±  Watching her wrestle with her gown, I can¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Here, let me help.¡± She moves her long, bronze-colored hair out of the way, and with one swift motion, I undo the clasp holding her dress together. The entire gown slips from her body, leaving her standing in just her underwear.


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m so sorry, my lady! I¡¯ll just¡ª¡± I start to stammer, I should never see her like this.


    ¡°Shut up, Berra,¡± she interrupts, a playful grin spreading across her face. ¡°Can I call you that? I did earlier, and you didn¡¯t seem to mind. Is it okay?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I say, my cheeks flushing with heat. ¡°You can call me whatever you like.¡± My heart races, my pulse quickening in my chest. Why am I struggling to breathe?


    ¡°Good. You¡¯re Berra to me then.¡± Lacey¡¯s eyes twinkle as she steps into the bathwater. ¡°Now hurry up. The water¡¯s going to get cold.¡± I undress quickly, my hands shaking slightly as I turn around to find Lacey already watching me from the water. ¡°My, my,¡± she says, her voice soft with admiration, ¡°you¡¯re truly beautiful.¡± I attempted to use both my hands to cover my chest and private area. Her gaze is intense, and I instinctively cover my chest and lower half with my hands. ¡°What¡¯s that large scar on your left side?¡± she asks, her eyes tracing the mark that runs down my body.


    I hesitate, but her curiosity feels genuine, not judgmental. ¡°When I was young, I was playing with some elven children. I fell into a ravine, and a rock sliced me open from my breast all the way down my side. The others ran to get help, and when they came back, I was lying in a pool of my own blood... but the wound had already healed.¡± I sink into the warm water, hoping to escape the intensity of her gaze, but Lacey rises from the bath, completely unashamed, and walks over to examine me more closely.


    ¡°Healing magic...¡± Lacey whispers, almost to herself.


    ¡°Nah, no way. Although elfs are the ones who predominantly have this ability, no elf was down there to do that. It¡¯s probably a birthmark and stupid scary story Mama told me to try and keep me safe. I think I would remember a rock nearly splitting me in half.¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± is all she says as she settles back into the water. It¡¯s been a long time since I had a bath. My people all wash off at the Siburg river in the slums. Sadly, that¡¯s our drinking water too, which is why we only have two bath days a week.


    ¡°I really hope you choose to become my personal servant, Berra. Truly,¡± Lacey says suddenly.


    . ¡°Why?¡± I ask, caught off guard. ¡°I¡¯m just an unimportant girl that, for some reason, you seem to like.¡± I try to lighten the mood with a joke.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of being alone,¡± she admits, her voice quieter now. ¡°I¡¯m alienated from my family. They¡¯re grooming my younger brother for the lordship and trying to marry me off. I¡¯m fighting it, but it¡¯s creating rifts in my household. I know you think I don¡¯t understand your struggles, but you don¡¯t understand mine either.¡± Her words hit me like a wave, and I feel a pang of guilt. I never considered the weight she carries. Her life is filled with choices that hold consequences, every action scrutinized. I¡¯ve always seen her as someone with everything, but perhaps the cost of power is its own kind of burden.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m lonely too,¡± I tell her as I move closer to her side. ¡°It¡¯s just me, Mama, and Amara.¡± I tell her, moving closer to her side. She gives me a small side smile, grabbing the soap for our hair and bodies. Somehow, I no longer feel ashamed. ¡°It would be nice to have someone else in my life that isn¡¯t just my family,¡± I add, almost shyly.


    ¡°That¡¯s nice to hear, Berra,¡± she responds softly. Not much of a response I guess. Maybe I¡¯ve been too harsh on her all this time, letting Mama¡¯s warnings get to me. She¡¯s always told me to stay away from royalty, to keep Lacey at a distance, but why? This could be the opportunity I need to change not just my life, but Amara¡¯s too.After we finish bathing, I dry off and slip into the nightgown Lacey bought for me. It¡¯s old, but the colors of burnt orange swirled with midnight purple remind me of the most beautiful sunset I¡¯ve ever seen. The fabric is softer than anything I¡¯ve ever worn, more comfortable than my own sheets and mattress. Oh, to live in luxury.


    ¡°This is the cleanest I¡¯ve felt in years,¡± I tell her, feeling genuinely grateful. ¡°Thank you for helping me feel... anew.¡± Lacey smiles, and we head back toward the room. One knight leads us in front, another follows at our back. The inn is almost eerily quiet now; I guess everyone left once they saw the number of knights hanging around. As we reach the room, one guard stands at the door, and Lacey speaks to him.  ¡°At once, Lady Everknight,¡± he says before rushing down the stairs and leaving the inn entirely.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I inquire.


    ¡°I informed we would be sleeping here tonight, to let the commanding officer know so we can rotate the knights. It¡¯s important I keep them safe as much as they do for me.¡± She replied sharply.


    ¡°See, you have a good heart as well,¡± I tell her, poking her copper brown hair.


    ¡°More or less, just doing my duty.¡± I look around our small room in the Inn, filled with Lacey¡¯s cheese plate and two bottles of red wine. I watch her pick one up and pour it into two glasses. ¡°I still need my drink,¡± Lacey giggles, but then sighs.


    ¡°Is there anything bothering you?¡± I ask her.


    ¡°A lot, actually. But I shall not trouble you with it.¡± She says walking toward the window.


    ¡°Trouble me. At the very least, I¡¯m a good listener.¡±


    ¡°King Thornewood is visiting next week. He¡¯s been traveling for a few months to meet my father. From everything I heard, I am to marry the prince to ¡®strengthen the alliance during these troubling times.¡¯ I think it¡¯s ridiculous.¡± Well that was rather easy to get her to open up, I thought to myself.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that mean you¡¯re going to Stormhaven? The capital? After next week?¡± I inquire.


    ¡°Nope, I have every intention to not let this happen.¡± She replied firmly. I don¡¯t bother to ask how, I¡¯m sure she has a way.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure this will be an exciting few weeks then!¡± As we trade childhood stories and continue to drink both entire bottles, we both found ourselves lying on the bed laughing. As life would have it, I¡¯m sure Mama is going to kill me tomorrow.


    ¡°Do you know, I am a bastard?¡± I tell her laughing.


    ¡°I thought you told me your father died when we first met?¡±


    ¡°HA. I wish he were dead, hell he may be. I know nothing about him. Mama refuses to talk about him.¡±


    ¡°So you have no surname? How sad..¡± Lacey trails off.


    ¡°Don¡¯t. Lamberra, or Berra rather, is just fine!¡± I say happily.


    ¡°Hm. I want you to know I think nothing less of you, okay?¡± her voice filled with concern. ¡°So, you are potentially a magic user, a bastard, and want to work at the castle?¡± Lacey says somewhat attempting to hide her laughter.


    ¡°No, yes, and maybe! I have no special abilities whatsoever, but I am a bastard, and I would like to leave the slums one day.¡± I felt a wave of tiredness hit my body. I¡¯m sure the moon sits low in the sky and the sun is about to reappear. I hear Lacey mumble something to me and then I felt her arm wrap around me. As Lacey''s breathing settles into the steady rhythm of sleep, I lie awake, feeling the slight warmth of her arm draped around me. The wine has softened the edges of everything, leaving a drowsy haze, but my mind flits between the elation of the evening and an unfamiliar stirring.


    Just then, I hear the soft hoot of an owl outside our window, a low call that settles in my bones. It¡¯s rare to hear one in Ashvale, especially so deep within the town. Mama used to say an owl¡¯s visit at dawn meant news was coming, often news that unsettles and reshapes. A silly elven superstition. Still, I shiver, though. Thankfully Lacey¡¯s warmth is a gentle balm against it.

 Belli Mira

    The morning light seeps in through the half open window, casting a soft glow over the room as it filters through thin curtains we left drawn open. My eyes creek open, adjusting to the light, and I find Lacey''s arm still slung around me, her slow breaths steady against my shoulder. For just a moment, I¡¯m suspended in a rare quiet, feeling the warmth of her beside me, the silk blankets gathered over us, and the luxurious weight of a mattress that feels like some absurd fantasy. I don¡¯t want to move and I especially don¡¯t want to return to my mattress at home, I chuckle at the thought of it.


    The dawn swells into full daylight, and Lacey stirs, her arm slipping away as she stretches across the bed. She lets out a low, satisfied sigh, the kind that speaks of knowing every comfort life could offer. ¡°We should probably get back to our real lives,¡± I murmur with a grin, reaching reluctantly for my clothes. There¡¯s a faint tug of longing in my chest, half-expecting her to say something to keep me here. Lacey only answers with a lazy smile.


    ¡°Oh, I know. The knights are probably grumbling in the hall by now,¡± she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep. ¡°If I stay much longer, my father might send a search party.¡± She yawns, pushing herself up slowly. It¡¯s strange, the quiet understanding between us after last night, it was just something I didn¡¯t expect. I glance out the window, watching the town of Ashvale wake to life. Market stalls are opening, townsfolk call out morning greetings, and I feel some guilt. Mama¡¯s likely wondering where I am, ready with her usual questions and warnings. I¡¯ll need a story for her, one without Lacey, or mention of the castle. ¡°Guess we should go, then,¡± I say, trying to keep my voice steady.


    Lacey¡¯s eyes soften as she watches me dress. ¡°Be my servant, Berra,¡± she says quietly. ¡°You don¡¯t belong in the slums forever, you know. There¡¯s a place for you.¡± I force a smile at her offer, though her words churn uneasily inside me. She doesn¡¯t understand what my life is like currently. For now, the slums are where I belong. We walk down to the inn¡¯s entrance, exchanging a quick embrace before she heads off with her guards, leaving me to return alone. It¡¯s at least an hour¡¯s walk back home.The morning streets of Ashvale are busy and as always hectic and flooded with people. As I make my way, I weave through familiar faces and voices, the creak of shop shutters opening and the smell of fresh bread in the air. Just as I near the forest path leading to the slums,I spot a dark figure. Wearing a dark hooded cloak and moving quickly through the trees. He slips into the shadows too fast to make out any details, his movements sharp and deliberate. Curious, I slow, watching the spot where he vanished. The slums are full of strange people, and I tell myself it¡¯s nothing out of the ordinary considering the people who live here.


    By the time I reach home, the small hut feels foreign, a stark contrast to the comforts of the inn with Lacey. The low roof sags, patched with frayed cloth where last spring''s rain had seeped through. I step through the doorway, ducking beneath the peeling wood frame, my shoulders brushing the sides. Inside, the room is as cramped and cluttered as ever, filled with Mama¡¯s collection of mismatched pots and Amara¡¯s toys, worn and patched in places, stacked in the corner as if they too are waiting for something better. Each shelf brims with odds and ends: shells, old ribbons, broken jewelry, tokens Mama can never bring herself to part with. In the dim light, these small trinkets always seem to catch my eye. I spot Mama standing in the center of it all, her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on me with a sharpness that cuts through me. Her dark eyes dark with worry, creased with shadows from another sleepless night I¡¯m sure she had. ¡°Where were you all night, Lamberra?¡± Her voice is low and heavy.


    I shrug, fighting to keep my tone light. ¡°Stayed over at Belli¡¯s. It got late, and I thought it was safer to stay.¡± It¡¯s not a complete lie, but I can tell she isn¡¯t convinced. Her gaze shifts toward the cracked window, her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°I was expecting you to come home. I was worried sick, not knowing where you were.¡± Her fingers twist at the edge of her apron, I could see her nerves finally calming.


    ¡°I know, Mama. I¡¯m sorry,¡± I murmur, moving past her to set my things on the wobbly table in the middle of the room. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡± I can tell she¡¯s still uneasy, her fingers nervously tugging at her apron. Mama sighs, not seeming convinced, shifting from foot to foot. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to keep you safe. One day soon, I¡¯ll explain everything, my reasoning for all this. I promise.¡± She pauses, debating on what to say next, ¡°I¡¯m sorry too. About last night. I shouldn¡¯t have snapped at you. One day soon, I¡¯ll tell you my reasoning for everything, okay?¡±


    ¡°Sure, Mama. You don¡¯t need to apologize either.¡± I say mending our small indifference. ¡°Say, where is Amara? Has school already started?¡±


    ¡°It has,¡± she says, a faint smile breaking through her worry. ¡°She¡¯ll be back soon, nearly midday already. Are you hungry?¡±


    ¡°Actually, no. Belli practically gave me a feast,¡± I say with a practiced ease, slipping the lie into place.


    Mama¡¯s expression softens, her frown melting into something almost wistful. ¡°Such a sweet girl,¡± she murmurs, her gaze drifting, and I know she¡¯s slipping back into the past, to the stories of the elven people she¡¯s told me over a hundred times. The elves who once served as lords, who held positions on the high council beside the King. Then, one dark night, the royal army swept through their lands, leaving murdering and raping in their wake. She tells me the elves fought back ferociously but had to broker a fragile peace, but the cost was steep: every elf cast down, stripped of title, wealth, and honor. Most now live in places like mine, in the slums.


    ¡°Beautiful people,¡± I say softly, masking the sadness I feel with a small smile. ¡°We¡¯re lucky to know as well as we do. Mama¡¯s eyes find mine, a flicker of pride in them. The elves we know, Belli, and her family carry a dignity that even the darkest stories haven¡¯t stripped away. They possess a resilience, a kindness that often seems lost among the humans around us.


    She laughs, a warm sound that fills our small, ragged home. ¡°Very true!¡± Mama walks over, her worn hands brushing through my hair before planting a soft kiss on my head. ¡°Oh! Did Belli allow you to use her bath? That must be the best perk of being the leader of the elven community here in Ashvale.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I reply, holding back a laugh at the little lie. ¡°Actually, she invited me over again for dinner tonight. It¡¯ll leave more food for you and Amara.¡± Mama''s brow furrows with concern. ¡°You¡¯re sure she doesn¡¯t mind, back to back nights?¡±


    ¡°You know how she is. Always charitable,¡± I assure her, though a knot tightens in my stomach. ¡°Besides, is there any work to be done? How are we on money?¡±


    Her shoulders sag as she glances around our humble home, the walls patched and peeling. She sighs, shifting on her feet. ¡°We have eight crowns left. Not much, but the garden¡¯s kept us from starving, at least. I know you and Amara must be tired of eating the same things every day, though.¡± Her voice dips, trailing off with that same quiet resignation she has.


    ¡°Maybe I can ask Mister Finch at the apothecary if he needs me to run a delivery to Siburg,¡± I say, quickly trying to move past the silence. ¡°He pays twenty crowns for a trip down the river path. That plus what we have would last us a while.¡±


    Mama¡¯s face tightens as she listens, her hands wringing her apron. ¡°Lamberra¡­ I don¡¯t like you taking that job. It¡¯s dangerous out there, especially alone, and it¡¯s a full day¡¯s walk both ways. You have to stay with Duke overnight, twice. I don¡¯t trust that man, and I never have.¡±


    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s weird, but it¡¯s a sacrifice.¡± I force a smile and tell her.


    Her hands reach out to me, warm and trembling. ¡°My sweet girl, me and Amara would be lost without you. If you go, please, take the small sword with you. Keep it hidden.¡± Her eyes meet mine, dark and brimming with a mother¡¯s endless worry. ¡°I just want to protect you forever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting pretty good with it,¡± I say, my voice firmer, more hopeful than I feel. ¡°Belli¡¯s younger brother¡¯s been teaching me. Besides, Mama, I¡¯m old enough now. I¡¯m not that little anymore.¡±


    She holds my chin and lifts my face so that our eyes meet. Her gaze softens, pride and sadness mingling. ¡°I know you¡¯re stronger now, Lamberra. It¡¯s just¡­ it shouldn¡¯t have to be this way. You¡¯ll always be my baby.¡± She sighs, gently releasing me, her expression distant yet thoughtful. ¡°I¡¯m going into town for a little while. Will you wait here for Amara?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll tidy up and prepare the vegetables for tonight¡¯s meal,¡± I tell her, hoping to ease her worries a bit. Mama¡¯s mouth lifts in a grateful smile, and she nods before slipping out the door. I hope Belli doesn¡¯t mind me showing up unannounced, but she did invite me over, after all. I take a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of our home, a blend of earthiness and the faint, lingering aroma of the tomato soup from last night. The small space feels even tighter as I begin picking up. I pick up the frayed blankets that have slipped to the floor and fold them. The wooden table, scratched and worn, could use a good scrubbing, but I settle for sweeping the dust into a corner for now. The walls could also use a scrubbing, but perhaps that can wait for a deep spring cleaning. A few missing tiles in the ceiling let in more drafts than I¡¯d like, and the creaky floorboards echo with every movement. I glance over at Amara¡¯s little corner, cluttered with her knickknacks and drawings. Despite its chaos, it brings a small smile to my lips. I can¡¯t help but think of how she always finds beauty in the simplest of things.


    Just then, the door swings open, and Amara bursts in, her face flushed with excitement. In her small hands, she clutches a bundle of wildflowers, their colors bright and bold against the muted tones of our little home. ¡°Look what I found!¡± she exclaims, holding them up proudly. ¡°They were blooming by the river!¡±


    ¡°Those are beautiful, Amara!¡± I say, taking a few steps toward her. ¡°You sure do love your flowers, huh?¡± I express cheerfully rubbing her blonde hair. She giggles, her eyes sparkling. ¡°Mama will love them! Can we put them in water?¡±


    ¡°Of course! Let¡¯s find a jar,¡± I reply, moving toward the small cupboard where we keep our sparse collection of dishes. As we rummage around for a suitable container, a warmth settles in my chest, spreading through me as Amara¡¯s joy fills the room. Together, we fill a jar with water from the pitcher and arrange the wildflowers inside, their vibrant petals adding a splash of color to our otherwise gray, worn surroundings. As we place the jar on the table, I look down at Amara and ask, ¡°do you still have that flower crown from yesterday?¡±


    ¡°Sure do! It¡¯s in our room!¡± Without another word, she darts off, her little feet padding across the floor as she runs to fetch it. I chuckle, shaking my head. ¡°Goofy girl,¡± I murmur under my breath. In a flash, she reappears, flower crown in hand, and places it atop her head with a flourish. ¡°Look, I¡¯m the queen of flowers!¡± She declares, arms spread wide. I laugh, but she doesn¡¯t give me a moment before the questions start spilling out in a rapid tumble. ¡°Hey, where¡¯s Mama? Where were you last night? What¡¯s for dinner? Whe¡ª¡±


    ¡°Whoa, whoa!!¡± I interrupt her child like questioning, holding up a hand to slow her down. ¡°One question at a time.¡± I count off on my fingers as I answer, ¡°Mama went into town. I was at Belli¡¯s last night, and I¡¯ll be there again tonight. And I think Mama¡¯s making onion soup, since she left the onions out.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Why were you at Belli¡¯s? Why are you going back again?¡± Amara persists, ignoring my answers to everything else. I try for a playful bribe, leaning in with a grin. ¡°Tell you what. Promise not to make a big fuss about it, and I¡¯ll take you to Belli¡¯s with me next weekend. Deal?¡± Her face lights up, and she nods eagerly. ¡°Deal!¡± Then, without another word, she scampers back toward our shared bedroom.


    ¡°Hey! I need you to help clean the room! It¡¯s mostly your stuff cluttering the floor!¡± I call after her, hands on my hips. She lets out an exaggerated groan, mumbling something in protest, but I can¡¯t quite catch it. I shake my head laughing on the inside.


    I finish cleaning the house and hear nothing coming from the bedroom. I approach inside our room and see Amara sprawled out on her small cot, sound asleep, the flower crown still perched crookedly on her head. School must¡¯ve worn her out, and, naturally, she didn¡¯t clean a thing. Crossing the room, I close the frayed curtains, letting a soft darkness settle over the space. Carefully, I lie down beside her, wrapping my arm gently around her tiny frame, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing. She stirs, her body curling closer, and murmurs sleepily, ¡°Sissy?¡±


    ¡°Shh, sleep stupid. We¡¯ll wait until Mama gets back,¡± I whisper, feeling her small body relax against me. I close my eyes, exhaustion tugging me at me too. I guess from the long night spent with Lacey, followed by the early morning.


    It feels as though I¡¯ve just drifted off when I hear Mama¡¯s soft voice from the doorway. ¡°Well, look at these two little doves!¡±


    ¡°Mama!¡± Amara squeals, jumping up to wrap her arms around her. I push myself up, blinking against the warm, dim light that filters through the room. I open the curtains and notice the sun is dipping toward the horizon. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s time for me to go,¡± I say with a huff. ¡°I¡¯ll try to be back tonight, but if not, I¡¯ll stay safe with Belli and be home in the morning.¡± Mama¡¯s brow creases a little, but she nods. ¡°Fine, just be careful, okay? Amara, let¡¯s get started on dinner.¡± I grin as they walk out together. ¡°Good luck with her! She didn¡¯t even clean our bedroom!¡±


    I hear Amara to tell me to shut up which causes a soft eye roll and grin from me. I guess I should change back into something slightly better. I find my tattered dress hanging on the back of the door, its rough linen fabric blending seamlessly with the muted colors of my small room. It¡¯s not much to look at, just a simple garment in shades of brown and olive green. I slip it over my head, feeling the familiar weight of the fabric settle around me. The hem is frayed, threads unraveling, I can see the patches I¡¯ve sewn on, I¡¯ve mended this dress more times than I can count. Leaving the house, I wave goodbye and start along the winding path toward Belli¡¯s home, thankful for the remaining daylight. The streets hum with the life of the slums, familiar faces waving or nodding as I pass by.


    As I get closer to Belli¡¯s, I stick to the quieter side paths, avoiding the bustling slum market square with its shady stalls and watchful eyes. The slums around me unfold in all their rough beauty, walls chipped and cracked but resilient. My steps lead me toward the quieter side of the slums, where Belli¡¯s family lives. Though still considered part of the slums, the homes here are sturdier, with stones carefully stacked to ward off the wind and cold. Small, tended gardens peek out from behind fences, growing patches of herbs and flowers, their colors softened in the golden hour. A few cats dart through the shadows, and I spot children sweeping steps while their mothers hang linens to dry. I pass gardens bordered by polished stones, patches of herbs and flowers in neat rows, their colors muted by the dawn light but alive, untouched by the wildness of the slums. A few cats slip through the alleyways, and I catch glimpses of children sweeping their stoops or mothers hanging fresh linens out to dry.


    Reaching Belli¡¯s house, I pause. Her home certainly stands out. Large, with soft cream-colored walls that have resisted the wear of time. Pale blue shutters frame the windows, freshly painted, and a curved cobblestone path leads up to a wide, polished wooden door. Flower boxes line the windows, bursting with marigolds and delicate purple flowers I can¡¯t name. At the center of the door sits a small brass knocker shaped like a bird, gleaming in the fading light. Belli¡¯s father was highly respected in the elven community and it¡¯s now Belli¡¯s responsibility since his death.


    I raise my hand to knock, but before my knuckles can even graze the door, it swings open, and there stands Belli, her bright red hair like a flame in the dimming light, her piercing blue eyes sparking with surprise and delight. ¡°Lamberra! Good evening. I wasn¡¯t expecting you to accept my invitation so soon!¡± I offer a small smile, feeling oddly bashful under her gaze. ¡°Well, we haven¡¯t seen each other in a few months,¡± I reply. ¡°Have you been busy?¡± My eyes trail past her to the warm glow of her home, a contrast to my own.


    Belli steps aside, ushering me in with a welcoming wave. The moment I step inside, I¡¯m enveloped by a sense of comfort and elegance I hadn¡¯t expected. The rooms are carefully decorated with finely woven rugs in rich, earthy colors, sturdy tables polished to a soft gleam, and shelves lined with books and trinkets from far-off places. Everything here feels deliberate, curated, a world away from what I¡¯m used to.


    ¡°Yes, quite busy, actually,¡± she replies, moving over to a small, intricately carved desk just by the door. Parchment and scrolls clutter the surface, some with elegant calligraphy, others marked with official seals. ¡°I just returned from the capital, Stormhaven.¡±


    ¡°Belli Mira..¡± I say out loud reading her signature. ¡°I forgot that was your last name. It¡¯s beautiful.¡± My eyebrows lift at the mention of the capital, but I keep my expression neutral, watching as she seats herself and begins writing, her hand quick and graceful as she seals each scroll with care. She looks up with an apologetic smile. ¡°Thank you!¡± She nearly shouted with her voice. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lamberra. You caught me finishing my work. Please, allow me just a moment to tidy up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s me who¡¯s intruding,¡± I say, moving toward a plush chair near her sitting area, its cushions embroidered with tiny silver threads that catch the light. ¡°Do whatever you need!¡± Belli¡¯s soft smile holds something else, a kind of understanding that¡¯s deeply familiar. ¡°Thank you.¡± She continues her work, her focus unwavering, her movements quick and sure. Watching her is oddly fascinating, the quiet intensity with which she moves, the flicker of determination in her eyes.


    ¡°Are you interested in this sort of thing?¡± Belli blurts out. I blink, surprised. ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said no¡­ but I never learned to write. I can read, though!¡± I add, as if to redeem myself.


    She nods thoughtfully, her fingers deftly rolling up the last scroll. ¡°That¡¯s right. My father¡¯s work for the slums didn¡¯t come into effect until later. He fought hard for us to have one school where anyone could go, even for free if they needed. Elves and humans alike.¡± The wistfulness in her voice hangs between us. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I say, shrugging, breaking the silence. ¡°Not the worst thing in the world.¡±


    Belli¡¯s expression hardens slightly, a conviction flickering in her eyes. ¡°I disagree. Every person has a right to a good education. If you ever want to learn, I can teach you. I¡¯d be happy to.¡± The offer catches me off guard. There¡¯s a gentleness in her voice, an unspoken promise of patience, of kindness. ¡°Maybe someday,¡± I reply, half to myself. ¡°I just need to find the time.¡±


    She turns to face me fully, her eyes alight with that same unyielding spirit I¡¯ve always admired in her. ¡°You possess many good qualities, Lamberra. More than you realize.¡± Her gaze softens, and a hint of a smile plays at her lips.


    ¡°Has anyone explained to you what mana is?¡± Belli asks, her face perky.


    ¡°Not this again,¡± I moan. ¡°I don¡¯t have any magical abilities.¡±


    A grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± she says, leaning forward, her voice lowering to an almost conspiratorial whisper. ¡°I, too, am a healing user. If someone can heal, then they can access all forms of magic. Fire, water, ice, lightning, it¡¯s all connected!¡±


    My immediate reaction is disbelief, a familiar skepticism. ¡°Okay, but I¡¯m not a healing user,¡± I say, a slight edge in my voice. I watch Belli rise from her seat and cross the room toward me, her gaze steady and unblinking. There¡¯s a firmness to her, a weight in her words that makes it hard to dismiss. ¡°I was there, Lamberra,¡± she says, her voice dropping to a soft tone. ¡°The day you fell, when that rock struck you. I remember your scream, the way you collapsed. I ran to you because I knew I could help, that I could heal you. But when I reached you¡­¡± Her gaze intensifies, her blue eyes locking onto mine with a certainty that sends a shiver through me. ¡°There was a glow surrounding you. It traced along your body, lining the wound, closing it. You healed yourself.¡±


    I scoff and look away, trying to make sense of what she¡¯s saying. ¡°Why are you telling me this now? I don¡¯t remember any of that.¡± My voice wavers, torn between wanting to understand and resisting the unfamiliar truth she¡¯s laying out before me.


    Belli¡¯s hand finds my shoulder, grounding me. ¡°I¡¯m telling you because it¡¯s time for you to learn. It¡¯s a part of who you are, Lamberra. Whether you believe it or not, it¡¯s there. Waiting.¡±


    A shiver runs through me, the weight of her words making my knees feel unsteady. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± I manage, my voice shaking.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she soothes. ¡°No one told you before because if the military hears of a new magic user, they¡¯ll seize you and use you as a weapon. Keeping you safe was always the priority. Healing users are almost extinct.¡± Her hand moves to rest on mine, her grip firm yet gentle. ¡°The reason I was spared is because of my ears.¡± She touches her pointed elf ears. ¡°Plus, your mother never wanted you to know. She just wants you safe.¡±


    Belli studies me for a moment, her eyes sparking with determination. ¡°The mana you have¡­ it¡¯s incredible. Come with me.¡± Without another word, she leads me outside, and I follow her through the twilight into a courtyard, where the hedges are trimmed to perfection and a soft glow from hidden lanterns lights our path. The air is cool, thick with the scent of damp earth and night-Once we¡¯re surrounded by the quiet of her garden, she turns to me, holding out her hand. ¡°You can manipulate the air and turn it into ice crystals.¡± She twists her hand in a swift, fluid motion, and I watch, astonished, as shimmering ice crystals form in the air around her fingers, glistening like tiny stars. With a flick of her wrist, she sends them flying into the side of a brick wall, where they embed themselves with a sharp crack.


    ¡°Of course, manipulating elements drains your mana. If you¡¯re away from water, it takes a huge toll to make ice. Same goes for lightning,¡± she continues, her voice intense. ¡°You¡¯d need clouds close by to tap into their power, or else you¡¯ll exhaust yourself in seconds. But¡­¡± She falls silent, and a heartbeat later, a streak of violent purple lightning flashes across the sky a few miles away. A powerful boom follows, rolling over the slums like the ocean. I look at Belli in shock. Belli is out of breath, but has a demonic grin on her face.


    ¡°You can still do it,¡± she whispers, pride glinting in her eyes. ¡°But it¡¯s exhausting. Now, fire¡­ fire is different. You can¡¯t just summon it from nothing. It has two main uses: fire swords and fire arrows. If you¡¯re skilled enough, you could start something small, like a campfire, or even a forest fire if it came to that. It¡¯s unmatched power, Lamberra. Dangerous in the right hands.¡±


    I stand there, my mind reeling, the knowledge heavy as it settles in. ¡°What am I supposed to do with all of this?¡± I ask, the reality of it overwhelming. ¡°I can¡¯t even imagine doing any of this.¡± Her expression softens, and she steps closer, her voice gentler. ¡°You¡¯ll learn. Let me teach you to write and to wield your magic. We¡¯ll work together.¡± Her voice, high-pitched with excitement.


    ¡°Then¡­ how did I use healing magic before? If it¡¯s true.¡± I demand seeking truth.


    ¡°When we¡¯re close to death, our bodies do whatever they can to survive. When you were bleeding out that day, that¡¯s exactly what happened. You healed yourself without realizing it.¡± Her voice is steady, calm, but there¡¯s something else. I hardly notice her reaching into her pocket until she produces a small knife, swiftly cutting a line across her palm before I can react.


    ¡°Belli! What are you doi-¡±


    ¡°Heal it, Lamberra.¡± Her voice is firm, unwavering, as blood begins to seep from the cut. I panic, my instinct to pull her inside to treat the wound, but she holds me in place, refusing to let me move.


    ¡°Heal me,¡± she insists, taking my hand and pressing it against the open wound. ¡°Close your eyes. Concentrate on the energy inside you, let it flow to your hand. You¡¯re a natural healing user; it¡¯ll come to you.¡± Her other hand rests on my shoulder, a comforting weight that anchors me. I shut my eyes, focusing on her warmth, on the drum of energy inside me that I¡¯d always ignored. My palm begins to tingle, and suddenly, a warmth radiates from my hand, glowing through my fingertips. The sensation is unlike anything I¡¯ve felt, an urgent flow rushing from within me.


    ¡°Yes! Keep going, Lamberra,¡± she encourages, excitement spilling into her voice. ¡°I¡¯d rather not have a scar, so pour as much energy as you can,¡± Belli''s words are nearly incomprehensible. The rush inside me intensifies, powerful and raw, and I clench my eyes tighter causing them to water. My head begins to pulse with the strain. I push forward, harder, trying to channel the energy. The world around me grows hazy, slipping away as I finally lose my grip on the flow and of myself. My knees buckle, and I collapse to the ground, my head striking the hard path. I hear Belli¡¯s laughter somewhere above me as I lie there, fading into unconsciousness.

 Lovely Night

    Lamberra¡¯s eyes snapped open, her breath catching as a surge of energy rushed through her like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. The bed beneath her was too soft, too foreign, swallowing her in its luxurious embrace. Above, a chandelier flickered gently, its freshly lit candles casting a warm, golden light that danced along the walls. For a second, she thought she was still at the inn with Lacey. However, there was something pressing down on her, cruising her into the mattress.


    A faint ringing filled her ears, muffling the voices to her right, but there was nothing. Her limbs refused to obey as they were heavy and unresponsive. Panic suddenly started to flair inside her until she heard Belli speak out to her, ¡°That was amazing, Lamberra.¡±


    Belli¡¯s voice cut through the haze, light and pleased, her hands clapping together. Lamberra¡¯s gaze flickered toward her, every movement sluggish, as if she were wading through thick mud. Belli stretched out her hand, palm up, displaying flawless skin, ¡°see? No scar!¡±


    Lamberra tried to respond, tried to ask what the hell had just happened, but her lips wouldn¡¯t move. Sudden fear lodged deeper in her throat, and Belli sensing her struggle, continued speaking trying to ease her mind, ¡°you probably can¡¯t talk or move yet, and that¡¯s okay.¡± Belli waved a hand casually, as if this was an everyday occurrence. ¡°You overexerted your mana. Happens to the best of us, especially in training.¡±


    Lamberra barely processed the words as her mind reeled. Mana? Magic? This can¡¯t be real. Belli leaned against the edge of the bed, crossing her arms. ¡°Everyone has some level of mana. Every human, every elf,¡± she said as she gave a pointed glance toward Lamberra. ¡°But there are exceptions. Like us. We have an overabundance, which allows us to do things others can¡¯t.¡± Belli then smirked. ¡°Ever feel restless at night? Like you can¡¯t sleep, even though you want to? That¡¯s your overabundance at work!¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut it, Belli,¡± a deeper voice interjected, rough but warm with familiarity. Lamberra¡¯s gaze jerked toward the corner of the room and Belli¡¯s younger brother, Willow. He stood with his arms crossed, towering over his sister, his fiery red hair cascading down his back in loose waves. Everything about him was bigger, broader, louder. He could fill any space without even trying.


    ¡°Hi there, Lamberra,¡± he greeted, his voice softening when he addressed her directly, but when he turned back to Belli, the edge returned. ¡°You should¡¯ve waited until I got home, this wasn¡¯t how we were supposed to do this.¡±


    You¡¯re being dramatic,¡± Belli waved him off. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine.¡± Belli approached Lamberra again, her hands glowing faintly. She whispered an incantation, too quiet for Lamberra to catch. Then, a shockwave of energy ripped through her. It felt like lightning striking her veins and Lamberra¡¯s body reacted instantly. Her head back slammed against the headboard and a gasp tore from her lips, ¡°What the fuck, Belli!?¡± The words bursted out before she could stop them.


    Willow threw his head back, laughing. ¡°Out of all the times we¡¯ve fought, and I¡¯ve beaten her to a pulp,¡± he gestured toward Belli, still chuckling, ¡°she¡¯s never cursed at me.¡±


    Belli¡¯s left eyebrow twitched up as she turned to her brother, smirking. ¡°Such spark,¡± she mused. ¡°Is she like this when you two train?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Willow grinned. ¡°When she gets mad, she turns into a different animal.


    ¡°I¡¯m not mad,¡± Lamberra muttered, brushing her disheveled hair from her face. ¡°Just confused.¡± Her fingers fumbled to pull her hair into a bun, but the exhaustion from what just happened made her clumsy. She exhaled sharply, showing her frustration.


    ¡°Calm, Lamberra.¡± Belli¡¯s voice softened, her hands replaced Lamberra¡¯s. Her touch was light, practiced, fingers twisting Lamberra;s hair into a neat bun with ease. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay.¡±


    She stepped back, assessing her work like an artist saying, ¡°you have incredible potential.¡± Belli¡¯s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. ¡°Not just in magic. Soon, elves might have a place on the High Council again.¡± Belli¡¯s gaze locked onto Lamberra¡¯s, ¡°and maybe¡­you¡¯d like to join me on that journey.¡±


    Lamberra blinked and then a nervous laugh. ¡°W-what?¡± She stared off, ¡°I¡¯m not even an elf.¡±


    Belli shrugged. ¡°No matter,¡± she said as she leaned forward, ¡°the point is to show humans and elves can work together.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think they gave us mansions in the slums after the peace treaty?¡± Willow said, his voice carried a hint of bitterness. He leaned against the wall, arms still crossed. ¡°It¡¯s to make humans hate us. We¡¯re rich, but you¡¯re poor.¡±


    All Lamberra could do was frown. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as her arms tightened around herself. ¡°How does being a magic user help with any of that? What could I possibly do?¡±


    Belli sat at the edge of the bed, her expressions gentle but firm. ¡°That¡¯s a separate thing, Lamberra,¡± she said with a small reassuring smile. ¡°For now, let¡¯s focus on your magic, your reading, and writing. I believe anyone with the ability to do any of those things should learn how.¡± Belli tilted her as her voice grew lighter, ¡°As for politics? We¡¯ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Say, are you hungry?¡± The words were soft, grounding, and familiar. For a moment, she sounded like Mama.


    Lamberra hesitated, and then a slow smirk appeared, ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I wanna eat right now.¡±


    ¡°There she is!¡± Willow called out. In two strides, he was in front of her stitching out a hand. Lamberra took it, feeling his grip was firm and steady. With one effortless jerk, he pulled her onto her feet. ¡°We¡¯re going to change the world, the three of us! Just like I¡¯ve always said, ever since we were kids!¡± Willow¡¯s enthusiasm filled the room.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been saying that forever, you¡¯re not the one who has to spend weeks at the capital,¡± Belli sighed dramatically. She rose to her feet, rolling eyes but a playful smirk appeared on her lips, ¡°besides, we¡¯re still children.¡±


    Lamberra followed Willow and Belli toward the kitchen, the scent of simmering broth filling the air as they made their way to the dining table. Along the wall, a painting of General Rowena Mira, their father, loomed over them, his sharp elven features captured in broad, confident strokes. Lamberra¡¯s gaze lingered on the portrait.


    Four years ago, the battle of Blade¡¯s Crossing had claimed his life. The Kingdom of Stormhaven¡¯s conquest against the Kingdom of Aurelia had been brutal. The war had been fought over water and mining rights, the vast, contested land of Blade¡¯s Crossing bordering Aurelia to the west. Once the genocide was over, a part of the peace treaty was that every male elf must fight in any future wars, which placed Rowena Mira there. A proven skilled warrior, but even better strategist. General Mira had been one of the last sent to the front lines as a commander. He led a mere fifty soldiers behind enemy lines to cripple the last five hundred warriors of Aurelia¡¯s army. Through sheer strategy, wit, and determination, he had forced their surrender, and yet he suffered a fatal wound with their ambush. Without Rowena, a peace treaty would have never happened. He had a unique ability to unite humans and elves, it made him one of the important figures in history in the last 100 years. Even today, the Mira name holds significant weight.


    ¡°I miss your father,¡± Lamberra murmured, her voice softer than she expected. Her eyes remained on the painting, tracing the strength in his face. ¡°He had such a warm laugh. But this painting¡­ it doesn¡¯t do him justice.¡±


    ¡°Are you calling my late father sexy, Lamberra?¡± Willow¡¯s grin was sharp, mischief flashing in his eyes. His teasing jab broke the heaviness of the moment, and Lamberra huffed a small laugh despite herself. Belli chuckled, shaking her head as she ladled soup into wooden cups.


    ¡°The frightening thing is,¡± Belli mused, her lips twitching into a smirk, ¡°he would¡¯ve loved your company, Lamberra.¡±


    Lamberra matched their energy, smiling. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she teased, tilting her head toward Willow. ¡°Would you let me court him if he were still here?¡±


    Willow let out a booming laugh, and even Belli let out an amused huff. Belli placed a bowl of mushroom soup in front of Lamberra, alongside a piece of crusty bread. Lamberra knew instantly what a luxury this was. Mushrooms were hard to come by, unless you had a private garden to grow them, but your soil also has to be right. Mama¡¯s garden certainly wasn¡¯t. She reached for the spoon, but her hands trembled. The aftershock of burning out her mana still clung to her like heavy chains.


    Willow noticed immediately. His amused grin faded, replaced by a knowing frown as he shot a glare at Belli. ¡°You wrecked this poor girl,¡± he grumbled. ¡°She wasn¡¯t ready to burn her mana down to zero yet.¡±


    Belli rolled her eyes but set her soup aside, stepping behind Lamberra. A cool warmth spread from her fingertips as she placed her palms gently against Lamberra¡¯s back. ¡°Vitalis,¡± she murmured. A wave of energy crashed through Lamberra, Her back arched sharply, lungs seizing as a gasp tore from her throat. Her vision flashed white as raw, tingling power flooded every vein. The feeling was too much, too sudden and then,  just as quickly, it was gone.


    Lamberra sagged forward, breathing heavily. She stared at her hands, and they were completely still. The tremors were gone. She flexed her fingers in stunned disbelief. ¡°I guess I have a lot to learn,¡± she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.


    ¡°See? You¡¯re already coming around!¡± Belli grinned triumphantly.


    ¡°Will I be okay to travel tomorrow?¡± she asked hesitantly, still adjusting to the surge of energy.


    ¡°Travel?¡± Willow leaned forward, curious. ¡°Where to?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m heading to Siburg if Mr. Finch has a supply run for me. It pays well enough to keep my family going for a couple of months,¡± Lamberra shamefully admitted.


    ¡°No worries!¡± Willow straightened, his grin returning full force. ¡°I¡¯m heading to Siburg too on a military training mission. Shall I accompany you? As repayment for Belli¡¯s sins?


    ¡°Oh, well¡­yes.¡± A rare warmth spread through her chest. ¡°I¡¯ve never traveled with anyone before¡­so the company would be nice,¡± she said chuckling. She finally picked up her spoon, the restored energy making her realize that she was starving. She devoured the soup, its warmth spreading through her bones.


    ¡°The two of you staying at Duke¡¯s inn? Good luck getting him to shut up.¡± Belli''s voice held amusement, her lips twitching as she playfully looked at Lamberra, ¡°or stop staring at you all night.¡±


    ¡°Duke¡¯s?¡± Willow scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t stayed there in years. I usually camp by a lake a few miles past his place,¡± Willow said while leaned back in his chair.


    ¡°Ah. The famous lake,¡± Belli¡¯s tone was dry and unimpressed.


    ¡°What¡¯s the issue? Willow¡¯s lake is BEAUTIFUL.¡± He pleaded. Belli glanced at Lamberra, quietly mocking his dramatic tone. Lamberra laughed, shaking her head as Willow defended his lake. The rest of the night blurred into warmth. Laughter. Card games. Stories told under the skylit ceiling, bathed in silver moonlight. These were her best friends ever since birth, and this is where Lamberra always felt like she belonged.


    When the hour grew late, Belli turned to her, asking, ¡°Would you like to stay in one of the guest rooms tonight?¡±


    ¡°That would be lovely, Belli. Thank you,¡± Lamberra exhaled softly, grateful.


    Belli stepped closer, placing a hand lightly around Lamberra¡¯s bicep with a rare serious expression on her face. ¡°Thank you for trusting me, especially tonight.¡± Her voice was quiet, but firm. Lamberra held her gaze as they stood eye to eye. Belli¡¯s bright purple pupils flickered in the candlelight.


    ¡°My father had a dream of restoring elfen society. Willow and I are trying to complete it,¡± Belli said with her grip becoming looser. ¡°You¡¯ve always treated us like equals, like we''re human. You prove that coexistence is possible. We need you, Lamberra.¡±


    Lamberra¡¯s chest tightened, but her lips curled into a small smile. Lamberra lifted her hand, placing it gently over Belli¡¯s outstretched arm. ¡°You are no different from me. We¡¯re stronger together.¡± Lamberra¡¯s voice was soft but sure.


    Belli exhaled, her shoulders loosened. ¡°If you do go to Siburg with Willow, be careful. It¡¯s been a dangerous road lately according to reports.¡±


    ¡°I think Willow will do just fine as my protector,¡± Lamberra said sweetly. The holding of their arms turned into a long embrace, and then Lamberra made her way to the guest room. She let her hair down, placing the tie around her wrist. She sank into the soft bed as the day¡¯s events swirled in her mind. However, exhaustion claimed her quickly and the world faded to quiet stillness.


    Lamberra jolted awake as her bed shook violently, Willow¡¯s firm hands gripping the wooden frame. His towering form loomed over her, broad shoulders nearly blocking out the slivers of morning light creeping through the curtains.


    ¡°Wake up, Lamberra!¡± His voice boomed with exaggerated enthusiasm, filling the room like a Belli¡¯s thunderclap from last night. She groaned dramatically, rolling toward the edge of the bed before letting herself fall to the floor with a heavy thud.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± she mumbled, sprawled out on the ground like a lifeless body.


    Willow burst into laughter, clearly satisfied with his handiwork. ¡°Time to hit the road!¡± he announced, as if they were embarking on some grand adventure. Lamberra peeled herself off the floor, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I hear you,¡± she grumbled, shuffling into the living room.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Belli?¡± Lamberra asked, scanning the space.


    ¡°Still asleep,¡± Willow replied, his usual sharpness softened with concern. ¡°Honestly, I hope she makes it past midday. She¡¯s been pushing herself too hard.¡±


    Lamberra glanced at him properly for the first time that morning. He looked¡­ different. His crisp black uniform was immaculate, the fabric hugging his frame in a way that emphasized both his strength and his commanding presence. The three white stripes on his right side marked him as a lieutenant, while the burning arrow emblem gleamed on the left¡ªa symbol of the Kingdom of Stormhaven. His fiery red hair, normally wild and free, was tightly pulled into a bun, exposing the rugged scar that curved along the side of his head, ending near the stub of his elven ear. She had never noticed it before. Then again, she had never seen him look so composed before either.


    ¡°Politics and training,¡± he sighed, adjusting the ornate sword at his waist. Its royal purple sheath stood in stark contrast to the rest of his severe uniform. ¡°Shall we swing by Mister Finch¡¯s and your place before we leave?¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°Uh, yes, if you don¡¯t mind?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Willow smirked. ¡°We¡¯ll make the time.¡±


    As they stepped outside, the brisk morning air carried the fading bite of night¡¯s chill, the rising sun battling against the approaching winter. The slum streets were already alive with movement, the scent of damp earth and cooking fires weaving through the air. Nearly everyone they passed saluted Willow.


    ¡°Have you gotten used to it?¡± Lamberra asked, watching him nod in acknowledgment at yet another passerby.


    ¡°To be frank,¡± he muttered, voice tinged with exhaustion, ¡°I have no idea how my father managed it. It¡¯s draining. I wish I could just walk around unnoticed. Like you.¡±


    ¡°I get that,¡± she said softly, sensing there was more to his words than he was letting on. ¡°At least the path to Siburg is quiet,¡± she added. ¡°Hardly anyone uses it aside from merchants or missionaries.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hell. The last thing I need is to deal with some pacifist religious zealot.¡± Willow groaned dramatically.


    By the time they reached Mister Finch¡¯s apothecary, the shop had just opened, but a small line had already formed outside. ¡°No worries,¡± Willow murmured. ¡°The uniform has its perks.¡±


    People instinctively parted for him, their salutes automatic, though they went largely ignored. His presence alone commanded space. Inside, Mister Finch nearly toppled out of his chair at the sight of him. ¡°My Lord! How can I assist you?¡± the old man exclaimed, his voice trembling.


    ¡°Not a lord, old man,¡± Willow said flatly, stepping aside to allow Lamberra forward.


    Mister Finch''s startled expression softened instantly when he saw her. ¡°Oh, Lamberra,¡± he said warmly. ¡°Is everything all right? How can I help?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering if it¡¯s time for the Siburg delivery,¡± she asked. ¡°I can head out today.¡±


    Mister Finch''s entire posture shifted. Relief flooded his face as he nodded quickly. ¡°Yes, please! I¡¯m in desperate need of Isabella¡¯s herbs from Siburg. It would be a great help. Would thirty crowns suffice?¡±


    Lamberra blinked. Thirty? It¡¯s usually just twenty.


    ¡°That would be nice,¡± she said, recovering quickly. ¡°Half now, half upon my return?¡±


    Mister Finch eagerly agreed, fumbling with his coin pouch before handing over the first half. With that, the deal was set. As they stepped out of the shop, Willow chuckled. ¡°Quite the payday for a simple delivery.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s usually less,¡± Lamberra admitted. Then, a thought struck her, and she smirked. ¡°I think he was worried you¡¯d arrest him for underpaying me.¡±


    Willow let out a tired sigh, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. ¡°Even if that were the case, I¡¯m not a knight. I have no arresting power.¡± His voice dropped slightly. ¡°The only thing I¡¯m good at is killing others.¡±


    Lamberra frowned but decided not to push the subject. Instead, she nudged him playfully with her elbow. ¡°Still, the only thing that old man knows how to do is mix herbs.¡±


    Willow¡¯s lips twitched into a faint smile. A flicker of warmth finally broke through his stoic exterior that came with this uniform. By the time they reached her home, that warmth was gone. Selma sat on the porch, her usual gentle smile shifting to panic the moment she spotted Willow. Scrambling to her feet, she brushed off her dress hurriedly, hands fidgeting as if trying to straighten herself out.


    ¡°Selma, don¡¯t bother! Look however you please! This is your home,¡± Willow called out, but it didn¡¯t stop her.


    She whipped around, shouting into the house, ¡°Amara! Get out of your nightclothes this instant!¡±


    Willow sighed, watching the chaos unfold. ¡°Has she always been like this?¡± he chuckled, looking at Lamberra.


    Mama¡¯s attention solely on Willow as he approached. Her dark eyes softened, her expression full of something deep and unspoken. She gave a soft salute and said, ¡°My, how you¡¯ve grown. You look just like your father.¡±


    Her hand brushed gently against his face, lingering just long enough to make Willow pause. Lamberra watched as an almost wistful expression crossed her mother¡¯s face. ¡°I remember when you, Belli, and Lamberra were just children playing by the river,¡± Mama continued. ¡°Your father and I loved to sit and watch you all for hours.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making me blush, Miss Selma,¡± Willow said, his smile warming. Then, in a fluid motion, he knelt onto one knee, taking her hand. ¡°You¡¯ve always honored me.¡±


    Lamberra just stood watching the sweet moment take place, suddenly, a blur of blonde barreled into her.


    ¡°Lamberra!¡± Amara squealed, throwing herself into her sister¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Amara!¡± Mama¡¯s voice snapped with frustration. ¡°I told you to put on your school clothes!¡±


    Amara only giggled, clinging to Lamberra like a burr. Lamberra laughed softly before looking toward her mother. ¡°Mama,¡± she said gently, ¡°I¡¯ll explain while I¡¯ve got you both. Willow and I are making a delivery run to Siburg today. He¡¯s accompanying me both ways.¡±


    Mama¡¯s shoulders visibly relaxed, though her face remained stern. ¡°Good,¡± she said, voice firm. ¡°I feel better knowing you won¡¯t be alone.¡± Lamberra braced herself for the inevitable lecture on safety that followed. Her mother, as expected, did not disappoint. Nodding along, Lamberra finally excused herself, stepping inside to change.


    Lamberra slipped into her travel clothes, adjusting the fit of her dark blue dress. It ended at mid-thigh, its flat white collar giving a slight nod to modesty, though she wore black pants beneath it for practicality. Her worn brown boots hugged her feet comfortably, well-suited for the long journey ahead. With practiced ease, she secured her small sword across her back. Grabbing the bag for Mister Finch¡¯s supplies, she stepped outside, where Mama was already waiting.


    The moment Lamberra emerged, her mother pulled her into a fierce hug. ¡°I¡¯m so glad Willow¡¯s going with you,¡± Mama whispered into her ear, the tension in her arms betraying her attempt at calm. ¡°But please, be careful. Promise me.¡±


    Lamberra returned the embrace, her mother¡¯s familiar warmth grounding her. She knew these trips worried Mama, even if she tried not to show it. ¡°If I¡¯ve come back unharmed the last ten times by myself, I¡¯ll definitely be okay with Willow,¡± she reassured her.


    Mama sighed, finally pulling back, though her hands lingered on Lamberra¡¯s shoulders as if reluctant to let go. But it was Amara who clung the tightest, her small hands wrapping around Lamberra¡¯s waist. The little girl¡¯s face crumbled, and tears welled in her big, innocent eyes.


    ¡°Oh, goodness,¡± Lamberra murmured, crouching to meet her gaze. ¡°You do this every time, little one. It¡¯s just three days.¡± Amara didn¡¯t respond. Instead, she buried her face into Lamberra¡¯s shoulder, sniffling. Lamberra held her close, kissing the top of her tangled golden hair.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Amara,¡± Willow cut in with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure she comes back with at least most of her limbs intact.¡±


    ¡°Willow!¡± Mama scolded, shooting him a glare.


    Amara giggled, her grip loosening slightly as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. Lamberra took the moment to slip free, ruffling her little sister¡¯s hair before rising to her feet. Willow gave her a knowing nod, and together, they set off, Mama¡¯s voice trailing after them with final reminders to stay safe. As they walked down the dirt path leading out of the slums, the sun climbed higher, warming their backs. The streets were lively, bustling with the scent of fresh bread mingling with the sharper tang of damp wood and smoke.


    ¡°I love the outfit,¡± Willow remarked after a stretch of silence, his tone relaxed.


    ¡°Thanks. I figured I should at least try to look halfway decent on the road. No sense in inviting trouble,¡± Lamberra replied, brushing a hand over the fabric.


    ¡°This is true,¡± he agreed, glancing at the small sword on her back. ¡°How good are you with that thing now?¡±


    ¡°About as good as you taught me,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve never had to use it in a real fight, though, and I hope I never have to.¡±


    ¡°You never truly know how skilled you are until it¡¯s life or death,¡± he said, his voice carrying a quiet edge. ¡°But if you stick to the fundamentals, you¡¯ll outmatch most opponents.¡±


    ¡°Right, is that why you made me train until my hands and feet bled?¡± she quipped, rolling her eyes.


    ¡°Hey, you learned, didn¡¯t you?¡± Willow countered with a smirk.


    Lamberra groaned. ¡°Barely. I swear you took some sort of sadistic pleasure in watching me suffer.¡±


    ¡°Not pleasure,¡± Willow replied smoothly, adjusting the strap of his bag. ¡°More like... satisfaction.¡±


    Lamberra scoffed but couldn¡¯t hide her smile. They broke off onto the Siburg road, leaving the lively town behind. The path grew quieter, save for the rhythmic rustle of leaves and the gentle murmur of the river to their right. To their left, the forest stretched deep and dark, its autumn-colored canopy shedding vibrant orange leaves in the cool air.


    As midday approached, Willow called for a break. He pulled a small loaf of bread from his pack and offered it to Lamberra. ¡°Here. Eat,¡± he ordered.


    Lamberra took it, with thanks in her eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to keep your energy up. Too risky otherwise,¡± Willow remarked.


    ¡°True, but when you¡¯re poor, you learn to make do,¡± she said, her voice light despite the weight of her words.


    Willow didn¡¯t respond right away. Instead, he stared off toward the forest, his expression darkening. A subtle tension gathered in his shoulders. Then, suddenly, he held up a hand, silencing her. ¡°How far are we from Duke¡¯s? Three or four hours?¡± His voice was low and sharp now, all the warmth gone.


    Lamberra swallowed. ¡°Closer to five,¡± she answered cautiously. ¡°Maybe four if I keep up with your pace.¡±


    ¡°No more breaks,¡± he said, rising abruptly. ¡°Eat while we walk.¡±


    His intensity unsettled her, but she nodded. ¡°Okay.¡±


    They pressed on, their pace quickening. Lamberra scanned the treeline, her fingers twitching near her sword¡¯s hilt. Had Willow seen something? Felt something? She didn¡¯t ask, if there was danger, she trusted he¡¯d tell her. By the time the wooden structure of Duke¡¯s inn came into view, the sun was dipping low, casting golden streaks through the canopy.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Lamberra breathed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever made it here before sunset.¡± Willow didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he pushed open the creaky door and strode inside. Lamberra followed, the dim warmth of the inn wrapping around her. Behind the counter, Duke sat slumped over his desk, snoring softly.


    ¡°Wake up, Duke,¡± Willow barked, thumping his head.


    Duke jolted upright, coughing as his faded blue eyes snapped open. ¡°Why, hello. My first two patrons this entire week,¡± he rasped.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I want to ask about,¡± Willow said, his tone sharper than before. ¡°Where is everyone? No merchants, no travelers. Has something happened in Siburg?¡±


    Duke¡¯s expression darkened as he shuffled forward, craning his neck to meet Willow¡¯s gaze. ¡°There¡¯ve been a string of muggings along this path for the past month or so,¡± he said, voice low. ¡°It¡¯s scared most folks away. They¡¯re taking the new road now, even if it means a longer trip.¡±


    ¡°Belli said there had been concerning reports on this path lately,¡± Lamberra told Willow, slightly tugging him back.


    ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate, but we won¡¯t be staying here tonight. We need to push closer to Siburg if we want to make it by late morning. Here, take this,¡± Willow handed him several crowns. ¡°Hopefully this will make up for lost business this week.¡±


    Duke nodded solemnly before disappearing into the back. When he returned, he handed them four skinned squirrels. ¡°A good deed deserves another,¡± the old man said with a faint smile. They all nodded in agreement as Lamberra and Willow hit the path again.


    Back outside, Lamberra exhaled. ¡°That explains it. I felt like someone was watching us, but I guess they wouldn¡¯t risk attacking with your uniform in plain sight.¡±


    Willow smirked, but his tone was serious. ¡°Probably not. I wasn¡¯t angry, you know. Just... preparing myself.¡±


    ¡°For?¡±


    Willow¡¯s gaze flickered toward the treeline. ¡°To kill.¡±


    The long hours of walking, paired with the restless night before, had finally caught up to Lamberra. Each step felt heavier than the last, exhaustion pressing into her limbs like iron weights. The cool evening air did little to keep her alert, her body crying out for rest with every sluggish movement. Before she even realized it, her balance faltered, and she leaned against Willow¡¯s side, her legs sluggish and uncooperative.


    Without hesitation or complaint, Willow hoisted her onto his back, his broad frame carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all. His grip was firm, practiced, like this wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d had to carry someone for a long time. ¡°Rest, Lamberra,¡± he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with concern. ¡°Your mana is still nearly depleted. We¡¯ll need it restored soon.¡±


    Lamberra barely managed a nod, too tired to argue. She let her head rest against the back of his neck, the rhythmic sway of his footsteps lulling her toward sleep. But true rest never came. Every jostle of uneven ground, every shift in his pace, kept her caught in the limbo between consciousness and slumber.


    By the time Willow finally set her down, the lake stretched before them, its glassy surface reflecting the full moon. The sight stole what little breath she had left. It was beautiful, the kind of quiet, untouched place that felt like a secret the world had forgotten.


    ¡°So, this is Willow¡¯s lake?¡± Lamberra teased.


    ¡°Sure is, Belli hates it but it¡¯s basically become an inside joke. This is actually Briar Lake,¡± Willow replied, shaking his head toward his sister with a grin.


    Willow immediately set to work gathering firewood, his movements methodical and efficient. The air had already begun to cool, the first whispers of winter creeping through the trees. Lamberra forced herself upright, the weight of exhaustion still heavy in her bones. Lamberra watched Willow light the fire from his fingertips using his fire magic. ¡°Can I help?¡± she asked, her voice hoarse with fatigue.


    ¡°Some more firewood would be helpful,¡± Willow said, brushing soot from his hands. ¡°I can start dinner now, but we¡¯ll need more for the entire night.¡±


    Nodding, she moved toward the trees, gathering larger branches scattered along the ground. The world felt oddly still, save for the distant rustling of leaves overhead. Then, just beyond the treeline, a sound. Faint snapping. The unmistakable crunch of twigs underfoot. Her heart quickened. She clutched the logs tighter to her chest, her gaze darting between the thick trunks of the trees. The fading sunlight made it difficult to see, the shifting shadows playing tricks on her eyes. A cautious step forward and the silence pressed in.


    A blur of movement. A massive elk burst from the undergrowth, its powerful hooves pounding the earth as it tore past her, its breath visible in the cold air. Lamberra gasped, stumbling back. But before she could react, Willow was there, already moving, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw.


    ¡°Just a deer,¡± she exhaled shakily.


    Willow¡¯s stance relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained sharp as he scanned the darkness beyond. Then, after a moment, his laughter broke through the quiet, warm and genuine. ¡°You watch dinner. I¡¯ll finish gathering wood,¡± he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the trees.


    Lamberra returned to the fire, settling onto the ground and turning the skewered squirrels slowly over the flames. The rich scent of roasting meat filled the air, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. The tension in her muscles eased, her breathing slowing to match the crackling rhythm of the fire. Before long, Willow emerged again, carrying an absurd amount of firewood. It was far more than necessary. Lamberra raised an eyebrow, shaking her head as a small laugh escaped her. ¡°Is this for tonight, or are we planning to winter here?¡±


    Willow smirked, dropping the pile beside the fire. ¡°Better to have too much than not enough.¡± Lamberra rolled her eyes but said nothing, stretching out her legs as he settled beside her.


    ¡°With the reports of muggings along the path lately, we should probably take turns on watch,¡± Willow said, poking at the fire with a stick. ¡°Just to be safe.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Lamberra agreed, stifling a yawn. ¡°But you¡¯re up first. I haven¡¯t been this tired in years.¡±


    ¡°I can live with that,¡± he replied, flashing her a rare, genuine smile.


    The flames cast flickering shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He looked different like this. Calm, almost at peace even Lamberra let her head fall back, staring up at the faint stars drowned by the moonlight.


    ¡°Magic training takes a toll,¡± Willow continued after a long pause. ¡°For me, I only have fire magic, and even that¡¯s exhausting. Belli¡¯s probably taught you everything by now, though. If you¡¯ve got healing magic, you can manipulate more than you realize.¡±


    Lamberra hummed in acknowledgment, her mind too sluggish to fully absorb his words.


    ¡°But¡­¡± Willow hesitated, his voice lowering. ¡°I fear what we don¡¯t know. The ¡®unknown.¡¯¡±


    Lamberra turned her head, blinking away sleep. ¡°Hm?¡±


    Willow leaned back, his expression thoughtful. ¡°All elves can manipulate magic, but when humans and elves started having children, humans began inheriting the trait. Somewhere in your family, you¡¯re tied to an elf. That¡¯s the only way you¡¯d have magic.¡±


    Lamberra absorbed this, watching as he handed her two cooked squirrels. She took them, her gaze lingering on the distant look in his eyes.


    ¡°The genocide started because of fear,¡± Willow said after a long silence. ¡°Humans were afraid elves would dominate with magic. They struck first, wiping out entire clans before the elves could fight back. My father always said humans didn¡¯t just fear magic; they wanted to control it, and they succeeded.¡±


    Lamberra chewed slowly, letting his words settle. ¡°So¡­ what we know of magic is essentially limited, and the ones in power have manipulated it and turned it into an unknown weapon we don¡¯t fully understand?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the gist.¡± His voice was clipped, his tone heavy with resignation. ¡°Belli is studying it though. She¡¯s working with elves around the continent and several kingdoms trying to learn as much as she can.¡±


    Neither of them spoke after that. The fire crackled, filling the silence between them. Eventually, Lamberra let her eyes drift closed, exhaustion finally pulling her under. When it was her turn for watch, Willow shook her gently awake.


    ¡°Fuck, it¡¯s cold,¡± she muttered, rubbing her arms as she sat up stiffly.


    ¡°I added fresh wood to the fire,¡± he said. ¡°If you need anything, wake me.¡±


    Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Willow wrapped himself in a blanket, settling where she¡¯d been lying, his sword close at hand. The night stretched on, the fire¡¯s embers glowing red against the dark. Lamberra watched the moon dip lower in the sky, her thoughts wandering aimlessly as the hours passed by.


    Then, there was movement. Much more substantial than large elk from earlier. She froze, gripping the hilt of her sword. At first, she thought it was just the firelight playing tricks on her. But a shape appeared between the trees. A figure, shifting through the darkness. Lamberra¡¯s heart pounded.


    ¡°Willow,¡± she whispered, barely audible.


    Instantly, he was awake, his hand already on his sword. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s someone out there,¡± she murmured, nodding toward the treeline.


    Willow¡¯s eyes narrowed. He rose slowly, motioning for her to stay close. Together, they stood by the fire, the flickering light casting long shadows across the clearing. The forest was silent. Too silent. The fire crackled, the only sound in the heavy stillness.


    A voice called out. It was smoothing and mocking in nature.


    ¡°Hello, hello, travelers,¡± it called from the darkness. A figure stepped forward, just beyond the fire¡¯s light. ¡°Lovely night to camp, huh?¡±

 Ignis Venire

    The air hung thick with unease, as if the entire forest had gone still in anticipation of what was to come. A slight breeze stirred the leaves, but even the wind felt muted, barely audible over the pounding in Lamberra¡¯s chest. The flickering fire cast long, shifting shadows across the clearing, distorting the shapes of the trees into looming specters. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword, the cold steel biting into her palm, grounding her. Something was wrong. Deeply, unmistakably wrong.


    Willow stepped forward, his broad frame partially blocking Lamberra¡¯s view of the figure standing just beyond the fire¡¯s glow. His movements were unhurried, almost casual, as if he had just woken up from a nap and stumbled upon a minor inconvenience. With an exaggerated yawn, he rubbed at his eyes before tossing an unimpressed look toward the stranger.


    ¡°My, aren¡¯t you a little freaky? Full black cloak? You can¡¯t be a mage, so what¡­just playing dress-up to scare people in the woods?¡± Willow¡¯s tone was light, but his stance betrayed his alertness. He was ready. Lamberra swallowed, her gaze darting between the deep shadows of the forest and the man in front of them. She had seen him before. Near the woodline back in the slums. The realization sent a shiver racing down her spine. Had he been following her this entire time?


    ¡°I would never have elven blood in my veins to wield magic,¡± the man sneered, his voice thick with disdain. ¡°Besides, we don¡¯t care about you.¡±


    Lamberra stiffened even more.


    Willow¡¯s eyes flickered toward her, sharp as a blade. ¡°Ah, so you two are responsible for all the attacks on this road lately?¡± he asked, his tone still holding the faintest trace of amusement.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± the man replied with a slow, deliberate smirk. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t say we were ignorant of them either.¡± His head tilted slightly, and the glow of the fire caught the edge of his grin. ¡°More than anything, we just want the girl.¡±


    Lamberra let out a small gasp. Me? Willow¡¯s posture shifted, all pretense of humor vanishing in an instant. His muscles coiled like a tightly wound spring, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.


    ¡°We?¡± he asked, his voice low and dangerous. ¡°I only see you.¡±


    Shadows then stirred. Three more figures emerged from the darkness, their bald heads gleaming under the pale moonlight. Unlike the cloaked man, these newcomers wore stark white robes, their fabric almost glowing in the dim firelight. Was this some sort of a religious cult?


    The cloaked man exhaled, feigning boredom. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who you are,¡± he drawled. ¡°It¡¯s four against one.¡±


    Willow stepped forward, his presence suddenly immense, his sharp purple eyes like his sister¡¯s glinted with something that sent a chill through the air. ¡°The name is Willow Mira,¡± he said, voice ringing out like steel striking stone. ¡°First lieutenant of the Royal Army of Stormhaven. Son of the great General Rowena Mira.¡± He placed both hands on his hips, his confidence unshaken. ¡°I swear it, none of you will see the sunrise.¡±


    The cloaked man hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. But he motioned for the three robed men to move closer. Willow barely turned his head toward Lamberra, his voice a sharp whisper. ¡°If you see an opening, run to Siburg. Report what¡¯s happening. I¡¯ll handle them.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Lamberra¡¯s voice cracked, panic surging through her. ¡°They¡¯ll kill you!¡±


    Willow didn¡¯t acknowledge her fear. His gaze remained locked on the cloaked man, unflinchingly ignoring the others. ¡°So,¡± he said, louder now, ¡°you want the girl. Why?¡±


    ¡°None of your business,¡± the man snapped. His hand twitched, a signal was given. ¡°Your kind is too stupid to understand.¡± The robed men charged.


    Willow¡¯s lips curled into a wicked grin as he raised his sword. ¡°Ignis Corona.¡±


    A ring of fire exploded around them, roaring to life with searing intensity. The attackers stumbled back, momentarily halted by the sudden inferno. The flames danced, casting flickering light over their faces, their faces twisted in shock and hesitation. Willow¡¯s blade shimmered as he channeled the fire¡¯s energy through it, heat rippling in waves around him.


    His blade flicked forward, and the fire obeyed. A streak of flame erupted toward the nearest man, striking before he could dodge. The flames engulfed the lower half of his body in an instant, his screams splitting the night as his robes burned away, flesh charing beneath. The sickening scent of scorched hair and skin filled the air, thick and nauseating.


    Willow let out a low, disappointed groan. ¡°Too easy.¡± He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up. ¡°Come on. Fight.¡± The flames flickered and died, plunging the clearing back into darkness. The cold night air rushed in, biting at Lamberra¡¯s skin, but she barely registered it over the pounding in her chest.


    ¡°Lamberra, why are you still here?¡± Willow¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with frustration. ¡°Go!¡± She didn¡¯t move. Her feet felt like they were sinking into the earth, her heart hammering against her ribs, frozen in fear. Willow snarled, stepping forward just in time to meet the next attacker. Steel clashed against steel, the harsh ring of metal splitting the silence. The two remaining robed men moved in practiced unison, their strikes precise and coordinated, but Willow was faster. His sword wove through the air in deadly arcs, intercepting their attacks with ruthless efficiency.


    One of them lunged, his movements eerily mechanical, as if detached from any human hesitation. Willow sidestepped with ease, his blade flashing upward in a brutal counter strike. The steel cut deep into the man¡¯s forearm, dark blood splattering against the dirt. The man didn¡¯t scream or even flinch. Instead, his body twisted unnaturally, pivoting with an inhuman grace. In a single fluid motion, he thrust his short sword toward Willow¡¯s ribs. Willow barely blocked in time, sparks flying as their weapons met, but the attacker''s sword did graze Willow slightly.


    ¡°Not bad!¡± Willow barked, a grin breaking through the tension.


    Then, Lamberra caught movement in the corner of her eye. One attacker had broken away from the fight and was charging straight toward her.


    ¡°Lamberra!¡± Willow¡¯s shout snapped her back into reality. ¡°Run!¡±


    But Lamberra didn¡¯t. If she ran, and Willow died, what would she tell Belli? That she ran while her brother bled out in the dirt? That wasn¡¯t going to happen, she would never run. The man was nearly on her now, his bald head gleaming under the moonlight, his dead, soulless eyes locked onto hers.


    ¡°Willow!¡± Lamberra screamed, scrambling to raise her sword, but she was too slow.


    His blade came down in a brutal arc, and she barely managed to parry with her own weapon. The impact sent shockwaves through her arms, her wrists shrieking in pain. He pressed in, overwhelming her with sheer strength, his expression never shifting, not even with exertion. Desperation clawed at Lamberra.


    Twisting sharply, she used his own momentum against him, forcing him to stumble. In the split second of hesitation, she swung wildly, her blade grazing his side. A shallow cut, but it was enough to make him hesitate. A thin line of blood hissing, staining his pristine robes. His shock lasted only an instant before he adjusted his stance, readying another flurry of attacks. But before he could strike, Willow barreled into him, knocking him violently to the ground.


    ¡°Stay away from her!¡± Willow¡¯s voice was a snarl, his sword plunging downward.


    The man rolled, narrowly avoiding the killing blow, but not fast enough. Willow¡¯s blade slashed across his thigh, cutting deep. The attacker jerked, an inaudible cry twisting his face in pain, but this cost Willow.


    The other robed man seized the opening, lunging forward. The blade caught Willow¡¯s shoulder, slicing through the fabric of his uniform, a blacker stain blooming across his black uniform.


    ¡°Willow!¡± Lamberra gasped, her left hand instinctively reaching out toward him.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± he snapped, already spinning to parry another strike. His movements didn¡¯t falter, every motion precise, calculated, as if he already knew their next moves before they made them. Blood dripped from his shoulder staining the ground beneath them.


    ¡°I need you to go now!¡± Willow growled, his eyes never leaving the attackers. ¡°There¡¯s an opening!¡±


    Lamberra''s legs finally obeyed, launching her into a desperate sprint through the dense forest. The world blurred past in a chaotic rush, brittle sticks snapping beneath her boots, fallen leaves swirling in her wake. Each gasping breath burned in her chest, the cold air slicing down her throat. There was no plan, no clear direction, only the primal instinct to run, to escape. Lamberra knew she was the reason Willow has gotten injured, twice now. The only way to save him, was to leave him, but she wasn¡¯t fast enough.


    The cloaked man, the one who had been watching, waiting with a predator¡¯s patience, stepped forward, cutting off her path. His presence alone was suffocating, pressing down on her like an invisible weight. His voice, calm yet edged with chilling authority, cut through the night like a blade.


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    The order sent an unnatural hush through the clearing. Even the robed men seemed to pause. The certainty in his tone was absolute. Lamberra skidded to a stop, her breath catching painfully in her throat.


    ¡°Do not let her escape,¡± he commanded, his gaze flicking toward the others. Then, with terrifying speed, he turned and lunged at Willow. Panic clawed at her ribs, urging her to keep running. There was no hesitation, no wasted effort in his stride, just cold precision from the cloaked man. He fought differently than the others, with an ease that spoke of experience, of countless battles fought and won. And for a single, gut-wrenching second, his gaze flicked to her. A moment''s distraction, and it was enough.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Lamberra¡¯s foot caught on a massive tree root. She pitched forward, the ground rushing up to meet her. The impact was brutal, knocking the breath from her lungs in a sharp gasp. The world spun violently as she tumbled, rolling over and over until she finally skidded to a stop against the rough earth. Pain exploded in her side. Her body screamed in protest, but it was the emptiness at her hip that truly sent terror crashing through her. Her sword was gone. Scrambling onto her elbows, she twisted her head, searching desperately. Finding it several feet away, glinting faintly in the moonlight. Too far. She barely had time to register the distant sound of clashing swords before Willow¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, frantic and desperate.


    ¡°Lamberra! Are you okay? Lamberra!¡±


    She couldn¡¯t answer. Couldn¡¯t force a single sound past the tight grip of fear in her throat.


    The rustling of leaves reached her first, steady and relentless. Footsteps, crunching, drawing closer. A shadow moved between the trees, growing larger, closing in. Then she saw him, the white robed man Willow sliced open on the thigh charging at her. They are all changing so fast it was dizzying.


    Her gaze flicked back to her sword, still too far. She tried to push herself backward, but her limbs were sluggish, uncooperative, the sharp sting of pain stealing her strength. The robed man¡¯s sword gleamed in the moonlight, streaked with blood. His face remained eerily blank, unreadable, even as he raised the blade high. Lamberra¡¯s heart pounded so violently it drowned out every other sound. Her arms trembled, her body frozen beneath the crushing weight of helplessness. Her mind whispered a cruel truth at her, that she had lost.


    The thought sinks in, cold and suffocating, curling around Lamberra¡¯s chest like iron chains. Something inside her starts to fracture, cracking beneath the weight of her own helplessness. All the years of scraping by, of convincing herself she was strong enough to endure, that she could carve a better future for Mama and Amara. All of it, pointless. She wasn¡¯t strong enough. She wasn¡¯t special. She was just a girl from the slums, and she was going to die as one. The white-robed man¡¯s face twists in something like triumph as he lunges, his blade aimed straight for her heart. Lamberra¡¯s hands lift instinctively, a pitiful, useless defense. She squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for the strike.


    ¡°Magna Ignis!¡± A voice pierces the chaos, cutting through the night like thunder. The air hums, vibrating with raw energy. A searing orange glow floods the clearing, forcing Lamberra¡¯s eyes open just in time to see Willow stepping forward, his sword outstretched. The blade radiates with pulsing heat, its edge trailing tendrils of flickering flame. At its tip, a fireball begins to form, small at first, then swelling with crackling intensity. Heat rolls off it in waves, distorting the air around him.


    It streaks through the air like a shooting star, illuminating the clearing in its wake. The robed man barely has time to react before it reaches him. He dives at the last possible second, but the explosion still catches him, igniting the dry underbrush and sending embers spiraling into the sky. The shockwave tears through the clearing, shaking the trees, sending Lamberra stumbling as the acrid scent of burning wood and fabric fills her lungs. The man scrambles to his feet, coughing, his robes charred and smoking.


    ¡°Get your sword,¡± Willow commands, his voice unyielding as he channels the spell. ¡°Fight. Remember the fundamentals.¡±


    Lamberra forces her limbs into motion, dragging herself across the ground toward her sword. Her fingers close around the hilt, its weight familiar, grounding. Her heart slams against her ribs as she jerks her head up, searching for the robed man who had nearly killed her, but he¡¯s gone. But where? It doesn¡¯t matter. She doesn¡¯t have time to dwell on it.


    Willow is still fighting, her gaze locks onto and the sight steals her breath. He¡¯s outnumbered. Locked in combat with not just the cloaked man, but another robed attacker. And yet, he moves like the battle is nothing more than a dance. Each strike is precise, each step calculated.


    With a sudden, brutal kick to the chest, Willow sends the cloaked man staggering backward, forcing him to retreat. He wastes no time shifting his focus to the other opponent. Steel meets steel in a clash that rings through the burning clearing, but it¡¯s clear the robed man is outmatched. He¡¯s fast, but Willow is faster. He presses the attack, his sword moving in sharp, punishing arcs. The robed man barely has time to react, too focused on defending, too slow to see Willow¡¯s other hand reaching for his belt. A flicker of steel, and then a clean, precise slash across the robed-man¡¯s throat.


    Blood sprays in the air, dark against the orange glow of the flames. The robed man gurgles, his hands flying to his throat, staggering backward before collapsing into the dirt. Willow doesn¡¯t waste a second. He turns to Lamberra, his voice snapping her back into the present. ¡°Lamberra!¡±


    Her head whips toward him, just in time to see the last robed attacker barreling toward her. Lamberra¡¯s body protests every movement, pain radiating from her side, the faint sting of burns on her cheek from the fireball¡¯s blast. But she doesn¡¯t back down. She grips the hilt of her sword tighter, rising to her feet despite the sharp pull of pain. The man¡¯s blade arcs toward her, and she barely manages to block in time. The force of it reverberates up her arms, her grip nearly faltering. He¡¯s fast. Too fast. His strikes come in rapid succession, each one forcing her back a step.


    Remember the fundamentals, Willow¡¯s voice echoes in her mind.


    Let them think they¡¯re winning. Let them get arrogant. That¡¯s your opening.


    She shifts left, drawing him into an overreach. He takes the bait, lunging forward. But he¡¯s more experienced than she expected, but he recovers quickly, his blade slicing toward her side. Lamberra twists away, the sword tip grazing the fabric of her tunic but missing flesh. The movement costs her balance, sending her stumbling to one knee. The robed man sees his opportunity. His confidence swells. He lifts his blade high, ready to strike, and Lamberra sees it.


    The opening.


    With a surge of desperation, she thrusts her sword upward and the blade sinks into his stomach. The resistance was sickening, the give of flesh and muscle, the way his body jerks as steel tears through him. His eyes widen, his lips parting in a strangled gasp. He shudders, collapsing forward, dragging her down with him.


    Lamberra shoves him off, scrambling back, chest heaving. His body twitches once and then goes still. The clearing is eerily quiet for just a moment, save for the crackle of the flames. Lamberra drops to her knees, clutching her side, the pain now sharp and unrelenting. Blood seeps through her fingers, and her head feels too light, her vision swimming.


    The clash of steel, she turned her head to watch Willow fight the last attacker. Willow and the cloaked man, locked in a brutal exchange of blows. This one was different. More skilled than the others. His movements were sharper, practiced and yet, Willow was still better. Then, with a sudden, precise strike, Willow¡¯s blade cut across the man¡¯s chest.


    The hood fell, and you could see his face illuminated by the flickering firelight. Dark red eyes, compared to Willow¡¯s bright crimson hair. Long black hair, cascading down his back. For the first time, true panic filled the cloaked man¡¯s face.


    ¡°GWUH,¡± was the scream that tore from Lamberra¡¯s throat, raw and guttural. Pain erupted through her chest, white-hot and all-consuming, as she felt the blade sink deep into her upper right side, and being ripped through towards her shoulder. She barely registered the attacker, the man she had just stabbed who was gurgling his last breath beside her a second ago. His dead, glassy eyes locked onto hers, unseeing, his lips slightly parted in an expression that almost seemed surprised. The man finally took his last breath, striking the ground.


    Lamberra¡¯s vision blurred. The night stretched around her, too big, too vast, the firelight flickering in chaotic patterns. Her body swayed, her balance slipping, and then it was just darkness that surged forward as she collapsed.


    ¡°Lamberra!¡± Willow''s voice was sharp, desperate, and angry.


    His instincts roared louder than his thoughts. In one swift motion, he disarmed the cloaked man, yanked him forward by the collar, and slammed him against a tree. The tip of his sword pressed just below the man¡¯s jaw, his knuckles white from how tightly he gripped the hilt.


    The man¡¯s breath hitched, his body trembling. ¡°P-please,¡± he stammered, his voice high-pitched, weak. ¡°I can save her! I swear! It¡ªit was just a bounty! We were only hired for this! We¡ªwe didn¡¯t know¡ª¡±


    Willow¡¯s grip tightened. His face was a mask of stone, cold fury flickering behind his violet eyes. ¡°Ignis Venire,¡± he murmured.


    A spark ignited at the tip of his blade, small at first, almost delicate. Then in an instant, it roared to life. A jet of searing flame shot forward, blindingly fast. The cloaked man barely had time to open his mouth in horror before the fire tore through his skull, snapping his head back with an awful, wet sound. His lifeless body slumped to the forest floor, smoke curling from the gaping hole where his face had been.


    Willow didn¡¯t look at him again. He was already at Lamberra¡¯s side, falling to his knees in the blood-soaked dirt.


    ¡°Lamberra! Talk to me.¡± His voice cracked. She wasn¡¯t moving. The dim glow of firelight flickered over her face, making her look paler than he had ever seen her.


    Then she coughed. Blood splattering her lips. Relief slammed into him so hard he almost lost his breath.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she rasped, her voice barely audible. Her lips curved weakly into something that tried to be a smile, but it faltered almost instantly. ¡°It¡¯s not a deep wound¡ª¡± A laugh tried to slip out, but all that came was another cough, and this one worse. More blood came pouring from her mouth. Willow¡¯s gut twisted. His hands worked fast, pressing against her wound.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± he ordered, his voice tight with control. He tore at her shirt, exposing the injury and her chest. She flinched, embarrassment flickering through her dazed expression. Her left hand weakly tried to tug her torn clothing back, but her right arm barely responded. Lamberra realized she couldn¡¯t move her right arm at all.


    ¡°No time for modesty,¡± Willow muttered. His mind was already racing through every solution. He could stop the bleeding, but that won¡¯t be enough.


    ¡°You¡¯ve healed yourself before,¡± he reminded her, his tone urgent. ¡°Remember? When you were a kid?¡± Lamberra¡¯s hazy eyes met his. She did remember. But only because people had told her about it, how she had survived a fatal wound when no one should have.


    Willow didn¡¯t wait for her response. He lifted his sword and whispered to it and the metal flared red-hot. Lamberra¡¯s eyes widened in horror. She understood too late.


    ¡°No¡ª¡± she tried to rasp out, but then the pain came. A searing, blinding agony that swallowed her whole.


    ¡°GWUHHH,¡± The iron pressed against her chest, as she screamed. A ghastly, guttural sound ripped from her throat, unlike anything she had ever made before. The scent of burnt flesh filled the night air, thick and suffocating. Willow pressed harder, ensuring it cauterized all the way through. His own hands were shaking.


    ¡°Stay with me!¡± he shouted, gripping her hand tight enough to leave bruises. ¡°Lamberra, look at me! Stay awake!¡±


    Her head rolled slightly facing away from him. Her dark brown hair was drenched in blood.


    ¡°No, no, no. Stay with me!¡± Willow shook her gently, panic rising.


    Her eyelids fluttered. Her lips parted, as if to say something, and then her body slackened. The cold crept into her limbs and her vision darkened at the edges. Willow¡¯s voice was still calling for her but she was already slipping into the abyss.


    Willow didn¡¯t hesitate. He hoisted Lamberra onto his back, her body limp and burning with feverish heat, her weight unsettlingly light against him. She was too still. Too quiet. He could feel her shallow breaths against his neck, each one weaker than the last. Then, he ran.


    His boots pounded against the dirt, leaves and debris kicking up in his wake as he tore through the darkened forest toward Siburg. Every muscle screamed in protest, but he ignored it. His breaths came fast and sharp, but he forced himself forward, pushing harder. There was no other option. He had to get her to Siburg before it was too late.


    Lamberra shifted slightly, her fingers twitching against his chest, and for a moment, hope surged in him. But when he glanced back, her eyes remained closed, her face pale as death. The seared wound across her chest had stopped bleeding, but the damage was done. She was dying.


    ¡°I know you can hear me. Stay with me, Lamberra,¡± he muttered, his voice raw as he pressed forward, his strides never faltering. ¡°Just hold on a little longer.¡±


    The trees blurred past him, their skeletal branches stretching overhead, illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight breaking through the canopy. The weight of the night pressed in, but he kept going, kept running, each step fueled by sheer determination. Willow clenched his jaw, pushed faster. If Siburg was still two hours away, he¡¯d make it in one, but Lamberra¡¯s breaths were becoming weaker and weaker, until Willow couldn¡¯t feel them anymore.