ã€ŠThe Path To Daemonhoodã€‹


 Chapter One

    Ugh¡­ it¡¯s cold.

    A foul odour hangs in the air. A stench I¡¯ve never smelt before, but instinctually, I know what it is.

    The stench of death.

    My body lays on its back, in a mangled and uncomfortable position, half-buried amongst corpses warm and cold, chucked in a ditch soon to be my grave, my life slowly slipping away as blood oozes from the open wound in my gut.

    After everything I did.

    Doing my best to live the best life I could.

    This is what I get.

    Great.

    I just wish I wasn¡¯t so¡­ aware of what¡¯s around me. I thought, or even hoped, that I¡¯d go numb by now as I succumbed to my injuries. That stench in the air, of death and something¡­ burning. The bodies strewn around, across, and under mine. The bony ridges of what¡¯s probably a skull pressing hard into my back.

    The fact that I feel¡­ almost fine? Is this some sort of trick the dying mind plays on itself¡­? Like I could just open one eye like everything was fine¡­

    Upon half-opening one eye, it¡¯s immediately apparent that things are not fine. The sky is red. Either from the sunset, or the source of whatever that burning smell is coming from, I don¡¯t know. This was a bad idea. At least I can¡¯t feel any pain. Discomfort, sure, but it could be worse.

    Guess I¡¯ll just close my eyes and wait to die.

    ¡­

    I don¡¯t know how much time has passed. I don¡¯t want to open my eyes to find out. The smell of something burning is still there, and I don¡¯t want to figure out what that is, and that skull against my back is actually starting to hurt now. Weird that I can feel mild discomfort, but not the pain of multiple stab wounds. I don¡¯t know. Just¡­ get this over with. I want this to be over.

    ¡­

    Okay.

    Dying is taking longer than I expected. I almost don¡¯t think I am dying. I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯ve lost any blood, and the only pain is this bony protrusion against my back that¡¯s really starting to get to me. Thinking about it, my whole body hurts with this haphazard position I¡¯m in.

    I haven¡¯t moved in ages, but can I¡­?

    My finger moved. Across what feels like another¡­ oh screw this.

    My eyes open and I sit upright. I¡¯m sitting on a pile of skulls in some dark cave. Not a pile of bodies, or even a pile of skeletons, but a pile of skulls. It¡¯s neither warm nor cold, but the air is heavy with a strong earthy scent that smells somewhere between the smell of soil after it¡¯s rained, and the iron-heavy scent of spilt blood, with that background whiff of something foul burning. I can see what I think is the sky through a hole above me; dark, starless, with a foreboding glowing red.

    This is hell, isn¡¯t it.

    I, Marina Retali, third daughter of the Retali family, have died and gone to hell.

    This sucks.

    I¡¯m sitting on a pile of skulls, the sky is red, there¡¯s a burning earthy smell, that¡¯s like, hell bingo. Screw this. I¡¯m just going to lay back down, get back to dying, and wait for this nightmare to finally end- Shit!

    Rather than peacefully laying back down and accepting my fate, I lose my balance, slip, and slide all the way down this pile of skulls to the bottom, disembodied skulls bouncing down past me before everything settles and I¡¯m now sitting on my arse at the bottom of the highly concerning pile of skulls I woke up in.

    I seem to have misjudged the distance of¡­ huh? Were my hands always- no. These aren''t my hands.

    I take my first good look down at myself, and¡­

    This definitely isn¡¯t the body I died in. I was 15 years and one day old when I died, but now¡­ I look to be in my early 20s.

    Tch, guess I¡¯m a late bloomer no matter what.

    I seem to be wearing what I was wearing when I died, just, aged up a bit and conveniently tailored to fit my new, more mature form. Button up shirt, check. Pants, check, belt, check, boots, check, underwear¡­ good enough¡­ Hair¡­ longer. It used to be dark brown, but now it¡¯s so dark it¡¯s practically black, and the tips are now bright red. Wow, they give you a makeover when you get to hell? How thoughtful. My hair feels soft to the touch, although I keep bumping my ears as if they¡¯re¡­ bigger¡­?

    They have points.

    They¡¯re longer and they have points?! Am I an elf now? Is this elf hell?! But why would I be sent to elf hell if I¡¯m human¡ªunless¡­

    Hold on¡­ hmm. I never saw an elf myself, but people say they have super long ears, and these are too short to fit the bill for that. I could really use a mirror, but I doubt I¡¯ll find anything like that down here, haha¡­ hah¡­

    This really sucks¡­

    Ugh. Sure, this sucks, but enough moping. I¡¯m clearly still alive and in one piece, so I guess it¡¯s time I try to get up¡­ at least my legs work, and my balance is fine. Yeah, this is probably hell, but I¡¯m alive, and everything feels more or less real.

    Too real. It seems that since the moment I ¡°woke up¡± here, this place has been assaulting my senses with simultaneous, contradictory feelings. It¡¯s cold and clammy, and the air is stale, yet the pervasive smell of something burning cuts through, and the ground is muddy and slick. It¡¯s just¡­ uncomfortable.

    At least I got here in one piece, nothing¡¯s missing, and I seem to have gained a few years¡¯ maturity.

    Whatever¡­ whatever any of that even means. Am I just taking this in my stride really well, or has this new reality not sunk in yet? I definitely died. My whole family probably died. Our homes torched, dragged out into the open to be cut down and butchered, but¡­

    That feels distant, now. That could have happened years ago, given I¡¯ve suddenly grown up. No matter what happened¡­ I¡¯m alive down here.

    Now to figure out wherever¡­ ¡®here¡¯ is. Beyond the pile of skulls in a cave I woke up in.

    I walk a few steps towards the exit of the cave in front of me. The closer I get to outside, the thicker the air gets, but at least it feels warmer. I tentatively step outside the cave onto a ledge. I seem to be on a hill, with what is certainly a¡­ view.

    What stretches out before me is not what I expected.

    There¡¯s trees, but not¡­ normal ones. They¡¯re twisted and gnarled, with scratch marks all over their trunks and leering faces carved into their bark; they¡¯d look dead if it wasn¡¯t for the dark red leaves covering their branches. They bend and claw upwards to the sky, forming a thick red canopy and blotting out any light beneath their leaves. A thick grey fog hangs just above the treeline, illuminated in dark reds and oranges like the glow of a distant forest fire. Small, glimmering lights shine through the fog - stars, perhaps, but what stands out most starkly are the distant, towering black cliffs that stretch in every direction¡­ as if I¡¯m in the middle of a giant hole in the earth.

    Despite the heat and dry air outside, the ground is still as muddy and damp as it was in the cave. A thick, iron-heavy smell like that of old dried-up blood fills my nose, making it difficult to breathe in. Oh, and the smell of blood is probably coming from the small but no less noticeable waterfall of blood directly to the left of the cave entrance I just came from. Really, swap the red and orange for dark greens and blues, and this place makes for a picture-perfect cursed swamp that travellers and children disappear in. There don¡¯t seem to be any insects at least, but still.

    This sucks.

    Fortunately, there¡¯s a rough path leading down from this hill that disappears into the trees. I don¡¯t know where it goes, but it can¡¯t be that much worse than the Cave Full of Skulls with Waterfalls of Blood that is right behind me. I hope.

    I carefully make my way down the path, which follows alongside the shallow stream of blood from the water¡­ blood-fall. Actually, on closer inspection, it doesn¡¯t look thick enough to be pure blood, but it¡¯s still got that unmistakable red hue and the sickly smell of it. Watered-down blood is still blood.

    The strong, earthy smell in the air starts to subside into something wholly different and unexpected as I draw closer to the trees. Something smells¡­ sweet. Sugary-sweet. It¡¯s coming from the trees. It¡¯s a little difficult to look up at them, what with their twisted forms and wicked faces towering over you, but if you look past that, you notice the distinct shape of the leaves.

    Maple leaves.

    There¡¯s a gash in the trunk of a tree at eye level, with dark orange sap oozing from it, which I lean in and sniff.

    It looks like maple syrup.

    It smells like maple syrup.

    Will it taste like maple syrup?

    Should I even be considering tasting a fluid leaking from a tree with angry faces scratched into its bark in a giant dark hole full of fire and blood? Isn¡¯t this how you get trapped in hell forever, by consuming its forbidden food?

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡­

    It tastes like maple syrup.

    Well, I¡¯m probably stuck here forever, but at least there¡¯s a source of food. Logically, to survive, I also need shelter and clean drinking water. But is survival here possible? Yes, I¡¯m standing on a path that seems to have been trodden before, and the pile of skulls I woke up on means that there have probably been others here, as much as I¡¯m trying not to think too much about just how a pile of skulls formed there. Point is, I¡¯m alive, I may as well keep living.

    I¡¯m still in sight of the hill and the cave I woke up in. That¡¯s the only landmark I know of, so I¡¯ll try to use it to orient myself. If I can¡¯t find anywhere suitable¡­ a cave¡¯s safer than being out in the open. I¡¯ll continue along the path, keeping count of my paces to track how far I¡¯ve travelled. If I really can¡¯t find shelter, that cave I woke up in may have to do.

    Fifty paces.

    The path winds amongst the trees, which now grow up along cliffs about two metres high on either side of the path, severely limiting my peripheral vision, but at the same time, the cliffs coupled with the thick canopy of trees keeps me out of sight. The dirt is dark brown, or even a very dark red, the colour of blood that¡¯s long since dried out. Despite being under all these trees, I haven¡¯t seen any leaf litter on the ground.

    One hundred paces.

    It¡¯s hard to settle or focus on anything. The air feels heavy and dry, even as my feet slog through the mud. The trees creak quietly and something burns, yet a smothering silence hangs over the land, as if nothing, not even the trees, wants to make a noise too loud, lest something hears it.

    One hundred and fifty.

    The unnatural quiet is only broken by my boots squelching through this mud, which seems to get thicker the further I walk, building up on my boots and making it harder to walk. I¡¯d get a stick to scrape it off, yet there are none on the ground, and I don¡¯t feel inclined to climb the slight cliffs on either side of the path and break one off a tree.

    Two hundred.

    The sweetness from the tree¡¯s sap has slowly turned bitter on my tongue as the oppressive air closes in around me. I have to concentrate on each breath, and each step is heavier than the last. I¡¯ve stopped twice to get the mud off my boots as best I can, but the moment I start walking again, that quickly becomes in vain.

    Two hundred and fifty.

    Just¡­ keep. Keep moving. One foot in front of the other¡­

    Two hundred and sixty¡­

    I stop in my tracks, jolted out of my exhausted state of mind as I suddenly find myself in an opening, the trees and cliffs having given way to a small clearing. Just off the track, a hooded figure wrapped in robes sits on a log by a small campfire. I go to step back, but somehow, I¡¯m already too far into the clearing to not have been noticed by now.

    A hooded figure, by a fire, in hell. There¡¯s nothing good about this situation. I¡¯ll just¡­ take another step back

    ¡°You needn¡¯t fear me, child.¡±

    I freeze as he speaks, my body turning cold and numb. Is this his power? Have I already lost?

    ¡°You have little reason to trust me, this is true. You needn¡¯t worry for your safety, child. You are safe, with those by your side.¡±

    Those what? What¡¯s by my side other than my wings?

    ¡­

    My what?

    My wings.

    ¡­

    My¡­

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡±

    I yell out, spinning around to try and get a better look at them. I have wings. Giant, dark red, feathered wings. Are these mine? I didn¡¯t even feel them on my back, were they always here? Were these wings the warmth I was feeling when I was half-buried in that skull pile? Was I, were I-

    ¡°Did you do this to me?!¡±

    ¡°You have received a gift, that is true, but it is not of my making, child. Come, have a seat. You must have much on your mind.¡±

    He gestures to the log across the fire from him with his normal-looking hand, his voice calm and steady in the face of my freak-out.

    Have a seat. Have a- I¡¯ve only just been enlightened to the fact that I have fucking wings and you¡¯re telling me to sit down?! I-

    Well, my legs feel kind of wobbly actually, so I will take a seat. I take him up on his offer, sitting down on the log across from him. He smiles.

    ¡°You seem quite exhausted, child. You looked like you needed a rest.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly see anywhere that looked like a comfortable place to take a breather. I wasn¡¯t walking for that long, either¡­¡±

    The warmth of the campfire reminds me how cold the air has suddenly become. I huddle closer to it, my wings clinging to my sides to¡­ they¡¯re kinda warm. And soft. Did I tell them to huddle around me? Are they just wired to my subconscious?

    ¡°You have only just been acquainted with your new friend, hmm? You must have been quite distracted to have not noticed them sooner.¡± He chuckles.

    The lines on his cheeks and the wrinkles near his eyes tell how many times he¡¯s laughed in his life. I almost can¡¯t tell if the warmth is coming from the campfire, or him. He¡¯s exactly the kind of person you¡¯d be pitted against to bring your guard down before something terrible happens.

    ¡°You are wise not to trust me quickly, child. This is a harsh land, inhabited by fell beasts and harsher people. You have a gift that is a true rarity - perhaps the first of its kind in this land. Such a gift would likely draw others ¡®ire in such a terrible place as this, child. You would do well to hide them from other¡¯s sight. So I leave you with a gift of my own, and¡­ some advice.¡±

    I blink, and he¡¯s suddenly standing behind me, draping a short cloak over my shoulders. Before I can spin around to push him away, he continues:

    ¡°You, who have known death twice. Your path does not end within this hole, nay; it leads to the world beyond. You must live. You must guide. You must spread your wings and fly to the world beyond. Only you, having known death twice, will live life thrice. You must go, child, and deal unto those; what they have so wrongfully dealt upon you.¡±

    ¡°You-!¡±

    He¡¯s gone.

    The uncomfortable quiet sets in fast. Whatever. I yank off the cloak, but I halt before throwing it to the ground once I realise how¡­ well-made it feels. It feels like some sort of soft linen with a fur lining around the top, and¡ª

    One of my wings pokes at the cloak. I didn¡¯t¡­ Did I make it do that? Was that subconscious? Can I make it stop- no, it¡¯s still poking it. I can¡¯t directly control these things, that¡¯s uh¡­ wait, huh? Half my wing pokes its way into the cloak, but it doesn¡¯t come out the other side. Is this cloak magic in some way?

    I stick my arm in it, and rather than pushing the cloak aside, my arm just¡­ goes into it, like there¡¯s an empty space inside it. One side of the cloak is normal, but the other is enchanted or something that lets me stick stuff in them.

    Do I look inside it?

    No. No, I''m not sticking my head in the pocket dimension cloak. Okay. I have wings and a magic item, now. And a mission, I guess.

    Looking up at the sky, which is almost clear of fog above this clearing, he said to escape this ¡®hole¡¯... I have wings, so I can fly, right? It can¡¯t be that hard.

    I tuck the cloak into my belt, look up to the sky, and¡­

    I have absolutely no idea how to fly.

    Maybe my wings know how to fly?

    Hey, wings, if you can uh¡­ hear me, can you fly? Can you make me fly?

    My wings spread out to their full extent¡ªeach wing wider than I am tall¡ªslowly reaching up, and¡­ they tilt upwards, then recede in a motion that feels a lot like a shrug.

    Did my wings just¡­

    ¡°Did you just shrug at me? You¡¯re wings and you don¡¯t even know how to fly?!¡±

    ¡°You are correct, I do not know how to fly. However, I did not shrug, nor am I wings.¡±

    A voice says out loud, as I heel-turn to face the source of it¡ª and it¡¯s the old hooded guy again, sitting on his log beside the fire like nothing¡¯s happened.¡±

    ¡°Wh- You¡¯re still here?!¡±

    ¡°You were busy inspecting the cloak I gave you. I never left. Where would I go?¡±

    He¡­ has a point.

    ¡°Okay so two things.¡± I start, sitting back down on the log. ¡°First, why can¡¯t I control my wings, and second, is this cloak some magic item of holding that I can stick things inside?¡±

    The man gives another warm, disarming smile, but I know better than to let my guard down now.

    ¡°You ask more than I know. The cloak is enchanted to hide things within it, yes, as for your wings, they are as new to this world as you are. A bird is not born knowing how to fly, it can only try.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just the fact that I or they don¡¯t know how to fly, it¡¯s that I can¡¯t¡­ ¡®feel¡¯ them on my back. I only feel them when I touch them.¡±

    ¡°You are unfamiliar with your wings, as they are with you. In time, you will come to know one another. You needn¡¯t worry about their loyalty to you.¡±

    Well¡­ they haven¡¯t done anything to hurt me. They may have touched things without me realising, but they just seem to be curious about their surroundings.

    ¡°So, uh, is this what you do? Sit by the road and give magic items to strangers when they arrive in hell?¡±

    ¡°You are no more familiar with these lands than I am, I¡¯m afraid. The cloak is simply an item that felt better off in your hands than in mine.¡±

    ¡°... Do you have any other magical items under your robe that you¡¯re willing to donate?¡±

    ¡°Sadly not, child.¡± He chuckles. He then stands, looking out beyond the trees. ¡°You would be wise to move along from here, before the blood rain comes. It can be very hard to wash it out of your clothes.¡±

    The what- the blood rain?

    Before I can get a word out, the man has already turned around and is walking past the clearing along the path. I start to run, nearly falling over as my wings decide to flap forwards to help get me moving¡ªI guess they¡¯re not satisfied with his answers either.

    I catch up to him pretty quickly, surprisingly. For someone who moves so fast, he¡¯s a slow walker.

    ¡°So you were saying that my wings really do have a mind of their own? They¡¯re entirely separate and possess their own will, yet are still conjoined with me?¡±

    The old man gives a sideways glance as he keeps walking.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t question the blood rain. Interesting.¡±

    ¡°I saw a whole blood waterfall when I got here. Of course it rains blood.¡±

    ¡°You are correct; your wings are not yet part of you. That is why¡­¡±

    He stops and puts his hand on my shoulder, looking me in the eyes. In a place as fantastical and unnerving as this, the plainness of his features are both reassuring and unsettling. I flinch as he touches me, and my wings splay out and point their¡­ strangely sharp-looking feathers at him, ready to strike. He continues, with a small smile.

    ¡°It is best if you keep your wings hidden. So they may learn from you, without making¡­ rash actions of their own.¡±

    Given the fact that I can¡¯t consciously stop my wings from pointing at him, he has a point. It¡¯s concerning how on-the-ball he is. I grab the cloak from my belt, looking down at it.

    ¡°Do I, uh¡­ just put this on and ask my wings to go into it?¡±

    He chuckles lightly at my question, taking his hand off my shoulder.

    ¡°You will certainly bond with them quickly if you are so polite to them.¡±

    I wrap the cloak around my shoulders, tying the strings at the front around my neck. My wings are clinging low to my sides, so I awkwardly reach behind myself and lift the cloak up.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, wings, in you get. If it¡¯s like any other magic pocket item it should be safe¡­ I think.¡±

    My wings lift themselves up, reaching into and nestling themselves inside the cloak as it falls against my back. I reach behind to feel the back of the cloak, and it doesn¡¯t feel like there¡¯s wings hidden in there at all. I could probably store other things in there, if I figure out how big that pocket dimension is. This cloak is¡­ awfully convenient to just be given to me the day I get here. Magic items take many forms, but none of them are common; especially one enchanted to hold things in a pocket dimension. Are magic items more common in hell¡­? I look up to ask,

    ¡°Are you supposed to be my guide or guardian spirit down here, or-¡±

    He¡¯s gone. Again.

    I spin around on the spot, no sign of him, not even footprints in the mud. He can¡¯t have gone far, right?

    ¡°Hey, old guy? You¡¯re still around, right?¡±

    Nothing. He doesn¡¯t look to be back by the fire in the clearing behind us, so he must have gone ahead. I start running down the path, hoping to catch up to him. He can¡¯t have gone that far so quickly. There¡¯s high cliffs and tree trunks all along this path, so he can¡¯t have gone anywhere else but forward. Right?

    I haven¡¯t been counting my paces. I¡¯ve just been running, as fast and as hard as I can.

    How far have I run? How long have I been running? My legs won¡¯t stop moving. I have to find him. He¡¯s probably the only decent person I¡¯ll find in this hellhole. I have no idea where I am or what I¡¯m doing. I have to find him. I have to, I¡ª

    I come skidding to a halt as I suddenly find myself in another clearing. There¡¯s a group of people. They all look at me, with angry red eyes and glowing white pupils¡ªmonsters? Demons? They have weapons. I need to get out of here. I go to turn around, to go running back to the path, and-

    ¡°Wrong move, girl.¡±

    My face hits the mud, and I pass out on the spot.

 Chapter Two

    Where¡­

    My ears are ringing¡­ I can¡¯t think¡­ Can¡¯t¡­ stay awake¡­

    ¡­

    Ugh¡­ It¡¯s really one disaster after the other, huh.

    I¡¯m being carried somewhere¡­ My arms and legs are bound with rope, and there¡¯s a rag stuffed in my mouth.

    Even if I wanted to, I can¡¯t move, and I can¡¯t- no, slipping away¡­ again¡­

    ¡­

    I¡¯m conscious, again.

    A strange, sweet smell is the first thing I notice as I realise I¡¯m awake once more.

    My ears are still ringing, and it¡¯s hard to ignore the ringing when the group of people carrying me off is so¡­ quiet. They don¡¯t talk amongst themselves, they don¡¯t cough or grunt, they walk as silently as they can. I noticed the strange quiet that hung over this place when I got here, and a group of people moving like this only reinforces the fact that being noisy isn¡¯t a good idea.

    I can now, quite uncomfortably, feel that my legs are bound with rope around my calves and ankles, and my arms are behind my back, my wrists tied together by rope.

    The rope chafes painfully against my exposed skin on my wrists and ankles. If I can just- Ow!

    As I shift a little in my bonds, something sharp is jabbed into my thigh, making me yelp and my head jerk upwards, only to see a pair of blood-red eyes with bright white pupils staring at me, and the owner of those eyes holding a finger over his mouth, wordlessly telling me to keep quiet. I should probably do what he says, so I keep as still and quiet as possible.

    It would seem I¡¯m being carried over someone¡¯s shoulder, with my head near their back. Whoever jabbed me in the thigh isn¡¯t the person that glared at me and told me to be quiet, but¡­

    The exertion of that movement suddenly hits me, as the strength quickly leaves my limbs.

    Rather than resisting its pull, I don¡¯t really have anything to do, so, I may as well get some more rest, as I let my consciousness slip away again.

    ¡­

    Wherever I¡¯m being taken to, it sure is far away, given I¡¯ve passed out like four times and we¡¯re still not there.

    The shoulder I¡¯m unceremoniously being carried on does feel less tense than earlier, though, and there¡¯s the occasional murmur amongst the group.

    ¡°Where do you think this one¡¯s from? Harv¡¯s lot?¡± A young, male-sounding voice asks in a hushed tone.

    ¡°Doubt it. No weapons; likely an outcast.¡± An older one answers, with a voice that sounds like it¡¯s gargled gravel every day of its life.

    I don¡¯t know what a ¡°Harv¡¯s lot¡± is, but, an outcast? Me? These people that captured me must be part of a larger group or settlement if they¡¯re taking me somewhere pretty far from where they found me. It¡¯s hard to tell how much time has passed; the thick fog and the red glow obscuring the sky doesn¡¯t make it easy to tell what time of day it is, if¡­ this place has days, let alone a sun.

    If it truly was stars I was seeing through the fog when I got here, it was probably some time at night, then. Of course, draped across a shoulder as I am, I can¡¯t exactly look up at the sky to check how bright it is.

    I must say, though. I¡¯m remarkably calm given the fact that I¡¯ve just been captured and kidnapped. I could be being dragged off to be eaten or sacrificed or something, but, I¡¯m in hell already. How much worse can it get, aha¡­

    ¡°Why¡¯re we bringing this one back, anyway. Could have just left ¡®em where we found ¡®em.¡± The man carrying me suddenly speaks up, his voice flat and glum.

    ¡°We were sent out to harvest sweettree sap. Why are we bringing back a captive?¡± The young male voice asks again.

    ¡°Because I said we are.¡± The gruff, gravelly voice answers.

    Sweettree sap? Do they mean the¡­ maple syrup? Now that I think of it, that¡¯s the smell that¡¯s been hanging over this group the whole time I¡¯ve been with them. If they came all this way just for maple syrup, then, they must be part of a settlement of some sorts.

    A settlement of demons, presumably. Humans don¡¯t have red eyes and glowing white pupils. Although¡­

    They all had pointed ears, like me. Do I also have red eyes and white pupils? Does this mean I¡¯m a demon, or are these people still human like me? The stories I was told growing up was that hell was full of all sorts of monsters and demons; horned humanoids with scaly tails and leathery wings, that could crush a boulder with their bare hands or drain your life force with a single touch. They didn¡¯t mention anything about their eyes or ears, though, and I don¡¯t have horns, a tail, or wings- geh?!

    My train of thought is interrupted by something soft rubbing against my nape. Was that my wings touching me- Yes. Yes it is.

    Hello, wings. Sorry I forgot about you for a moment, I¡¯m still getting used to having you around.

    Although¡­

    The people that captured me¡­ don¡¯t seem to know about you, wings. They haven¡¯t removed my cloak, and they didn¡¯t, well¡­ check me for wings.

    Hmm.

    We¡¯ve been moving for quite a while now, so I hope we¡¯re getting close to our destination, wherever it is. I try to look up, and¡­ yep, the same guy from earlier is still staring a hole in me.

    I try to avoid staring back into his eyes as best I can, but he leans closer. Right up in my face.

    ¡°You¡¯re a long way from home, girl.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no shit¡± is the message I try my best to convey via staring at him. I go to rest my head down, only for the group to abruptly halt, and a commotion to start.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been moving all damn day, Rann. It¡¯ll be another five hours¡¯ march to get back with the vagabond in tow. We either camp, cut ¡®em loose, or cut ¡®em. I ain¡¯t taking another step forward.¡±

    For a moment I thought I was still in the depths of my concussion after hearing a pitch-perfect, new-world ¡°Bostonian¡± accent, but the threat of ¡°cut ¡¯em¡± quickly snaps me back to the objective reality of my situation.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    A silence hangs in the air for a moment.

    ¡°Fine. We camp. Blindfold the prisoner first.¡± That gravelly voice answers.

    Blindfold?! Wait¡ª

    Before I even start to struggle, a piece of cloth is wrapped around my head, covering my eyes. I¡¯m then finally lifted off that shoulder I¡¯ve been carried on for I don¡¯t know how long, and dumped right on my arse on the floor. At least the dirt here is dryer than the mud I was trudging through earlier.

    With no other options available, I just sit up and listen to the hustling and bustling around me as this group sets up camp. Going by how many I saw earlier and the number of footprints I could count while being held upside-down, there¡¯s about eight of them, give or take. They sound like they¡¯re all male and of varying age groups. Compared to earlier, they¡¯re not trying to move so quietly, so we must be far enough away from¡­ whatever the thing that you¡¯re not supposed to be loud around is.

    That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m safe from them, though. If I just sit quietly, hopefully, they won¡¯t notice or do¡­ anything¡­ to me.

    I¡­ I¡¯m really getting the short end of the stick again, huh? Murdered, died, ended up in hell, kidnapped in hell. Probably going to be murdered again sometime soon, after they¡¯ve had their fun with me. Eight guys, one girl, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of hell. You don¡¯t need much of an imagination to figure out what comes next. I just¡­ I just hope it¡¯s quick. I hope it doesn¡¯t hurt much, I¡­ hahaha¡­ this really, really sucks¡­

    ¡°Ay big guy, the hell did you do to the captive to get her cryin¡¯ like this? She¡¯s gonna soak through the blindfold if she keeps this up.¡± The new-world accented voice says, standing somewhere in front of me.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me jabbing her leg when she moved.¡± The glum-voiced ¡°big guy¡± answers.

    ¡°She was making noise! I kept her quiet!¡± The young voice pipes up.

    ¡°She made more noise when you poked her¡­¡± The glum voice sighs.

    ¡°Enough. She doesn¡¯t know where she is or what¡¯s going on.¡± The gravel-voice says, as I hear someone approaching me.

    The gag in my mouth is yanked down, and something else is stuffed in my mouth. It¡¯s¡­

    Sweet, and¡­ doughy¡­ is this bread?

    ¡°Eat.¡± The gravel-gargler¡¯s voice commands.

    I follow his command to the letter, chewing and swallowing what¡¯s in my mouth. This is¡­ the first thing I¡¯ve really eaten since I got here. I¡¯ve been so swept up by everything else I didn¡¯t notice my own hunger.

    ¡°Really? The prisoner gets the sweet rolls and we get stuck with hardtack?¡± That young voice whines.

    ¡°Hardtack makes for a poor last meal.¡± The gravel-voice answers.

    ¡°L-Last¡­¡± Is the only word I manage to choke out as my throat tightens and my heart falls into my stomach.

    Gravel-voice then starts to laugh, a laugh that sounds like pebbles being rolled around in a metal tray, and some of the other group members sigh.

    ¡°Falian¡¯s balls¡­ Rann, are you trying to treat or torture her?¡± The new-world voice questions.

    So, Rann is the name of the guy with the voice that sounds as rough as an earthquake in a quarry.

    ¡°We won¡¯t be doing anything to her. Whatever she was doing out there, I feel the Chief will be interested in seeing them.¡± Rann answers.

    The Chief? The Chief of what? A village? The Chief of Hell? Does this mean I can expect to make it there alive, at least?

    ¡°When has the Chief ever taken an interest in seein¡¯ anythin¡¯?¡± That accented voice quips. Rann doesn¡¯t respond, and the group gets back to their jobs and leaves me be.

    While they didn¡¯t think to shove the gag back in my mouth, I¡¯m strongly disinclined to talk. For now, at least, nothing bad will happen to me. Besides the fact that I¡¯ve been taken prisoner, of course.

    But as the terror of the danger I¡¯m in subsides, more and more questions pop into my head. If they have hardtack and sweet rolls, that means they must have flour, right? Do they have a mill? Is the mill powered by wind or by more blood waterfalls? The guy with the accent said ¡°Falian¡± - the name of the God of Metal, so clearly he knows about the Twelve Gods, so¡­ is he a human stuck here in hell, like me? Are we all just humans trapped forever in hell?

    There¡¯s plenty of stories about hell or¡­ the hells, as some people say there¡¯s more than one. Some say there¡¯s multiple hells, one for each of the six fallen Gods who were betrayed by their people who took to worshipping a dark, otherworldly power. Some say hell is ruled by an evil lord, who tried to invade our world thousands of years ago, and half the gods gave their lives in defence of our world. They all tell different stories, but they also all clearly establish that hell, or the hells, is a ¡°place¡± that is nothing like our own; fire, brimstone, death and pain, a world of suffering and anguish eternal.

    They all tell the same story of how someone¡¯s soul goes to hell. If their body is left unburied or unburned for three days, or if their body is mutilated or desecrated after death. That¡¯s the one thing that all storytellers and all religions agree on; if a body is not treated with care and respect after death, that body¡¯s soul will be forever damned to hell. Of course, some claim that their pious service to their gods means they¡¯re guaranteed to go on to The Lands Above, the heavenly realm of the gods, but this is obviously not the heavenly paradise of the Lands Above.

    But is it really hell, though? None of the stories said anything about hell having baked goods and maple syrup.

    Does hell have sweet rolls- gyah?!

    ¡°We¡¯ll find out who you really are, girl.¡±

    I jump as the one who keeps calling me ¡°girl¡± talks suddenly, sounding like he¡¯s right in my ear again. Does he have to be so close when he talks?

    ¡°Leave her be, Einar. They¡¯ll be locked in the Cellars until the Chief decides what to do with them.¡± Rann says. ¡°Einar¡± seems to follow his order and leaves me alone.

    So, one is named Rann and another Einar, and they¡¯re going to lock me in a cellar. Hooray.

    ¡°We eat, and then everyone¡¯s in their tents. We move at dawn.¡± Rann orders, and the others grumble in agreement.

    Dawn, hmm. I guess this place has a day-night cycle after all. Not that I could really tell, looking up at the dark, fog-smothered sky.

    ¡°You.¡± Rann says. Is he talking to¡ª

    ¡°Eat.¡±

    Another sweetened piece of bread is stuffed into my mouth before I can get a word out. I eat it as best as I can, given my hands are still tied behind my back.

    I¡¯m then picked up over someone¡¯s shoulder again, and carried a short distance to a tent. Rather than being dropped, I¡¯m gently laid down on a thin blanket, my blindfold partially lifted, and I blink the dry tears out of my eyes as my vision adjusts to see a face in front of mine.

    The face I¡¯m looking at is what you¡¯d describe as ¡°grizzled¡±. Grey hair, deep lines along his face and a short grey beard, but with pointed ears, white pupils, and bright red irises. He¡¯s¡­ really close. Uncomfortably close. Is something going to happen after all-

    ¡°Get some sleep.¡± Rann says bluntly, as he leaves the tent.

    Well. I guess nothing else will happen to me tonight, thankfully.

    Having no blindfold and gag on is nice, but I¡¯m still tied up, and I don¡¯t have anything to get me out of these ropes.

    ¡­ Or do I?

    Hey, wings. Wings.

    Something soft rubs the back of my neck¡ªyes, hi wings, I¡¯m talking to you, good to know you can read my thoughts. You¡¯ve got some pretty sharp-looking feathers. Is there anything you can do about this rope? Could you loosen it? Cut it?

    My wings shuffle about under my cloak; a bizarre sensation, feeling the cloak rub and shift against my skin without me feeling like I¡¯m moving it, and as I look down over my shoulder, a sharp, almost sword-like feather appears from beneath the cloak, poking at the rope wrapped tight around my wrists.

    Poking it won¡¯t do anything. Why are you poking it? Saw through it! Back and forth!

    No, not back and forth with the tip. Get the edge of the sword-feather-thing against it and saw back and forth against it.

    Evidently, my wings get flustered over all these requests, just resorting to poking the rope from all different angles as it rubs up against my neck restlessly¡ªokay, okay, just calm down, we can cut the rope later. Don¡¯t panic.

    Although¡­

    If I cut through my ropes, break free, run, and somehow get away from them¡­

    Where do I go?

    I don¡¯t know where anything is. I don¡¯t know a good place to find food or shelter. I don¡¯t know anything about the dangers of this place or this world; I¡¯d probably just get captured by someone again, probably a harsher group than this one.

    This group, while they did tie me up and give me a mild concussion, they gave me food and they¡¯re taking me to some sort of shelter. Yes, I¡¯m their prisoner, but this isn¡¯t the worst treatment I could be receiving as a prisoner. Maybe I should play along for now, and see where they take me. They haven¡¯t done anything else to me, yet, and if they try to¡­ I have a backup plan if any of them get grabby.

    I guess, for now, I¡¯ll lay my head down and try to get some sleep.

    If I¡¯m lucky, this is all just a bad dream, and I¡¯ll wake up back in my old bed, with the same family, and none of this actually happened.

    If this isn¡¯t a bad dream, then¡­ At least I¡¯m finishing my first day in hell alive. I¡¯ve been captured and tied up, sure, but I¡¯m alive.

    That¡¯ll do for now.

 Chapter Three

    Ughhh¡­

    ¡°Gyaahh why am I upside-dow-OWWW!¡±

    A quick sharp jab to my thigh shuts me up fast.

    ¡°Keep it down. We¡¯re nearly there.¡± A different voice says. I go to look up, but there¡¯s those same eyes whose glare could bake a potato, trying to burn a hole in my forehead.

    ¡°Hi, Einar. Glad to see you¡¯re still with us.¡±

    Einar scowls, going to draw a dagger attached to his belt.

    ¡°How do you know¡­¡± An elbow to the gut from another member of the group cuts Einar off¡­ a member that looks like a girl? With a soft face, gentle brown eyes, and perfectly wavy orange-red hair¡­ wow.

    ¡°Quit staring, captive.¡± A young-looking guy butts in front of the girl (?) I was staring at, with a voice to match that young-sounding one from earlier, and eyes matching those of the orange-haired girl.

    ¡°Arshak. Keep in line.¡± Rann calls from the front, and ¡®Arshak¡¯ begrudgingly trudges past me to return to his position. The orange-haired girl walks up with him, flicking me on the nose on the way past.

    Guess I deserve that for staring.

    Well. I¡¯m awake, and I¡¯m still in hell, so this probably isn¡¯t a dream. I¡¯m not blindfolded or gagged at least, but I¡¯m still tied up and being carried on some guy¡¯s shoulder. I don¡¯t know how long I was asleep, but it seems a bit brighter than it did yesterday, so I assume this is what counts as daytime here.

    I¡¯m pretty sure¡­ the sun was going down when I died. It was night time when I arrived here, in what is presumably hell. Are the day-night cycles synced up? Maybe. There¡¯s no other way for me to tell. As for wherever we¡¯re going, it must be far away from wherever I ended up if we¡¯re still moving. As for the group that¡¯s more or less abducted me¡­ they don¡¯t seem like the average pack of brigands. Most such groups wouldn¡¯t have a young looking girl like the one with wavy orange hair as part of their group.

    I settle back down as best as I can while being tied up and carried over someone¡¯s shoulder, watching the ground go by as they keep on the move for what must have been hours by now¡­ until the group comes to a stop.

    Everything goes still. No murmurs, no movement, not even the wind blowing through the trees. The shoulder I¡¯m slung over is tense again. It¡¯s so quiet, I can hear the man carrying me breathe slowly and cautiously. I¡¯m also doing my best to stay still. If anything happens and I get dropped, I¡¯m probably dead, so, I¡¯ll be a good captive for now and follow along¡­

    Silence hangs in the air. Tension slowly rises. Every second feels like it¡¯s an hour long. Are we about to be ambushed by something? A predatory beast? Another group? Am I dead weight waiting to be dropped?

    ¡°There!¡± Arshak shouts.

    An arrow flies through the air, hitting a tree a few dozen metres away with a thunk. The underbrush rustles, something squeals and scurries away, squeaking as it runs off.

    The tension lasts another moment, before it drops, and the shoulder beneath me relaxes.

    ¡°Just a Jackhorn. It would have run towards us if something bigger was chasing it.¡± Rann says, as the rest of the group breathes sighs of relief.

    ¡°You missed, boy.¡± Einar states, disappointment in his voice.

    ¡°Like you could have done better¡­ and it¡¯s Arshak, not ¡®boy¡¯.¡± Arshak growls, walking away from the group to presumably recover his arrow.

    ¡°Next time, hotshot, if ya gotta yell, do it after ya shoot. Tch¡­ we ain¡¯t had meat for weeks. Coulda made one hell of a stew outta that jackhorn¡­¡± That accented voice sighs.

    Again, what the hell is that accent?! Is that what people from the Imperial Colonies sound like?

    ¡°The sooner we get back the sooner we can organise a proper hunt. Get a move on.¡± Rann says, as the group starts to move again.

    ¡°Why are we bringing back another mouth to feed? Why another drain on our supplies-¡± Arshak groans, before being cut off as the group suddenly comes to a halt again.

    ¡°When you¡¯re in charge of the expedition team, Arshak, you get to make the decisions. Until then¡­¡± Rann trails off.

    ¡°Y-you make the shots. Yes sir.¡± Arshak finishes, his voice shaking a little.

    ¡°Hah¡­ got his tail between his legs now, don¡¯t ya think, big guy?¡± The accented voice quips.

    ¡°I just want to get home¡­ This girl¡¯s starting to get heavy with how long I¡¯ve been carrying her¡­¡± The ¡®big guy¡¯ carrying me sighs.

    Heavy?! I- wait, no, calm down Marina, let¡¯s not agitate these people¡­ I mean, I am bigger than I used to be, and I don¡¯t know how much these wings actually weigh on top of that. Man. I¡¯ve never been called ¡°heavy¡±. I didn¡¯t get why people took issue with it until someone called me heavy.

    The group falls back into line and resumes their course towards wherever their home or base is. It¡¯s nice not being blindfolded, but it¡¯s hard to keep track of where we¡¯re going when there¡¯s just¡­ dirt, and mud, and trees everywhere, and that I¡¯m kinda upside-down. We don¡¯t seem to be following a clear-cut path, either, as we weave and wind our way through the rough terrain for¡­ an hour? Maybe two? Just quietly trudging along.

    Given we¡¯ve travelled so far, I¡¯m kind of thankful that I¡¯ve been carried most of the way. We¡¯ve been walking for a good part of the night, and now, at least several hours of the day. These people sure came a long way from wherever they¡¯re from, especially if they were just harvesting the maple syrup or ¡°sweet tree sap¡± as they called it. I guess none of the trees near where they live produces a similar kind of sap, if they came this far. Maybe it¡¯s their only source of natural sugar.

    Sugar, huh. My family was well-off enough that we¡¯d always have a jar of sugar in the house, alongside a number of herbs and even a few spices. My mother¡¯s cinnamon biscuits were nearly as famous as the violins our family were renowned for. Not as widespread, sure, but we got a special discount with the spice trader if he got some cinnamon biscuits back as payment. I¡¯d sit and watch those biscuits bake in the oven, from the moment my mother put them in, til the moment they¡¯d cooled down enough to eat.

    If this really isn¡¯t a dream, I¡¯ll never taste anything like that ever again.

    ¡­

    I¡¯m running out of things I can think to think about. There isn¡¯t much else to do when I¡¯m being carried through a seemingly endless sea of reddy-brown mud and dark brown trees. The only notable landmark we¡¯ve passed, from what little I can see from my upside-down vantage point, is a small stream lined by coal-black rocks either side of it. Pretty normal, if the ¡°water¡± wasn¡¯t blood-red and didn¡¯t stink of rust. While not as deathly silent as before, after the escapade with whatever the ¡°jackhorn¡± was, my captors have been pretty quiet ever since we crossed that stream.

    ¡°Gh¡­ how much longer do we have to march, Rann? We¡¯ve been moving for hours and all this sweet-tree sap is heavy enough on its own, yet you have to bring the captive back with us¡­¡± Arshak whines. Guess I spoke too soon.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Are you volunteering to carry the captive, Arshak?¡± Rann asks.

    ¡°... N-no, carrying the sap is fine¡­¡± Arshak says, reluctantly.

    ¡°I¡¯d like a break from carrying ¡®er¡­¡± The big guy carrying me mumbles.

    ¡°Given how far I am off the ground and how muscly this shoulder is, I can¡¯t be that heavy to you, dick.¡± Is what I¡¯d like to say, but I¡¯m doing my best to behave right now. I¡¯d be happy to walk myself if it meant I wouldn¡¯t feel sick from being upside-down this whole time.

    ¡°To think, you complained so much about comin¡¯ along for a ¡°borin¡¯ sweet-tree run¡± and how you ¡°wished somethin¡¯ excitin¡¯ would happen¡±, then when somethin¡¯ does happen, you spend the whole trip back complainin¡¯ about it. Everythin¡¯ could go your way and you¡¯d still be complainin¡¯ about it. Just no pleasin¡¯ you, is there kid?¡± The accented voice gives Arshak¡¯s a thorough dressing-down, as a few other people in the group murmur in agreement.

    ¡°Tch¡­ there was no ¡°excitement¡±, that dumb girl just ran straight into Einar¡¯s club¡­¡± Arshak huffs.

    A club, you say. I didn¡¯t run straight into it, but it sure knocked my lights out and is still¡­ ringing in my ears. Having my head hanging down like this probably isn¡¯t good post-concussion.

    After a short while, the group comes to a stop again, spreading out. I¡¯d like to look around, but Einar¡¯s still standing behind the guy carrying me, watching me like a hawk in case I try to make a move.

    One of the group members whistles, imitating a songbird¡¯s call; like those that visited the trees around my house in the springtime. It feels really out of place in hell.

    A loud rumble shakes the trees, accompanied by the grunts of people as something heavy is pulled through the mud.

    ¡°Welcome back, Expeditionary Team. See you¡¯ve caught yourselves a stray?¡± Someone calls out from a higher-up place.

    The group starts moving again, as the familiar hustle and bustle of village life reaches my ears. From what I can see, we¡¯re now inside a walled compound, with a dozen people or so gathered around the gate. The walls are in fact palisades carved from straight, dark logs, with platforms along the inner sides for guards to patrol. Large trees loom overhead, their leaves all yellow, orange, and red. It looks like a relatively normal village, with houses, workshops, a market, guards, children playing among the fallen leaves; a small parcel of normalcy in a world of cruel absurdity.

    I¡¯d love to look around, but by now I¡¯m just¡­ trying not to be sick. Please let me down. Just let me stand up straight¡­.

    ¡°Found them near Dead Man¡¯s Dream. Brought them here to have the chief interrogate them. Rob, take her to the Cellars. The rest of you, unload what we gathered.¡± Rann orders, and the group begins to disperse, as ¡®Rob¡¯ carries me off elsewhere. So that¡¯s the name of the ¡°Big guy¡± that¡¯s been lugging me around like a corpse.

    I catch glimpses of other people; all with pointed ears and white pupils, and varying degrees of red eyes and reddish hair leering at me.

    I just¡­ have to keep quiet and not do anything.

    ¡°Hey Rob, show us the stray you caught!¡± A different voice calls.

    Rob stops in his tracks, and several people gather around me, gawking and leering.

    ¡°Oooo, this one¡¯s a looker¡­ any idea what mob she¡¯s from?¡± One of them questions.

    ¡°Definitely not the Breakers, her clothes are too nice for that.¡± Another quips. They¡¯re getting closer to me¡­

    ¡°Where did you find her again? Near Deadman¡¯s?¡± The first voice asks.

    Arshak shoves his way past the one who just spoke, with the orange-haired girl following close behind him. Arshak¡¯s wearing a hood, but I see the same orange curly hair that the girl has peeking out from under it. Huh. Could they be siblings?

    ¡°She ran right into our camp as we were gathering sweet-tree sap. She caught most of us off-guard, but Einar dealt with her quick. Now get back to work, Nate, you have a wall to watch.¡± Arshak states matter-of-factly, clearly annoyed with ¡®Nate¡¯.

    ¡°Oooo, is Arshak all ruffled up because someone got the drop on you?¡± Nate responds mockingly.

    ¡°Yeah, you shoulda seen him. Nearly jumped out of his skin when the girl ran in outta nowhere!¡± The guy with the accent joins in on the conversation, teasing Arshak. Arshak turns on the spot.

    ¡°Like you were any better, Johnny! You had your mouth full of juice, then when she turned up you nearly choked on it!¡±

    Arshak yells back at ¡®Johnny¡¯, the accent guy. Another name to another voice.

    Arshak, Johnny, and Nate seem to get distracted with their own argument, so now it¡¯s just me, Rob, and another guy who¡¯s more interested in me than watching the argument unfold. He¡¯s standing close to me, right beside Rob. His hand slowly reaches up, as he grins.

    ¡°Say, that¡¯s a nice cloak ya got there, It¡¯d be a shame to let such a well-made thing go to waste on a prisoner¡­¡±

    He grabs the hem of the cloak, trying to pull it off.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just- GYAAARRRGHH?!¡±

    I blink.

    I¡¯m several feet off the ground. The ropes binding my arms have been cut. My wings are fully outstretched at my sides - a spray of blood hangs in the air¡ªlong, sword-like metallic feathers flash in the dim light, and several slashes line the face of the man who grabbed my cloak. Did my wings suddenly figure out not only how to fly, but how to cut things?

    The moment passes, and I land face-first in the mud. Pushing myself up, I hastily tug at the ropes around my legs. Damnit, wings, can¡¯t you cut these too-

    An arrow clangs off one of the outstretched pinion feathers of my wing, falling to the ground harmlessly. My other wing slashes the ropes around my thighs, so I quickly jump up to my feet as the adrenaline overrides all other feelings. While these wings are otherwise covered in soft feathers just like a bird, it has some as hard as steel, with the reaction time to intercept an arrow. The people of this settlement quickly move to surround me, numbering¡­ five, six¡­ fourteen¡­ nineteen¡­ twenty-four. I¡¯m not quite sure why I¡¯m so certain that there¡¯s 24, but I can save that question for later.

    Opening my eyes, and it looks like there really are about two dozen of them, weapons drawn, with several archers pointing at me. My wings restlessly shift and flap, trying to warn those surrounding me to back off. I appreciate the effort, wings, and the fact that you can apparently count; but could we fly out of here now?

    My wings make that same shrugging motion again. Guess not. Are we fighting our way out instead?

    ¡°Rann, the fuck did you have us bring back to Haven?! Some new monster that pretends to be human to lure us in?¡± Johnny shouts, pointing his spear at me.

    Rann steps forward, pulling a giant, flat-tipped greatsword from over his back. Now that I can directly see him, he¡¯s a full head-and-shoulders taller than me, and he can wield that greatsword that looks over half as tall as I am like it¡¯s a butter knife.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, John, but I¡¯ll take care of it myself.¡± The grim determination in Rann¡¯s voice makes me shake on the spot.

    ¡°Kill the bitch already! She¡¯s got knives or something in her wings!¡± The man with the slashed face screams. I don¡¯t know if this situation would have been made worse or not if my wings went for his throat rather than his face.

    Fighting it is. I¡¯ve had a few sword fighting lessons, sure, but I have no weapon by my side but these wings. Whatever happens, I¡¯m not falling face-first into the mud again.

    Rann approaches me as I stare him down. The more I look at him, the less sure I am that I''ll survive this fight. He¡¯s old, large, and commands authority and respect amongst his peers. Draped across his shoulders is the red pelt of a wolf-like creature with its head resting on his shoulder; baring fangs as long as knives. His boots are large and caked with mud, chainmail covers most of his left arm, while his right is bare, showing deep scars across his elbow. A solid metal breastplate protects his chest, with a leather brigandine underneath, and several belts around his waist holding a number of pouches and daggers. He looks like a man who spent his whole life fighting, who died fighting, who woke up in hell and chose to keep on fighting.

    Who am I? Some teenager who on her first day here was knocked out and kidnapped, with nothing but her clothes and a pair of wings that don¡¯t even know how to fly stuck to her back. What are my chances of coming out of this alive?

    None. Screw fighting, I have to get away from here instead. Where? How? I can¡¯t go through them, I can¡¯t go up. I need a distraction. Something. Anything.

    ¡°Rann!¡± A loud female voice shouts.

    Everyone stops and looks up behind me, as I turn to face the source of the voice. Standing on a balcony is a hooded woman, with long raven-black hair that turns blood-red at the tips cascading down her shoulders, a large gold pendant around her neck, different-coloured eyes of gold and silver, holding a large wooden staff with a gloved hand, and an aura that exudes power and authority. Besides her stands a man of strikingly similar build and looks to Rann to the point I think I¡¯m seeing double, but he looks a few years younger than Rann as the shock wears off.

    The woman glares at me. She raises the staff in her gloved hand - and bright golden chains suddenly appear around my body, binding my arms, legs, and wings, then yanking me to the ground. I struggle, trying to kick them away, but the more I move, the tighter these golden chains constrict, eventually holding my arms and wings perfectly still as my legs are dragged down to the ground, unable to struggle any further.

    ¡°Now! Knock her out!¡± A male voice yells.

    Wait, no, please don¡¯t knock me out again, I¡¯ll behave-

    A hard blow hits the back of my head, and I¡¯m out like a light.

    Fuck.

    So much for not falling face-first in the mud again.

 Chapter Four

    I slowly drift back into consciousness. A soft ring still sounds in my ears, and a dull pain throbs in the back of my head.

    I¡¯m bound, arms and legs, to a chair. Not by rope, but by the warm golden chains that surrounded me earlier.

    I open one eye¡­ to find a face staring at mine.

    Two eyes, the right of shining gold and the left of shimmering silver, framing stark white pupils. Thin red lines drawn with purpose surround the silver eye; be they tattoos or scars, I don¡¯t know, but they look strangely familiar. Dark, thick eyelashes frame then, beneath a neatly-cut fringe of black hair. Upon seeing my eye open, their glare intensifies. I lean back in my chair with both eyes open now, but she only leans closer, intent on winning this staring contest.

    The person before me is the hooded woman from earlier, with her dark grey, woolly hood resting on her shoulders. A mole marks her otherwise unblemished face just below her right eye. Her ears are pointed, the same as all the others, but not nearly long enough to be an elf. Long, well-kept black hair that turns dark red near their tips rests on her shoulders. A gold pendant with a star-shaped but unrecognisable marking hangs around her neck, held by a black leather loop.

    Her white buttoned shirt and brown linen pants under her cloak are a lot more form-fitting and show her to be quite well-endowed, but as my eyes wander down her form¡­ they get stuck on her chest.

    She¡¯s uh, big.

    Telling where I¡¯m looking, the woman growls softly, and my gaze flicks back to meet her eyes, now scowling at me. She leans closer, as if trying to read my very soul just by staring intensely. She smells faintly¡­ sweet. Not the sweetness of the maple syrup-tasting ¡°sweet-tree sap¡±, but, sweet. Her hands are hidden within her black gloves, which have a white, very clean panel of fabric on their backs.

    ¡°What do you think, Chief?¡± A male voice asks. I look up at the source of it - it¡¯s the same man that was standing beside the ¡°Chief¡± earlier. He looks remarkably like a younger Rann, with his face showing fewer marks and scars that come with age. They¡¯re probably related in some way. Father and son, maybe? I¡¯m good enough at recognising faces to guess that with some confidence.

    The Chief sighs, standing upright. The sound of chains rattling starts, and looking to my side, I see my wings, fully splayed out and wrapped several times over in chains, struggling against their bindings, trying to lash out at the woman before me.

    ¡°What I know, Vann, is that this one isn¡¯t a part of any clan or group down here. She¡¯s new.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°New? What kind of ¡°new¡±? She¡¯s clearly an adult.¡± Vann questions, sounding surprised at the answer.

    The Chief sighs softly, then leans down right into my face.

    ¡°How old are you?¡± She¡­ demands, rather than asking. I answer honestly, as thankfully I¡¯m not gagged this time.

    ¡°Fifteen.¡±

    ¡°Fifteen?!¡± Vann spits out, ¡°How could you- where the hell are you from to look that old at Fifteen?!¡±

    ¡°Does it matter where I¡¯m from? I died. I¡¯m in hell, as far as I know. I didn¡¯t choose to look like this.¡±

    The Chief furrows her brow, taking a moment to think, before asking a little more politely.

    ¡°How long have you been here?¡±

    ¡°A day, or maybe two. I¡¯ve spent a good part of it unconscious.¡±

    The Chief looks back at Vann. Vann¡¯s eyes widen, and he turns away, pacing about the room as the Chief looks back at me.

    ¡°Did you always have those wings?¡±

    ¡°I only got them when I got here. They don¡¯t know how to fly. I don¡¯t even know how to fly. They¡¯re less wings and more a fancy cape with an attitude.¡±

    A wing tries to poke me in my side, straining against the chains. It didn¡¯t like being called that.

    Vann turns to face the Chief again, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Chief, if you¡¯re certain, does this mean¡­¡±

    ¡°I am certain, and it doesn¡¯t mean anything yet, Vann. This girl has no idea where she is, or even what she is.¡±

    The Chief pulls out a chair and sits across from me, crossing her legs. The way she carries herself has an air of nobility, but her blunt manner of speaking stands in stark contrast to it.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start from the beginning. Do you know how you got here?¡±

    ¡°I died. My village was attacked, my home burned, my family murdered. Then I woke up here. In what is, presumably, hell. I don¡¯t know what I did wrong to end up here, but here I am. Guess the people that murdered my family didn¡¯t have the courtesy to take care of our murdered bodies respectfully.¡±

    ¡°Do you know of the Underlands?¡±

    The Underlands? I¡¯d heard the name before in passing. It¡¯s always been just another name for hell; a more poetic one often only used in old stories.

    ¡°It¡¯s just another name for hell. The name is all I know.¡±

    My experience in ¡°hell¡± here has been so unlike what any of the stories and fables talked about I¡¯m not entirely sure that this is ¡°hell.¡±

    ¡°Just the name?¡± She continues.

    ¡°... Just the name.¡±

    She sighs, standing up and walking over to a bookshelf to parse its contents. Now that I have more of a chance to look around the room, it¡¯s surprisingly¡­ homey, is the word I¡¯d use. Several bookshelves line the walls, separated by shuttered windows. The floor is solid wooden planks, and wooden beams span above, holding up a thatched roof. I¡¯m seated next to a large table, with papers and books strewn across it. Candles dotted throughout the room provide light alongside the fireplace. Man, I never would have thought hell could have such respectable accommodations.

    The Chief pulls out the book she was looking for, walking back over and sitting down in front of me as she opens it, flicking through the pages as Vann leans over her shoulder. I can¡¯t get a good enough look at what the title of the book is, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s in a language I can read.

    ¡°The¡­ History of the Damned: Their Afflictions, Curses, and Gifts, Chief?¡± Vann comments the book¡¯s name, conveniently.

    ¡°Six of the seven Sumps that the Damned awaken within afflict their Damned with certain unique, consistent traits, but sometimes there are greater changes to a person¡¯s bodily age, height, build, or even gender; it¡¯s not something unheard of. There¡¯s no direct record or mention of wings in particular, but there are accounts of Damned having unspecified new body parts that aren¡¯t consistent with what their Sump afflicts them with. However.¡±

    The Chief slams the book shut, returning her glare to me as she stands, walks up to me, and lightly traces her finger along the uppermost feathers on my wing. I almost don¡¯t feel her touch, as jarring as it is to ¡°feel¡± through a limb I¡¯m unaccustomed to having, as the word ¡°Damned¡± rings in my head. Damned? As in¡­ damned to hell?

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    The wing thrashes against its bonds, its sharper metallic feathers grating against the golden chains, as if trying to cut through them¡­ I don¡¯t think that¡¯ll work, wings. Magic metal is harder to cut through than rope.

    She kneels down, taking a closer look at my wing.

    ¡°This is unlike anything I¡¯ve heard or read before¡­ Great wings, with feathers like blades¡­ How do you control these?¡± She looks up at me as she asks,a slight twinkle in her eye that quickly fades as she focuses back on me.

    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t. They have a mind of their own.¡±

    The Chief looks taken aback, unsatisfied with my answer.

    ¡°You can¡¯t control them? They¡¯re physically attached to your body and you can¡¯t control them?¡±

    ¡°They tend to listen to what I tell them to do in my head, but they also seem to do things on their own¡­¡±

    The Chief¡¯s eyes narrow, leaning into my face.

    ¡°Did you happen to tell them to slash the face of one of my men?¡±

    ¡°N-No! That was of their own accord when he grabbed my cloak! I swear I didn¡¯t tell them to cut him!¡±

    ¡°Did you tell them not to cut that man¡¯s face?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t think it¡¯d do that! It moved so quickly, and¡­¡±

    The Chief stands back up, crossing her arms.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re a complete stranger with no allegiance who says she¡¯s only fifteen.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes, as hard as that may be to believe¡­¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯re not lying about that. Nor are you lying about having only been here a day.¡±

    ¡°Yes, so-¡±

    ¡°But. You interrupted the expeditionary team as they were on an important mission. For reasons I¡¯m still not yet sure of, Rann decided to bring you back, meaning they brought back less goods with them.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ well¡­ it wasn¡¯t my fault-¡±

    ¡°Most perplexingly, you have wings. You say you don¡¯t know how to fly, which is somewhat understandable. However, your wings hide swords within them that have already injured one of my villagers, and you say you can¡¯t control them; evidently so if you failed to stop them from cutting a man¡¯s face up.¡±

    ¡°Th-that¡­ um¡­¡±

    ¡°Finally, you are also in possession of an enchanted cloak that conveniently hides your wings within them, meaning you kept them concealed from the expeditionary team right up until you made it inside my village¡¯s walls. You do understand how this makes you look, yes?¡±

    ¡°... Well, when you put it like that¡­ I don¡¯t have any good answers or reasons to give, aha¡­¡±

    The Chief sits back, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow slightly.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing a poor job of negotiating your way out of those chains, let alone the Cellars.¡±

    ¡°Wait, I was brought here to negotiate?!¡±

    The Chief sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

    ¡°You really do know nothing¡­¡±

    Vann steps forth, a look of equal parts hope and concern on his face.

    ¡°What do you think, Chief? Does this mean the curse has been lifted?¡± He asks.

    The Chief raises a hand to stop Vann.

    ¡°One outlier doesn¡¯t prove anything. She hasn¡¯t lied about anything she¡¯s said, but I can¡¯t yet confirm anything else.¡±

    ¡°Confirm¡­ what?¡±

    I ask, nervously interjecting in this conversation.

    The Chief sighs, sitting back down and raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re in hell?¡± She asks.

    ¡°W-well¡­ yes, because I clearly remember dying, and, this place hasn¡¯t exactly been a paradise, but¡­ it hasn¡¯t been anything like the stories I was told.¡±

    She sighs, rubbing her temple on her forehead.

    ¡°Where to begin¡­¡±

    She sits up straight, staring me straight in the eyes.

    ¡°You are correct, you¡¯ve died and gone to hell. The Underlands, is the name we use, making the world we came from the Overlands. You are, as the priests of the last world would say, ¡°Damned¡± to hell, just like the rest of us. You died, your body wasn¡¯t properly treated, so your soul ended up down here. Damned wake up all over this world, in places called Sumps, Graveyards, et cetera. You¡¯re in one such sump; the Red Abyss. It¡¯s called that because, as you may have noticed, it¡¯s a giant red hole in the ground and no one has escaped it in hundreds of years. Just like the rest of us, you have awoken with pointed ears, red-tipped hair, and red eyes-¡±

    ¡°My eyes are red too?!¡±

    A glare from her shuts me up fast.

    ¡°Yes. You haven¡¯t seen them yourself, but your eyes are red too. Not everyone gets red eyes or red hair, but everyone gets the pointed ears and white pupils. That¡¯s just what everyone in the Abyss looks like. Damned from other Sumps look different and possess different afflicted traits, but I haven¡¯t seen any to confirm.¡±

    ¡°How do you-¡±

    Another glare. I really should just let her finish, but I have so many questions.

    ¡°You¡¯re in Haven. Specifically, Haven¡¯s interrogation room. This place was established about a century ago when some idiot with a heart too big lowered himself down here with a pile of books and materials to ¡®make things better for us¡¯. It hasn¡¯t given us a way out of here, but we at least have information on the outside world, and better equipment than most other groups down here. And yes, you¡¯re lucky you got picked up by us. The other groups that roam this accursed hole are a lot less welcoming.¡±

    ¡°... Less welcoming than kidnapping and knocking me out several times?¡±

    The Chief sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

    ¡°Even when those idiots don''t do their jobs properly, yes.¡±

    ¡°The most important thing, Chief.¡± Vann says, walking up beside her and looking down at me. The Chief nods at him to continue.

    ¡°You say you¡¯re fifteen. The Chief says you¡¯re not lying, so I¡¯ll take her word for it. Thing is, for the past twenty years, the only people who¡¯ve been ending up down here in the Abyss are children.¡±

    Children.

    ¡­ Only children have been found down here, for the past twenty years.

    Anyone fifteen and under is considered a child back home, so I¡¯m technically at the uppermost limits of childhood. But I, for some reason, woke up with an older, more mature body, which doesn¡¯t seem to be the norm here.

    I blocked it out at the time, but now it¡¯s all I can think of.

    That pile of skulls and bones I woke up on.

    A lot of those skulls were small.

    ¡°Some are in their early teens, but most are ten years and under. Many¡­ don¡¯t make it far.¡± Vann¡¯s voice wavers slightly as he finishes speaking.

    ¡°I was about eleven when I ended up here, and that was eleven years ago. I was taken in by the previous Chief, and raised as his successor.¡± The Chief says.

    She waves her gloved hand, and the golden chains binding my body disintegrate and fade away, letting me slump back in my chair, my wings slumping to the floor.

    For twenty years, it¡¯s been children, many younger than ten, ending up down here.

    The same age as my little brother.

    So¡­

    If I¡¯m here, then¡­

    ¡°My little brother!!¡±

    I nearly jump out of my chair, but Vann puts a firm hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks as he looks me in the eye.

    ¡°You won¡¯t find him, lass. People can die side-by-side and wake up here not only hundreds of miles, but hundreds of years apart. People normally end up here on their own, and you¡¯re the first one we¡¯ve found in two years. He may have lived and died a century before you made it here, or he may have never been dragged down to this hellhole at all. Trust me. You won¡¯t find anything but a swift second death out there.¡±

    My family. My little brother, my elder sisters, my parents. Have they all ended up down here, like I have? Have they already lived and died here? Have they not even made it here at all yet? I¡­

    I fall back in the chair, holding my face in my hands. Fuck. Everything is hitting me. My leg¡¯s twitching. My wing¡­ rubs against my side, like it¡¯s trying to console me.

    Vann looks at the Chief, and then turns to walk towards the door. The Chief stays seated across from me, giving me a moment before speaking.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    My name¡­? I rub my eyes, wiping away the tears as best I can.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you release the chains¡­ I thought I was a prisoner¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s evidently clear that you pose no threat to me the way you are now. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    Now that it¡¯s just her and I in the room, her voice has softened, losing that harshness that one might need to run a settlement in a hole in the ground like this. I look up at her. Even her natural glare under her dark, sharp eyelashes has softened.

    ¡°Marina.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been brought to Haven, Marina. This settlement¡¯s location is kept secret, so we can¡¯t exactly let you leave. For now, I¡¯ll find a spare room with a bed for you. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll find a way to put you to use, given you¡¯ll be staying here.¡±

    I don¡¯t remember what room I ended up in, but I do remember passing out the moment I fell into a bed.

 Chapter Five

    After everything that¡¯s happened, it feels strange waking up in a relatively normal room in a relatively normal house.

    Sure, the light coming through the windows is more red than it should be, but that¡¯s not terribly difficult to get used to. I have my own room, a hay bed, and clothes.

    You would think that having wings would make sleeping on your back uncomfortable, but it¡¯s not that big of a deal if you can¡¯t feel them there. They¡¯re flexible and soft enough that I can lay flat on my back with my wings out and not feel like I¡¯m in a weird position. I can feel them when they touch other parts of my body, but I can¡¯t¡­ physically feel them attached to my back. If I reach behind myself and touch the base of them, I can feel that I¡¯ve touched it with my hand, but I can¡¯t feel it through my wing, as if they¡¯re numb.

    I sit up, and my wings curl themselves around my sides and rest in my lap - I guess they knew I wanted to take a closer look at them, given they seem to be able to hear my thoughts. They give a small flap of acknowledgement. Running my hand over their uppermost edge, they feel soft and smooth to the touch. The uppermost feathers - the coverts, is the exact term I believe - are smoother and flatter, while the longer flight feathers are rougher and less evenly spaced. Some of the flight feathers are as long as my forearm, and consistently a dark wine-red colour throughout.

    Towards their tips, however, are four notably shinier feathers hidden amongst the others. They¡¯re firm and metallic, with knife-sharp edges and pointed tips¡­ they slashed a man¡¯s face with frightening ease, after all. Each wing has four of them, making them sword-like fingers, I guess. Do they have the little thumb bit along the upper edge of the wing?

    My left wing lifts itself up in my lap, extending a small thumb-like tuft of feathers along its upper edge, basically giving me a thumbs up. Neat.

    The sword-like¡­ Sword feathers? Wing swords? Blade feathers? I¡¯ll just call them blade-feathers for now. They fit quite neatly between the other feathers, and they¡¯re flexible enough to move mostly concealed within my feathers without much issue. Four blade-feathers on each wing. Eight swords, permanently attached to me, with quick reflexes of their own. How far can they reach out from me, though? The guy that grabbed my cloak was close enough to be in arm¡¯s reach, but¡­

    My left wing lifts up and stretches itself out to its full length, reaching almost halfway across the room. With a flick, its blade-feathers extend out an extra metre in length at their very tip. That answers that.

    I hold up a strand of hay.

    ¡°Hey, wings. Cut this.¡±

    The left wing pulls itself back, retracting its four blades halfway and aiming for the hay; with a quick swish, it makes a clean slice, lopping off the top of the strand.

    ¡°You learned how to cut! Good wings!!¡±

    I rub the top of the right wing still in my lap, and the left flaps with apparent excitement, scratching the wooden floor with its still-unsheathed blades.

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t go scratching up the floor when we just got here, we¡¯re living here now. Also don¡¯t cut people unless I tell you, okay? I don¡¯t know if we¡¯re in the clear yet.¡±

    My wings slump a little, and the tips flick upwards, as if giving a begrudging nod of acceptance. Gods, I can¡¯t tell if these things act more like puppies or children with the hand-holding they need¡­ But oh, they feel so good to rub! So soft and fluffy, wrapping me in a hug, haaahh~

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    I jerk upright, and my wings fully unfurl themselves straight out in shock, the right one banging against the wall. The Chief is standing in my doorway, arms crossed, looking very unimpressed with my actions.

    ¡°C-Chief! I¡¯m awake! Good morning! Uh, morning is a thing here, r-right?¡±

    She sighs, mumbling something to herself before speaking up.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to stay here, and pay for slashing Aran¡¯s face, you¡¯re going to be put to work. Fifteen is when children go before the council to be designated their new role, and you¡¯re no different. I¡¯ll bring you there myself.¡±

    ¡°Do you¡­ really believe that I¡¯m fifteen? Because¡­ I¡¯m not even sure of that myself, by this point¡­¡±

    She steps forward, and leans down right into my face. Close. Really close. Too close¡ª

    She points at her silver eye, with thin red markings around it.

    ¡°See this? It means I¡¯m a soulseer. You know what that means, yes?¡±

    ¡°That you¡­ can look into people¡¯s eyes and read their souls, which means you can tell when they¡¯re lying, or what their intentions may be¡­ that still works down here?¡±

    She stands back up, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Surprisingly, yes, my soulseer abilities remained intact when I awoke in this world. You¡¯re not lying about being fifteen, even if your body certainly doesn¡¯t look like it. Your body ageing up isn¡¯t as bizarre as it may seem, though; checking through my books, it¡¯s not unheard of for Damned to awaken with changes to their body¡¯s age or build. The wings are¡­ more unusual, but we¡¯ll just have to deal with that. Now get up, put your wings in your enchanted cloak, and follow me.¡±

    The Chief turns to leave the room, and I hurriedly get to my feet and follow behind her, my wings tucking themselves back under my cloak.

    We leave the side room that I woke up in, rounding the corner and stepping onto what looks to be the main street of Haven. Both sides are lined with buildings with tell-tale business and purpose. A butcher, a baker, a blacksmith down a side alley, the armoury behind me, a carpenter, two tailors, and even a market square. At the end of the main street lies a crossroads, dominated by a large multi-story tavern, with a balcony above its front door. All ordinary looking houses and businesses, built from wooden beams with shingle roofs. Almost unbelievably ordinary.

    ¡°Have you never seen a main street before? Surely you must have lived somewhere civilised, given your clothing and manner of speech.¡±

    The Chief¡¯s slightly annoyed words snap me back to reality, realising I¡¯ve stopped in my tracks and have been gawking at the surroundings.

    ¡°I have, just¡­ I never thought I¡¯d see something like this down here, I thought I was seeing things when I first saw this place¡­ How did you even build all this?¡±

    The Chief turns and starts walking, so I catch up to her while listening.

    ¡°We¡¯ve had a number of skilled craftsmen, carpenters, blacksmiths and builders live here over the years. Haven was established some hundred-odd years ago by that idiot who lowered himself down into the Abyss with books and tools and his bleeding heart and whatever. Despite the overall hostility of the Abyss, wood and clay are abundant for construction purposes, and the soil is very fertile. Yes, none of the roots or grains that grow down here have a particularly pleasant taste, and hunting any of the animals that prowl the thicker woods is extremely dangerous, but it¡¯s enough to get people through the day. If anything, the weather is miserable, but it¡¯s consistently miserable. Now¡­¡±

    She stops, and I realise we¡¯re in front of the doors of the tavern. The Last Drop, it¡¯s called. The streets have been fairly quiet, but the tavern sounds quite rowdy. The Chief turns to me, glaring at me straight in the eyes.

    ¡°Now. When we enter here, you¡¯ll look at nothing, you¡¯ll say nothing, you¡¯ll do nothing. Follow right behind me, around to the right and up the stairs. And keep your wings away too. Clear?¡±

    ¡°Clear.¡±

    She turns around, taking a breath before opening the heavy wooden door. A rush of noise and a sweet smell hits my face. The Chief steps into the room, so I step in behind her. I¡¯m a little taller than her, enough to just see over her head¡­

    ¡­ and the room falls silent.

    The Chief goes to take another step, but even she falters slightly before the pressure directed at us¡­ at me.

    White pupils pierce through the dark interior as my eyes adjust to the dimness. Most of these white dots are surrounded by bright or deep red, but some not. All watching. Staring. Waiting for something, anything, to move.

    ¡°That¡¯s the bitch! That¡¯s the bitch who cut my face!!¡± One of them gets up and shouts. His right eye is covered with a bandage.

    ¡°What the hells is she doing here? Throw her in the Cellars!¡± Another gets up. His eyes are a bright green.

    ¡°Cellars? She should be hanging from the stonetrees!¡± Another calls.

    More and more of them get up, shouting obscenities in my direction. Some grab their knives from the table, as the crowd starts to move towards us. I want to run, but my body won¡¯t move. The Chief looks like she¡¯s trembling with¡­ something?

    ¡°SILENCE!¡± The Chief demands, and the room immediately falls silent in compliance.

    The silence hangs for a fleeting moment, before the Chief continues talking. Even standing behind her, I can feel the look of seething contempt on her face.

    ¡°Her fate is for the council to decide. I am well aware of what she did, and that will be taken into account. The lot of you should know well that we can¡¯t just turn away someone of working age right now.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t turn her away?! She shouldn¡¯t be allowed to live here even in the Cellars for what she did to my face!¡± The man with the slashed face yells, seemingly the only one with the courage ¡ªor stupidity¡ª to shout at the Chief in a place like this.

    ¡°Your face will be fine, Aran. She scratched you, nothing more. If you insist on complaining and wasting my time, however, then I¡¯ll give you a real scar worth complaining about.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ But she¡­¡± Aran sputters, but the Chief continues.

    ¡°But yes, let¡¯s send her away, banish her from this place. She¡¯ll either fly out of here or join the Bone Breakers, where she¡¯ll tell them where we are, and return at the head of a fell host and raze us to the ground for the injustices we did to her. Surely, there is no one more eligible and sound of mind for the position of Chief than you, Aran.¡±

    ¡°I-I didn¡¯t¡­¡± Aran whimpers like a beaten dog.

    ¡°Yes, Aran, you didn¡¯t think before opening your stupid mouth and drooling all over my floorboards. Now, keep it shut, or I¡¯ll shut it for you, permanently.¡±

    Aran falls back into his chair, utterly defeated. The rest of the crowd quietly sat back down, not wanting to draw the ire of their Chief.

    ¡°You. With me. Now.¡±

    The Chief grabs my wrist, dragging me around the silenced crowd of onlookers and up the stairs, past another heavy door, through a dark corridor, and into a room dominated by a large table carved from a tree trunk. I¡¯m sat down on the only chair opposite this table, and the Chief disappears into a side room, closing the door behind her.

    ¡®The council¡¯, huh. So the Chief isn¡¯t entirely running things on her own. You wouldn¡¯t be remiss to think that she was running everything, what with her resting ¡°done-with-your-shit¡±-face and how she storms around.

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    The words ¡°can¡¯t turn away¡± linger in my head. If I¡¯m not only the first new person around here in eight moons, which are months, but only the upper crust of society tends to call them ¡°months¡±, but I¡¯m the first adult in twenty years¡­ they must be desperate for people who can actually work and help around. There seems to be other groups down here too, so I¡¯d likely be abducted no matter who found me for the sake of getting to me first¡­

    The side door opens, and I snap back to attention, sitting stiffly upright. Five people walk in. Rann, Vann, the Chief carrying her wooden staff, a tall, thin man with a long face and dark blue deep-set eyes partially hidden behind small round spectacles, and a woman slightly taller than the Chief, with a smile on her face and bright, apple-red wavy hair. They sit down at the table across from me in the order they entered, all of them carrying a book that they each open before them, with the Chief setting down her staff beside her chair. Is this an interview or a death panel? Of course hell would have stressful situations like these to layer on the punishments.

    ¡°Name?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°Marina.¡±

    ¡°Surname?¡± The long-faced man asks. His voice is sharp and critical, compared to the blunt and judgemental tone of the Chief.

    ¡°Retali¡­¡±

    ¡°Marina Retali? Hmm¡­¡± The wavy-haired woman says, leaning back in her chair to ponder. Her voice is sing-songy and soft.

    ¡°Surnames don¡¯t matter much down here.¡± Rann grunts. The long-faced man doesn¡¯t seem to register Rann¡¯s complaint.

    ¡°It matters for bookkeeping¡¯s sake, Rann.¡± The Chief opines, writing down in the book before her.

    ¡°Ah, the Retali family! Near Monte Sequoia, right? In the Sovrana Republic? The wavy-haired woman exclaims, looking excited to have guessed my origin.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m a daughter of the Retali family from Monte Sequoia, of the Sovrana Republic¡­¡±

    The smile on the woman¡¯s face fades, as she slumps back a little.

    ¡°What year was it when you passed on¡­? In, uh, Imperial Calendar years¡­¡±

    ¡°GC 1541.¡±

    The group exchange looks amongst themselves.

    ¡°Well, the last one we found said it was GC 1538, and that was two years ago, so your arrival seems to be mostly contiguous¡­¡± Vann says, as he¡¯s writing down in his ledger.

    ¡°What happened, Marina¡­? Was it just you, or your whole family, or¡­¡± The wavy-haired woman asks, her face now sullen.

    ¡°Tiff, we don¡¯t ask these things¡­¡± The Chief sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

    ¡°As far as I know, my whole village was sacked. My parents, my father¡¯s siblings, they all lived there. They came not to plunder, but simply to raze and murder. The majority of the Revali family is probably dead.¡±

    They¡­ probably are, yeah.

    Everyone I knew.

    My parents, my siblings, my uncles, aunts, cousins, the baker, the old storyteller¡­

    Dead.

    Dead for nothing. We made violins, for gods¡¯ sake. We were comfortable, but we were far from nobles. They didn¡¯t even steal anything, anyway. They just burned. Murdered. Raped. Killed for the pointless sake of killing. Why? What had we done?

    It didn¡¯t matter what we had or hadn¡¯t done. None of that mattered to them.

    They just wanted to kill.

    And because of them, here I am.

    If I got sent here, maybe I could catch up to one of them when they end up here. If the gods are as just as people say, then surely, the people who murdered me would end up in the same place as me. Maybe not exactly here, but¡­ somewhere. Can¡¯t be that big.

    ¡°Marina!¡±

    The Chief¡¯s slightly raised voice brings me back to reality. She sighs, turning to glare at Tiff.

    ¡°This is why we don¡¯t ask these things, Tiff. All it does is just stir whatever horrid memories people have of their dying moments. It¡¯s hard enough down here. We don¡¯t need to go around asking people how they¡ªoften brutally¡ªdied.¡±

    Tiff sinks down in her chair a little, falling quiet. The long-faced man beside her adjusts his spectacles, turning a page in his book.

    ¡°Moving on, Marina, I have heard you have stated your age to be fifteen. Is that correct?¡± He asks, but it feels like a knife he¡¯s put to my throat, ready to strike at any lie that I may dare speak.

    ¡°That is¡­ correct, yes¡­¡±

    He furrows his brow. He looks like he¡¯s about to tell me I¡¯ve failed my exam¡­

    ¡°While you are certainly mature for one who claims to be fifteen, I believe that is not the most extraordinary thing about you, is that true?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re talking about the wings¡­ I take it those aren¡¯t common around here.¡±

    He scoffs, crossing his arms.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t common? You¡¯ve found yourself in a burning hole in the ground, Marina, and yet the gods have gifted you wings with feathers like blades and the strength to lift off the ground. I don¡¯t know if such a situation is tragic, or comedic. You seem to be able to hide them under that mantle of yours, Marina, but surely you could show them to us? Without harming us, of course, although I¡¯m sure either of the Carterens here could strike you down before you made any such move¡­¡±

    ¡°If she went for your tongue, Anton, maybe I wouldn¡¯t move so quickly¡­¡± Rann grumbles. Carterens¡­? Is that Rann¡¯s surname?

    Should I bring out my wings¡­? I look at the Chief for permission, who sighs, and gives me a nod. Alright, wings, out you come.

    My wings immediately fly out from under my cloak, reaching their full length in less than a second, nearly filling the room from one wingtip to the other, the blade-feathers fully extended. The five seated before me are all taken aback at differing levels.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t, uh¡­ I didn¡¯t mean for them to come out that fast¡­¡±

    Anton squints, leaning closer in his chair.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s true, that you don¡¯t have direct control over them, despite the fact that they are attached to your body?¡± He quizzes, looking at me less like a human and more like a bizarre test subject. With his pointed ears, he looks like the textbook example of a snooty, judgemental elf with a natural superiority complex.

    ¡°However they work, they seem to lose consciousness whenever she does. Knocked her out enough times to learn that.¡± Rann comments.

    I¡¯ll make a note of that myself. Actually, given the amount of times I¡¯ve faceplanted in the mud, my clothes look a lot cleaner than I¡¯d expected¡­ even my face feels mostly clean? Has someone been cleaning me up while I¡¯ve been knocked out?

    ¡°I hope that doesn¡¯t have to happen again, Rann. Otherwise Mia will have to wipe down her face again.¡± Tiff scolds in a soft but firm manner.

    Mia?

    The Chief¡¯s cheeks redden slightly¡­ is she ¡®Mia¡¯?

    ¡°I- Look, we all can be afforded some basic dignity around here, and I simply didn¡¯t want her tracking mud through my library.¡±

    The Chief crosses her arms and turns her nose up with a ¡®hmpf¡¯. Mia? That¡¯s a cute name for someone so authoritative and serious¡­

    But it can¡¯t be, right? Unless I test it¡­

    ¡°Thank you for affording me the dignity of a clean face, Mia.¡±

    The Chief jumps up from her chair, slamming her hand down on the table as she turns her soul-piercing glare to me¡­ even as her face turns red up to her ears.

    ¡°It is, The CHIEF, to you, Girl, The Chief, or Chief Lichtrufer, to you, Marina Retali!¡±

    Rann rocks back in his chair as he lets out a laugh. Vann chuckles lightly, Tiff giggles, and Anton simply rolls his eyes and looks down at his book.

    ¡°She¡¯s quick, I¡¯ll give her that.¡± Rann says as he sits back upright.

    The Chief sits back down on her chair with a huff, crossing her arms again and squinting at Tiff, who¡¯s still giggling quietly.

    ¡°Alright, we have your name, your age, we¡¯ve discussed your wings, which you can, er¡­ put away now.¡± Vann starts.

    My wings, who have been outstretched and standing to attention this whole time, finally relax and pull back under my cloak.

    ¡°Right. The point of calling you here is to decide what you¡¯ll be doing here. Everyone of age has a job. I¡¯m in charge of the defence and security of Haven. Rann leads the expeditionary team, hence he¡¯s the one who found you. Anton is our head chef of sorts, in charge of food preparation and farming. Tiffany at the end is responsible for managing the craftsmen and carers of Haven. If you¡¯re working here, you¡¯re working under one of us. The Chief handles leadership duties and teaching, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be assisting with that sort of work anytime soon.¡± Vann continues, with each member of the council nodding as their names are called.

    The Chief gives an annoyed grunt of affirmation. For now, I should stick to calling her the Chief to avoid trouble. She seems prickly, and can be very harsh with her words, but there must be something more to her if she personally took the time to clean me up a bit while I was knocked out.

    ¡°What skills did you have in your previous life, Marina?¡± Tiff asks, and the others pick up their pencils or quills. Quills I expected, but pencils are something I haven¡¯t seen before here¡­

    ¡°I was the third daughter of the Retali family, with two elder sisters and one little brother. I had just turned 15 before I¡­ ended up here. My family were luthiers; or more commonly, violin makers. Well, they made everything from lyres to cellos, but we were mostly known for our violins. I learned what kind of woods were best for certain parts of the violin, how the strings are made, how to choose the best hairs for the bow, but I¡¯d never built or assembled one myself. My father said you needed at least two decades of experience before you could make your own Retali violin. But I realise, uh¡­ violin making may not be very useful down¡­ here.¡±

    Anton is the only one writing notes. That doesn¡¯t look good. Vann speaks up.

    ¡°While yes, making violins isn¡¯t a high priority here, the associated skills of woodworking may find use in carpentry. What I¡¯m interested in, however¡­ have you any experience with weapons or combat?¡±

    ¡°In my spare time, when she wasn¡¯t teaching me how to sew, my mother taught me and my siblings how to fight with a sword. My mother was an experienced duellist, and given most of his children were girls, my father wanted his daughters to be able to protect themselves from any ¡®enthusiastic suitors¡¯.¡±

    Rann and Tiffany are writing down now. Vann continues.

    ¡°In regards to combat, those hidden blades in your wings seem to know how to defend you adequately from anyone in your vicinity. How, err¡­ experienced are you with¡­ using them?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve only had them for the¡­ two or three days since I ended up here, but given they have a bit of a mind of their own, I¡¯m having to teach them even the most¡­ basic things. Like how to cut something.¡±

    ¡°Hmmn¡­ I did wonder why you didn¡¯t just cut your ropes when we caught you¡­¡± Rann comments.

    ¡°Can you read?¡± Anton asks, almost cutting off the end of Rann¡¯s sentence.

    ¡°Yes, Giornovan and Drachensprache. A little bit of the nearby Elvish language too, we had the occasional elf client.¡±

    The Chief raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°Giornovan and Drachensprache? Drachenkoenig is a long way from the Giornovan Empire.¡±

    ¡°I had a cousin in the capital there whom I exchanged letters with since I was young. I learned Drachensprache from her, and she learned Giornovan from me.¡±

    The five of them exchange looks again. The Chief closes her book, looking at me.

    ¡°Well. While you¡¯re here, any questions?¡±

    ¡°Are Rann and Vann brothers?¡±

    I had to ask. It¡¯s been on my mind since I first saw Vann. Vann chuckles.

    ¡°Actually, Rann here is my grandson, hence Anton referring to us as ¡°The Carterens¡±. I passed when I was 34, before he was born. He passed away when he was 27, but he turned up in the Underlands before I did, so here, he¡¯s ten years my senior.¡± He says, glancing towards Rann.

    ¡°It¡¯s a strange thing to run into your grandfather as only a middle-aged man. Stranger still when I¡¯m older in years than he is.¡± Rann rubs his chin.

    ¡°Middle-aged? I was still in my prime when that archer got a lucky hit on my neck. Are kids these days not taught to treat their elders with respect?¡± Vann furrows his brow, giving Rann a disapproving look.

    ¡°You¡¯re certainly over the bar for middle-aged now, young man. Take it from this wizened old man of ten years your senior. I¡¯m nearly old enough to be an antique.¡± Rann smiles, sitting back.

    ¡°Only an old codger would call themselves ¡°wizened¡±, you old codger.¡± Vann shoots back, unamused.

    The Chief sighs.

    ¡°If you two are quite done, I¡¯ve made my decision.¡± She crosses her arms, looking straight at me.

    ¡°Already? That¡¯s faster than usual, Mia¡­¡± Tiffany opines, but the Chief brushes it off.

    ¡°You will be serving directly under me, doing whatever task I tell you to do. Some here are out for your blood, so you will need to face some hard labour to make up for cutting Aran¡¯s poor, poor face. When you¡¯re not doing a task I¡¯ve set for you, you¡¯ll be assisting and training under Vann. With enough training, you and your wings could become Haven¡¯s best defenders.¡± The Chief says.

    The rest of the council nod in approval.

    ¡°Can I ask one more thing¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes, go on.¡± The Chief sighs, waving her hand.

    ¡°Defend Haven from¡­ what, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Bloodbeasts. Bonehounds. Fleshtearers. Wildlings. The other factions that survive down here. Nothing outside these walls are friendly, Marina.¡± Vann answers. Certainly evocative names for creatures I definitely don''t want to run into.

    The Chief picks up her book, putting it in a satchel she carries, then standing up as she grabs her staff.

    ¡°That concludes this council meeting then. Tiff, take Marina back to her room for now. Marina, you¡¯ll be starting tomorrow. The rest of you, back to work.¡±

 Chapter Six

    Well, as far as job interviews go, I think that went okay.

    I¡¯ve been waiting in the corridor for Tiff for a while now. It sounds like things have gone back to normal downstairs, but I do not want to walk out of here by myself. So here I wait, in this poorly lit corridor.

    It¡¯s weird that this whole¡­ this town exists here in the first place. You¡¯d think this was a young frontier town, not a hamlet in hell. This¡­ Red Abyss. On the surface, this place looks like it fits the bill for the common perception of ¡°hell¡± as fiery and inhospitable, yet building materials are plentiful, there¡¯s clean drinking water and fertile soil. Maybe some parts of the Underlands look as normal as my hometown did.

    ¡°Ooohh¡­ You look very deep in thought¡­¡± Tiff says, startling me. When did she get right beside me?!

    ¡°I was just¡­ I don¡¯t know. This place is so weird but this town feels almost normal. The town feeling almost normal makes it even weirder.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing like what they told you it¡¯d be, isn¡¯t it?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Well, I am suffering, but not in the way I thought I would.¡±

    Tiff giggles. I giggle a little before catching myself. Tiff has this disarming aura about her that makes it far too easy to lower your guard without realising. She¡¯s shorter than me, about a little shorter than the Chief is, with a mature figure and slightly muscular-looking arms. She wears a simple, pretty but utilitarian dark green dress that goes down to her calves, large leather boots, with a white blouse and a red shawl matching the colour of her vibrant red hair, which helps bring out her grassy-green eyes. Green is a rare colour down here, and it suits her well. She¡¯s also, uh.

    Big.

    Not like, Chief big, but big enough that I feel somehow inadequate compared to every woman I¡¯ve met here. She has sharp eyes, like the Chief, but while the Chief has an eternal scowl, Tiff has a warm, inviting, comforting smile. Maybe she smiles a little too much, if anything.

    ¡°Mia told me to take you back to your room, but if you¡¯ll be her personal lackey, it¡¯d help if you knew your way around here, mm~?¡± She smiles.

    She has a point, I¡¯ve never had a chance to really look around this place beyond being dragged up the main street by the Chief.

    ¡°Alright, but¡­ can¡¯t we take a side exit or something? I¡¯d rather not go out through the tavern-¡±

    ¡°Come with me~¡± Tiff hums, dragging me towards the door by the arm. Great. Another dragger.

    She throws the heavy door open with ease, practically pushing me down the stairs in front of her as I stagger down into the tavern, leaning against the wall when I get to the bottom. There are less people down here than before, but¡ª

    ¡°Hey. Wing girl.¡± Aran calls.

    He and a couple others had moved to the table right next to the stairs, waiting for me to come out. They get up and walk towards me, with my back already against the wall. Shit¡­

    ¡°Hi Aran!¡± Tiff jumps in between Aran and I, catching Aran off guard.

    ¡°T-Tiffany!? What¡¯re you-¡± Aran starts, taking a step back as Tiff continues to invade his personal space.

    ¡°Oooh, cool scars Aran! How¡¯d ya get them? Fighting some great beastie?¡± Tiff takes a step forward to match Aran¡¯s step back.

    ¡°Get them? Didn¡¯t you see she-¡± Aran shoots.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything, but those scars are cool! Girls like a man with a few scars~¡± Tiff shoots back.

    ¡°Wait- They do? But they came from-¡± Aran stutters out, crumbling under Tiff¡¯s relentless onslaught.

    ¡°Anyways, I have places to show Marina here, so byeeee Aran~¡± Tiff sings, before dragging me away from a bewildered Aran.

    Tiff pulls me around the outside of the room, paying no heed to the eyes following us, then yanking me out the door onto the main street. Looking outwards from the tavern, the town actually consists of three streets lined with buildings, all converging on the tavern that seems to double as a town hall on the first floor. The streets are busier, with people moving between the shops, carrying planks, food, new clothes, weapons¡­

    ¡°Impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± Tiff asks, standing beside me.

    ¡°Do I need to worry about money here?¡±

    ¡°Haven runs on a needs-based economy, where everyone gets the tools for their jobs, their clothes, and their food based on their role. If you want something in particular, you can trade personal items, or your labour in the form of promissory notes for it. Everyone is entitled to three meals a day and two drinks from the tavern, although more may be permitted at a superior¡¯s discretion.¡± Tiff answers succinctly.

    ¡°That is impressive¡­¡±

    ¡°A lot of the work of our current economic system was put in place - and enforced - by Mia¡­ er, the Chief. There used to be a lot of fighting over good equipment or decent food before she took charge after the previous Chief passed.¡± Tiff continues.

    ¡°Say, um¡­¡±

    I move closer to Tiff, lowering my voice.

    ¡°Do you know what happens when you die here¡­?¡±

    ¡°Did you know what would happen when you died up there?¡± Tiff shrugs.

    ¡°I had a vague idea, but it didn¡¯t involve¡­ job interviews in town halls.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good you¡¯ve kept your wits, Marina~ Now, let us go on with the tour!¡± She grins.

    Tiff puts her hand on the small of my back to pull me along with her down the rightmost of the three streets before me.

    ¡°This is Cellar Lane! Named so because the Cellars are at the end of it; a whole bunch of dark caves that you¡¯re very lucky you didn¡¯t end up in!¡± Tiff says very nonchalantly.

    ¡°Is it¡­ do people often get locked in the Cellars?¡±

    ¡°Well, you may just be told to go down there to harvest some of the vegetables that grow underground, but if you get on the Chief¡¯s wrong side she¡¯ll drag you down into the deepest, dankest hole there is and leave you there until you¡¯ve¡­ err¡­ learned their lesson.¡± She nods.

    ¡°And that lesson is¡­?¡±

    ¡°... Don¡¯t get on the wrong side of the Chief.¡± She chuckles sheepishly.

    Sagely advice. Tiff steps out in front of me, gesturing at our surroundings; houses on one side, and multiple fenced-off gardens and small fields on the other.

    ¡°But! Aside from the Cellars, the Lane is where our farms, gardens, the tannery, and the blacksmith are. Marina! Do you know why the tannery is as far as possible from the rest of town?¡±

    I¡¯ve never seen a tannery in person before, so¡­

    ¡°N-no?¡±

    Tiff leans in close, putting an arm around my shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s cuz it stinks of shit.¡±

    I stifle a laugh at such a blunt delivery of such crass words from such a soft, girly voice. Tiff grins in triumph.

    ¡°Even if it smells, the tannery is just as important as every other part of town. We have to make use of everything to survive around here. Hunting trips are rare, but whatever is hunted, every part of it must be used. Meat, organs, bones, fur, skin. As Anton would say; It is imperative that we do not allow anything to be put to waste. After all, we are a civilised folk, and failing to act as such would leave us no better than the barbarians that stalk these unhallowed grounds!¡±

    Tiff puts on a pretty decent impersonation of Anton¡¯s gait and posture. After all, Anton is standing right behind her, so visually I have a good point of reference. Tiff doesn¡¯t seem to notice this, despite me doing my best to convey this with my eyes.

    ¡°Henceforth, under the expertise and leadership of I, Anton Clemenceau, we shall all rise above the muck and grime of this crimson abyss, and ascend ever upwards to the greater heights of civility, decency, lack of humour, and¡­ and¡­ he¡¯s right behind me, isn¡¯t he.¡±

    Tiff drops the act, turning to look up at Anton, who is flicking through the pages of his ledger, having paid no heed to Tiff¡¯s performance.

    ¡°Miss Valm, I am concerned with the quality of blood potatoes supplied to the kitchen in recent weeks. They have been consistently decreasing in size and in taste, with the more recent samples tasting too much like blood for many resident¡¯s pallets. Additionally, I am concerned with the quality of the most recent set of cooking knives supplied to the kitchen. Small amounts of rust have appeared on some of the blades, and the wooden grips are less durable and prone to causing splinters compared to the previous leather grips.¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Anton raises his objectively fair concern. Tiff just sighs and looks at me.

    ¡°See? He doesn¡¯t even acknowledge when people are trying to make a joke with him. He¡¯s no fun.¡±

    She turns back to answer Anton, her voice notably flatter.

    ¡°We haven¡¯t had a successful hunt in four months now, so we¡¯re very short on new leather. As for the rust and quality of the wooden handles, I¡¯ll come round the kitchen later to check them myself to see which ones need to go back to Martin¡¯s. Satisfied?¡±

    Anton nods, and wordlessly walks away from us. Tiff lets out another sigh, before her mood perks back up.

    ¡°Right! Marina, do you want to see the secret of Cellar Lane?¡±

    ¡°Is it something in the Cellars¡­?¡±

    ¡°No, but it is near them~¡±

    Tiff grabs my sleeve and pulls me across the road, through a path between the gardens and under a natural archway in the stone cliff. Rather than stepping into a cave, I step onto a wooden deck, and the sound of rushing water hits my ears. Before me is a large wooden waterwheel that dominates the room, turning a set of millstones on either side, with several bags of grains and flour leaning against the wooden support beams.

    ¡°A water-powered grain mill! With an overshot waterwheel for high efficiency, connected to not one but two millstones to grind multiple items at once! With one grinding grain to make flours, and the other grinding bark for the tannery to use, this is¡­ I never thought I¡¯d see something like this here!¡±

    Tiff looks slightly caught off-guard with me gushing over the marvel of hydropower engineering before me. I¡¯ve never gotten to see a mill like this up close.

    ¡°Well, you¡­ I guess I don¡¯t have to explain anything, do I? Haven is the only place you¡¯ll find anything made with flour in all the Abyss. It¡¯s one of the few things that make living here a little more comfortable for everyone.¡±

    As I duck under the flume above the waterwheel, I step up to find myself face to face with-

    ¡°Who let you in here, girl.¡±

    I jump backwards and hit my head on the flume, before falling down onto my backside. Above me stands Einar, glaring down at me like he always does. Tiff rushes around, helping me get back to my feet while shooting her own glare at Einar.

    ¡°I did, Einar. She¡¯s working under the Chief now, so maybe don¡¯t go creeping up on her.¡±

    Einar blinks.

    ¡°I work here. The girl crept up on me.¡±

    ¡°Well! Marina seems to know as much about mills as you do, so maybe you won¡¯t be working here much longer!¡± Tiff shoots back.

    Einar looks back at me.

    ¡°You know mills, girl?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ I¡¯ve never worked in one, but I had relatives that made waterwheels and my father had a book full of diagrams laying around which detailed how lots of things work, and some of it explained how mills worked¡­?¡±

    Einar¡¯s harsh gaze softens a little.

    ¡°Most girls your age wouldn¡¯t be interested in how mills work.¡±

    ¡°I would constantly pester my dad with questions asking him how everything around me worked, aha¡­¡± When I had the courage to. I wasn¡¯t exactly a talkative child, otherwise.

    Einar moves his head slightly, in what almost looks like a nod of approval, before Tiff hooks me around her arm and starts dragging me away.

    ¡°Yes, very cool, you clearly know everything there is to know about this, so let¡¯s just move onto the next thing, shall we?¡±

    Tiff sounds a little annoyed that she didn¡¯t get to really say anything about the super special secret mill of Haven that she was so excited to show me, as I follow her back across the garden path. There¡¯s a few people walking along the street or working in the gardens further down, and while they stare, none want to make eye contact with me.

    ¡°They¡¯ll warm up soon enough.¡± Tiff says, noticing the looks I¡¯m getting.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me that much.¡± I shrug. It does bother me a little, but¡­ it could be worse.

    If there¡¯s anything on my mind, it¡¯s that this is the third time Tiff has used the word ¡°cool¡± in a sense not relating to the temperature. It¡¯s an odd term for someone to use like that. Although, most of my interactions were with my family or when visiting high-class clients, so if that¡¯s just how people talk where she¡¯s from, then I wouldn¡¯t really know.

    We make it back to the centre square in front of the tavern, with Tiff stopping to ponder for a moment.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ You¡¯ve already seen the main street twice, I guess¡­¡±

    ¡°One of those times was when I was upside-down, and the other time I was dragged straight to the tavern by the Chief¡­¡±

    ¡°W-well! You¡¯ll be seeing it enough anyway, but we have the markets, butcher, and carpenter to our left, and the bakery, tailors, and armoury to our right! The Chief put you in a room behind the armoury last night, but I thiiiiink she said you¡¯d be in the side room of the library from now on¡­ So, onto Crystal Road!¡±

    I set off before Tiff starts yanking at my arm, following along beside her down Crystal Road as she points to the structures on either side of the road.

    ¡°On our left we have the library, which doubles as the Chief¡¯s residence and thus where you¡¯ll be staying from now on, then the schoolhouse beside it, and the bunkhouse across from it, with houses the rest of the way down. But, none of these are the source of the road¡¯s namesake! For that, you¡¯ll have to follow me~¡±

    Tiff sets off running down the steady slope of the road, so I best start running after her. We get past the last of the houses, as the path narrows and starts to zig-zag down the hill, the horizon hidden behind a thick treeline. Tiff rounds a tree near the bottom, disappearing out of sight. Whatever¡¯s down here, it better be¡­

    Wow.

    A sheer, obsidian-dark cliff rises before me, disappearing up far beyond the low-hanging clouds. From the unseen heights of this towering cliff face falls a great waterfall, a shock of blue and white in a world of red and black. At the base of this waterfall is a large, shimmering pool of water, feeding into a number of other pools on downward steps along the hillside. This slice of paradise, hidden away from the rest of the world, with flowing water as clear as¡­

    ¡°Crystal¡­¡±

    ¡°Crystalfall. The hidden treasure of Haven.¡± Tiff smiles, standing beside me.

    I take a deep breath, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, my lungs fill with the soft, cool scent of flowing water, not the thick, pungent odour that hangs over the rest of this land like a foetid curse. The air itself feels lighter. Further down, some gather buckets of clean water, while children play and splash among the ponds.

    ¡°This waterfall is where the founder of Haven first descended into. No one really knew this place was here, right up against the cliffs that trap us down here, surrounded by thick trees and impassable jagged rocks, with only a single path leading out. Sure we have pastries, alcohols, and other small comforts, but it¡¯s this place that makes Haven feel like home.¡± Tiff says, looking up at the waterfall.

    ¡°My old home, near the mountains, was known for its waterfalls. There¡¯s something¡­ serene about just listening to the sound of rushing water.¡± Tiff takes a deep breath, enjoying the moment of peace.

    ¡°Hey! Who let you come down here?!¡± A young, familiar sounding voice calls out from behind.

    Tiff sighs, giving me an annoyed look before turning around. Arshak is marching toward us, accompanied by the orange-haired girl who was with him earlier.

    ¡°Sorry, Arshak¡¯s a little headstrong after recently joining the Expeditionary team with his sister.¡± She gives me a sheepish grin. Headstrong is definitely a fitting term for Arshak.

    ¡°That¡¯s his sister?¡±

    ¡°Twin sister, actually. The two were found when they were both about 11. It¡¯s terrible that they ended up here, but at least they have each other.¡±

    Arshak gives a stern look at me, then looks at Tiff.

    ¡°I thought she was destined for the Cellars.¡± He says impertinently.

    ¡°No, actually. She works for the Chief now.¡± Tiff responds with a smile.

    ¡°She- What?!¡± Arshak looks shocked.

    The girl beside Arshak stares blankly at him.

    ¡°Rann did say the Chief would be interested in her.¡± She even sounds like a female version of Arshak, just a lot¡­ calmer.

    ¡°A-Arshiya¡­!¡± Arshak looks¡­ shocked, that his sister would disagree with him.

    Arshiya, hmm. Arshiya and Arshak. Cute.

    Tiff smiles at me.

    ¡°These two are the youngest members of the Expeditionary team. They turned sixteen three moons ago. Arshiya, Arshak, I hope you treat your new junior respectfully.¡± Tiff stresses her final word, while staring straight at Arshak.

    ¡°J¡­ Junior? What? She¡¯s clearly an adult from some other roving tribe¡­¡± Arshak retorts, confused.

    ¡°Actually, Marina is new here, and she is only fifteen. The Chief confirmed all of that.¡± Tiff responds.

    Arshak looks distraught. Arshiya gives her brother another look.

    ¡°She has wings with swords in them, but you¡¯re hung up over her looking older than fifteen?¡± She asks, in a calm but inquisitive tone.

    ¡°Well the wings aren¡¯t so in your face as¡­ everything else!¡± Arshak shoots back, knowing he¡¯s losing this battle.

    Wings, be ¡®in their face¡¯.

    My wings flick out from under my cloak and stretch out to their full length, making everyone jump back and Arshak go for his sword. I just smile.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t in your face, huh.¡±

    Arshak looks more and more distraught by the moment, while Arshiya steps forward, mesmerised with my wings.

    ¡°They look so soft¡­ can I touch them?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Sure, as long as you don¡¯t do anything to, uh¡­ upset them.¡±

    Arshiya reaches out, going to stroke the upper edge of my wing¡­

    ¡°Gyaah?!¡±

    I recoil, just as Arshiya does. I felt that. I felt her touch my wing! I¡­ I still can¡¯t feel my own hand through my wing even as my hand feels it, but I feel when other people touch them?

    ¡°A-ah, sorry, I just¡­ I didn¡¯t expect to feel you touch them, see, I can¡¯t feel through my wings when I touch them myself, so it¡¯s weird that I can feel other people touching them through my wings alone. It¡¯s¡­ just this bizarre sensation that I haven¡¯t gotten used to yet. I feel my wings on my hand, but I can¡¯t feel my hand on my wings, if that makes any sense, aha¡­¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Tiff ponders.

    She then grabs my arm, starting to drag me off for what I hope is the last time today. Or ever, preferably.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s the Haven tour wrapped up, let¡¯s get you to your room, say goodbye to the twins now~¡±

    ¡°Tiff, do you have to drag me around everywhere¡ª¡±

    Tiff cuts me off, dragging me away with her alarmingly strong arms.

    ¡°Be quiet. Come with me.¡± She says in what I can tell is an unusually serious tone.

    I¡¯ll behave, then. Off we go.

 Chapter Seven

    I¡¯m back in the same room that I woke up tied to a chair in. At least this time, I¡¯m not tied to the chair.

    The Chief has half a dozen open books scattered across her deck, mumbling to herself as she flicks back and forth between different pages. Tiff and Vann are standing on either side of the Chief¡¯s desk, each looking through books of their own.

    ¡°Do you¡­ guys need help, or-¡±

    ¡°Can you read Underlander?¡± The Chief cuts me off, without looking up at me. Underlander? Is that a language here?

    ¡°N-no.¡±

    ¡°Then your help isn¡¯t needed.¡± She says, flicking through the pages of a particularly thick book.

    They told me to keep my wings out while they look for¡­ whatever they¡¯re looking for, so they¡¯re out from under the cloak, resting by my side. Even sitting in a chair, they¡¯re big enough that they nearly touch the floor. Some of the largest feathers are longer than my legs, and the blade-feathers have nearly triple the reach of my arms at their full length. The fact that they can extend out so far, yet fully retract between the normal feathers to be perfectly hidden is almost like they were designed rather than, well¡­ natural.

    ¡°Err, you don¡¯t have to have them out like that, Marina¡­¡± Vann comments.

    Oh. I didn¡¯t notice that my left wing is fully outstretched, taking up a lot of space as I look over its feathers. These things really take up a lot of room.

    As I¡¯m looking at my left wing, the right wing bumps my shoulder with some force.

    Did¡­ Did you just hit me? For saying you take up space?

    When I look at my right wing, the left hits my other shoulder.

    ¡°Wh- You?!¡±

    I jump to my feet, grabbing one of my wings as it keeps trying to hit my shoulder. I get it, you don¡¯t like what I called you, can you just stop-

    ¡°Marina!¡±

    The Chief calls, raising her staff as golden chains materialise and wrap tightly around my wings, restraining them - and thus, me - as they struggle against the chains. Even as they struggle, though, the chains binding them don¡¯t rattle against themselves, the only noise made is of the air being displaced as such a large surface area thrashes about.

    Okay, wings, can you just¡­ let¡¯s just calm down, okay? If we calm down, the chains will go away, okay¡­?

    My wings eventually settle, resting limply in the chains. The Chief sighs.

    ¡°If this really is what it is, this is going to be a problem¡­¡±

    ¡°What is ¡°it¡±, then? Do you have answers for why I have, well¡­ this?¡±

    I say, gesturing out at the giant red wings flanking my sides. The Chief leans over her desk, giving me a look to keep quiet as she¡¯s about to explain everything.

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve read, you have a Gift; I¡¯m not being ambiguous, that is the actual name of it. A Gift can take nearly any form, and it¡¯s attached either internally or externally to a Damned. It¡¯s not known how people receive Gifts or where they come from, but they exist. There are books that go over very loose definitions of the categories that Gifts can fall into; those that replace a body part, those that function as a new body part, and those that¡­ have a mind of their own. This book has an example of a Damned with snakes on his shoulders that bit people, and eventually he died from the snakes biting him. With the way that you¡¯ve described your relationship with your wings, it would seem that you fall into the latter category.¡±

    Tiff steps forward, giving me a concerned look.

    ¡°If they rebel against you like that, it could mean they pose a danger to you. On top of the potential danger it poses to other people. You¡¯ve already cut someone¡¯s face. Next time could be worse.¡± Tiff sounds¡­ uncharacteristically dire.

    I look down at my wings. They remain motionless, still bound in golden chains.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me any of this when you first interrogated me?¡±

    ¡°Because we had only just met you, and I wanted to observe you for a time to ascertain the nature of your wings. As a soulseer I can read people easily, but sentient wings with a mind of their own are a different matter. Your actions¡­ including the apparent fight with your wings just then conclusively prove that they are indeed a Gift.¡± The Chief explains. ¡°Besides, you were our prisoner. You hadn¡¯t earned our trust then.¡±

    ¡°But I have now¡­?¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve earned some. You¡¯ve been well-behaved and shown no malice so far.¡± She shrugs lightly.

    ¡°Does this Gift also explain how I died when I was fifteen, but here I look¡­ several years older?¡±

    ¡°That¡­ maybe. It isn¡¯t clear on that. What is clear is that you¡¯re not lying when you say you¡¯re fifteen. You¡¯ve earned some trust through your own effort, but I have absolute trust in my ability to read people. You¡¯re not the type of person to lie, Marina.¡± She answers, crossing her arms.

    ¡°If Mia trusts you, then we trust you. Your wings, however¡­¡± Tiff says, glancing at my chained-up wings with concern.

    Vann steps forward, putting a hand on Tiff¡¯s shoulder to reassure her.

    ¡°Look, if she wanted to, or if her wings wanted to, I¡¯m sure she could have easily cut her way out of being captured by the Expeditionary team earlier. I don¡¯t believe that she poses such a threat, Tiff.¡± He says.

    ¡°I¡¯m not so much worried about her hurting others as I am her hurting herself with them¡­¡± Tiff sighs a little, rubbing her elbow.

    ¡°Actually, I¡­ sorta¡­ let myself be captured. You guys had sweet food, and tents. I figured being your prisoner would probably be safer than trying to survive by myself out there.¡±

    The Chief raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

    ¡°You certainly put a lot of trust in us, then. There¡¯s far worse out there that could have grabbed you. Or eat you.¡±

    ¡°Trust that you made the correct guess to place, though.¡± Vann says, rubbing his chin.

    ¡°You know, there is another thing about our Marina here that I feel like no one has really questioned¡­¡± Tiff starts, walking up to me.

    She then stops, giving a look back at the Chief over her shoulder. The Chief flicks her hand, and the golden chains fall away.

    My wings start to withdraw themselves under my cloak¡­ slightly hesitantly, as Tiff is now standing right beside me, closely watching as my wings nestle themselves completely within the unknown confines of this magical mantle. Tiff steps back, looking at the others as she gestures towards me.

    ¡°How in this fiery red hell do they do that?!¡±

    ¡°My uh¡­ my cloak¡¯s enchanted in some way.¡±

    Vann raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°Waking up here with a magic item? That¡¯s a silver lining.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t wake up with it. Some old hooded guy I met shortly after I left that cave full of skulls gave it to me.¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The Chief looks like she didn¡¯t hear me properly.

    ¡°What? ¡°Some old hooded guy¡± gave you an enchanted cloak that perfectly hides your wings?¡±

    ¡°... Yes? I hoped I¡¯d maybe run into him again here if you have anyone that fits that description.¡±

    ¡°Yvonne, the current schoolteacher and previous craftsmen representative, is the oldest person here. The only place I could imagine someone like that would be is the Keepsguard, but¡­¡± Vann starts.

    ¡°The Keepsguard aren¡¯t known for their charity.¡± The Chief finishes.

    ¡°Keepsguard? Are they another group down here?¡±

    ¡°They operate out of a castle on the far side of the Abyss. They¡¯re few in number, but have the best equipment, and are very hostile to outsiders.¡± Vann sighs, scratching a scar on his forearm.

    Tiff, meanwhile, has been standing beside me, staring intently at my cloak.

    ¡°Can you¡­ take it off with the wings inside it?¡± She asks.

    I haven¡¯t tried that, now that I think of it. I stand up, undoing the small hoops holding it around the front of my neck, shrugging my shoulders back. My cloak slides back off my shoulders, then stops falling once it gets caught on the base of my wings between my shoulderblades. Tiff starts to reach over.

    ¡°So, if I pull it back now¡­¡±

    I grab Tiff¡¯s wrist, pushing her back. Vann immediately grabs his shortsword, so I hastily let go of Tiff¡¯s wrist.

    ¡°I- Tiff, the last time someone went to touch it without asking, my wings cut their face, so I¡¯d rather that not happen again¡­¡±

    ¡°Right, right, sorry, I nearly let my curiosity get the better of me, aha¡­¡± Tiff chuckles sheepishly.

    ¡°You were warning of the dangers of them barely a few minutes ago¡­¡± Vann sighs, letting go of his shortsword and giving Tiff a look. Tiff shrinks back a little.

    ¡°Right, I also should have asked beforehand¡­ they didn¡¯t hurt Arshiya when she asked to touch them, so that seems to work.¡± She nods.

    Hmm. Wings, can you shake off the cloak?

    I immediately regret asking this as my wings start to thrash about under the cloak, trying to wriggle it off, shoving my back around in the process like I¡¯m being dragged around by the back of my collar. Tiff and Vann step back, leaving me helpless as my wings struggle to free themselves from under the cloak.

    ¡°Uh, Marina, are you¡­ okay¡­?¡± Vann asks, concerned.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Fine, just my wings are¡­ failing to get the cloak off themselves.¡±

    Eventually, they seem to give up, falling limp. Which makes the cloak fall straight off. Evidently shocked, my wings curl inwards with their feathers splayed and flap a few times, in what looks to be the unmistakable, universal gesture of ¡°Are you kidding me?¡±. I carefully pick up the cloak off the floor by its fur-lined upper hem. This is the first time I¡¯ve taken it off since I first put it on¡­ two days ago. Feels more like two years.

    On closer inspection, the enchanted side looks noticeably darker than the other side; it doesn¡¯t reflect the light, it just absorbs it. Holding it up to my face, I can¡¯t see anything inside it, it¡¯s just a black void of unknowable size that my wings have been quite comfortable with staying in.

    ¡°Can I¡­¡± Tiff asks, her eyes fixated on the cloak. Well, it¡¯s not on my back, so my wings shouldn¡¯t make a fuss over it.

    ¡°Sure, just make sure you grab it by the fur so your hand doesn¡¯t-¡±

    Tiff grabs it, holding it up with one hand and sticking the other straight into the enchanted side of the cloak, and sure enough, her hand goes straight through into whatever pocket dimension is attached to it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never held something like this before¡­ How big is the inside?¡± Tiff says, in apparent awe.

    ¡°I have no idea, and I¡¯m not inclined to stick my head in to find out.¡±

    Tiff blinks, pondering for a moment.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably not a good idea, yeah.¡± She agrees.

    ¡°It¡¯s big enough to comfortably fit my wings, but I don¡¯t want to put anything else in there in case it just¡­ falls forever.¡±

    At least, I think it¡¯s a comfortable fit. Is it comfortable?

    My wings give a small flap of acknowledgement. Good, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re comfortable, wings. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever sleep on a real bed again. Tiff wanders over to show the Chief the cloak, while Vann steps up beside me.

    ¡°Say, Marina, while Tiffany is obsessing over your mantle, could you show me those wing-blades of yours?¡±

    Without me asking them, my right wing happily flicks itself out to its full length in front of Vann, extending its four blade-feathers out and putting itself on proud display for Vann to admire.

    Vann looks up and down the length, leaning down a little to take a closer look at the sharpened feathers extended out before him. My wings are usually more shy and flitty than this, but I guess they¡¯ll happily show themselves off if someone asks.

    Vann taps the blade-feather a few times, making a small metallic tinging noise.

    ¡°Interesting¡­ they¡¯re thin, but hard as steel, and sharp to boot. Do you know how you retract them?¡±

    Before I can answer, the wing flaps once to get attention, then the four blades withdraw to different lengths - the innermost one fully withdrawing back into the wing, while the other three stay out at short, medium, and full length. Vann looks impressed. I¡¯m impressed. I didn¡¯t even know they could do that individually.

    ¡°Ah, so they¡¯re layered on top of each other to give extra reach¡­ They move quickly, too. Hmm.¡±

    Vann chuckles a little, turning to me.

    ¡°Could you follow me outside, Marina?¡±

    ¡­

    Maybe this wasn¡¯t the best idea.

    Standing behind the library in a small yard. Tiff and Mia are by the back door, and Vann is standing across from me, holding some red, overripe-looking fruit with a bucket full of them beside him.

    ¡°S-so¡­ what are we doing out here, Vann?¡±

    Vann chuckles, tossing and catching the fruit. It looks¡­ like it¡¯ll make a mess.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be testing your reaction speed, Marina. Catch.¡±

    ¡°Catch? Wh-¡±

    I blink, and the red fruit is flying straight at me before I have a second to react. I reflexively shut my eyes - rather than being hit square in the face, a spray of cold liquid hits my neck. Opening my eyes, I see the fruit hanging limply from my right wing¡¯s blade-feather, before it falls to the ground with a splat.

    Huh. I guess you are pretty fast, wings. Alright, if this what we¡¯re doing, then I¡¯ll be ready for the next-

    I jerk to the side as my left wing swats away another incoming fruit. It then shakes itself, trying to get the sticky, wet fruit off its feathers. Vann laughs.

    ¡°Unless you want to get covered in bloodseed fruit, you should consider dodging instead of blocking.¡±

    Another fruit comes flying at me, so I step aside as fast as possible, but it still hits my wing. Okay, wings, if we don¡¯t want to get filthy again, we have to move together. When I move, you move-

    Another incoming fruit makes my wings violently jerk me forward, avoiding the fruit this time. Alright, that worked, but not so violent next time!

    More fruit. Faster. If I focus, I can avoid most of it, like I know how fast it¡¯s coming and where it¡¯ll hit. Just focus, don¡¯t get hit, and we¡¯ll get through this.

    ¡°Woo! Go, Marina!¡± Tiff cheers.

    Heh, I¡¯m getting the hang of th-

    ¡°Blergghhk?!¡±

    I¡¯m knocked on my arse as I¡¯m hit square in the face. The Chief laughs. Sticky, kernel-shaped seeds cling to my face as I wipe off the skin of the fruit. It smells, and tastes, like¡­ pomegranate.

    ¡°We¡¯re not done yet, Marina!¡± Vann calls, throwing another fruit at me.

    I jump to my feet, my right wing flicking upwards to intercept the fruit and cleanly slicing it in half. Rather than neatly falling to the floor, though, this move just gets seeds all over the wing, which shakes itself vigorously to try to get it off. At least I¡¯m back on my feet, I¡¯ll dodge the next one- Nope, it hits me in the chest. Alright, next one-

    Nope, back on the ground. My wings fall limp, defeated. Another fruit hits my forehead. I lost. I¡¯m covered in dirt and pomegranate juice. Did I really wake up in another world just to die via a fruit barrage?

    Vann, Tiff, and the Chief walk up, standing over me. Vann nods.

    ¡°Well, you did well enough. With the right training, we¡¯ll make a capable warrior out of you.¡±

    ¡°Do fights down here involve fruit-based projectiles?¡±

    ¡°They sometimes do, actually.¡± The Chief comments, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Do I have to stay like this in shame until told otherwise?¡±

    ¡°No, Tiff will take you to the baths¡­ right, Tiff?¡± The Chief sighs, and Tiff nods.

    Vann extends a hand to help me up, which I take. He chuckles, wiping the pomegranate juice off his hand.

    ¡°Just, uh¡­ don¡¯t tell Anton I used a bucket of bloodseed fruit for training purposes, alright?¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright¡­ I suppose it¡¯s fitting that the Underlands has pomegranates¡­¡± I mumble to myself, but Tiff overhears and gives me a confused look.

    ¡°Pomegranate?¡± She asks.

    ¡°The uh¡­ the bloodseed fruit. Something similar grew near my hometown, we called it pomegranate. Can I go wash myself off now¡­?¡±

    Tiff smiles, leading me back towards the Crystalfall, so I follow along behind her.

    Technically, it¡¯s a lie of omission to say pomegranates grew near my hometown.

    It¡¯s not the hometown they¡¯d be thinking of.

 Chapter Eight

    Fire.

    All-consuming.

    Indiscriminate.

    It burns man and monster alike.

    You remember the fire.

    A distant half-memory, yet as real as today.

    You remember your skin crackling.

    Your fingers, shrivelled and charred.

    Grasping at the spear driven through your heart.

    Blood.

    Gushing from your open wound.

    Your beating heart only hastening your end.

    Gasping your last breath.

    You can¡¯t remember. Was it the fire, or the blade that took you?

    Was it burning alive, or bleeding out?

    It wasn¡¯t both. It can¡¯t have been both.

    You burned.

    You bled.

    You don¡¯t feel the pain.

    Your burning fingers are icy cold.

    Your bleeding heart burns with fire.

    They did this to you.

    They did this to you.

    They will burn.

    They will bleed.

    You promise it to yourself.

    They will suffer for what they did to you.

    ¡­

    Urghh¡­

    My head¡­

    I did not sleep in a good position¡­

    My wings weren¡¯t fully dry, so they didn¡¯t want to get back in the cloak so my shoulders are all stiff¡­

    Sit up, stretch¡­

    ¡­

    Wings, are you¡­ awake?

    Do they sleep independently of me?

    My wings shudder, rising up a little to greet me. So you do sleep on your own.

    Are you asleep all the time you¡¯re inside the cloak?

    They don¡¯t move, pretending they didn¡¯t hear the question. Alright then.

    My new and presumably permanent room, besides the library, is a little nicer than the first one I was in. If anything it¡¯s a little¡­ cramped, what with the bookshelves lining the walls. I have a chest at the end of the bed for personal items, not that I currently have anything personal to put in it. It¡¯s the thought that counts.

    Judging by the noise outside, it¡¯s probably mid-morning. Due to the towering cliffs on all sides, the daylight hours down here are short, but there¡¯s always that uncomfortable red glow no matter what time of day, giving the air an eerie backlight. At least, right up against the cliffs, that red glow is a lot less prominent than it was on that hill I woke up on.

    At least, my room and the adjacent library are quiet.

    Maybe too quiet.

    Today¡¯s when I officially start as the Chief¡¯s¡­ assistant, I guess. I should probably get out of bed.

    As I go to get out of bed, the door to my room suddenly swings open, and the Chief bursts in with a smile on her face.

    ¡°Good moooorning, sleepyhead~!¡± She sings out in an uncharacteristic tone.

    I¡¯m now clinging to my blanket, startled by her sudden entrance, and very concerned over the Chief¡¯s sudden overly friendly demeanour.

    This is a trap.

    She looks directly at me, or rather through me, still smiling.

    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±

    ¡°... How la-¡±

    ¡°Two hours. Twenty-two minutes. Forty-six seconds. Seven, now. Eight¡­¡±

    Her smile fades into an unimpressed stare.

    ¡°That¡¯s two hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-eight seconds of water-carrying duty. You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m not taking your breakfast as well, if you¡¯re not out of your room this instant.¡±

    She turns and leaves after saying her piece, so I spring to my feet, hurriedly following her out the door-

    Only for my wings to get caught on both sides of the doorframe, nearly making me fall flat on the ground before I just catch my balance, my wings clinging close to my sides in apparent shame.

    The Chief watched all that happened, thoroughly unimpressed by it.

    ¡°It seems my hopes were misplaced if you¡¯re defeated by a simple door frame¡­¡±

    Rather than sputtering out a half-baked response, I just stand back up, carefully walk back through the door, grab my cloak and tie it on, fix my hair, fully button my shirt and walk back out looking much more presentable. The Chief gives a nod of approval before turning and walking up the stairs.

    ¡°Come, before it gets any colder.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Are we not eating in the tavern?¡±

    She stops halfway up the stairs, turning back again with an annoyed look on her face.

    ¡°Would you rather be harassed than eat? Because it certainly seems like that is your goal with these constant interruptions.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ No, I would¡­ like to eat.¡±

    She turns back around, marching up the rest of the stairs.

    ¡°Good. I hope you like porridge. If you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll learn to.¡±

    At the top of the stairs sprawls perhaps the best-furnished room in all of Haven. Finely-carved bookshelves, more ornate than those on the ground floor, are lined with old books, some wrapped in plain brown leather and others with intricately detailed covers. Several large tables span across the room, all covered with books, loose bits of parchment, quills, and clay ink pots. A fireplace warms the room, and before it is a smaller table with two bowls, a few simple chairs, and one noticeably larger lounge chair that¡¯s actually padded. By the gods I¡¯ve never seen something so comfortable looking.

    Naturally, the Chief walks over and sits on the lounge chair, quietly asserting that that chair is hers. Fair enough, I sit across from her by the fire, and the Chief starts eating like it¡¯s nothing.

    ¡°Is this¡­¡±

    She looks up at me.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Is this something I should get used to¡­? This feels very¡­ high-class.¡±

    She sighs, putting down her spoon.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t, but this is the only suitable arrangement currently. I will be blunt, Marina; people here are afraid of you. You have giant red wings with swords in them, and you cut a man¡¯s face. The only reason you¡¯re still here is that I¡¯ve convinced the townsfolk that you are my prisoner and pose no threat to them under my watch. For you to truly become part of Haven, you will have to earn a lot of goodwill amongst people before they¡¯ll start to trust you.¡±

    ¡°Well, is water-carrying a place to start earning that goodwill?

    She smiles a little, starting to eat again.

    ¡°It¡¯s a place to start.¡±

    The rest of our meal is consumed in peace. While I have comfortable enough lodging and wings with swords to keep me safe, neither of that matters much if I¡¯m going to be living here from now on. For what it¡¯s worth, this is a new life in a new town. I should do my best to make the most of it, even if this time the sky is more red than I¡¯d prefer it to be, not that I can do much about that.

    Once we finish eating, the Chief insists on taking our bowls away herself and leaves me in the quiet comfort of her room for the time being. As much as I¡¯d love to go browsing through the books up here, it¡¯s probably best that I stay seated and only do what I¡¯m told in here. At least the fire¡¯s warm. You¡¯d think warmth wouldn¡¯t be an issue with the naturally occurring fire around here, but the nights are bone-chillingly cold regardless.

    ¡­

    She¡¯s been gone for a while.

    Some of the books have titles written on the spines in Giornovan or Drachensprache, but the rest are either blank or written in a strange, blocky text that I can only assume is a language native to the Underlands beyond the cliffs of this abyss. Given the loose bits of parchment and quills on the tables, it wouldn¡¯t be a stretch to assume that some of these books are quilled by the Chief herself. If I have the time, it would be beneficial to learn the written language of the Underlands so I could read more of these books, if¡­ the Chief lets me. Given she lives in the library, she probably has final say over who gets to read what.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Honestly, being surrounded by this many books but not being allowed to touch any of them is kind of getting to me. Books weren¡¯t exactly rare in my previous life, but I never had this many to choose from.

    I shouldn¡¯t. I mean, she sat us at the only table in this room that isn¡¯t half-buried in books.

    There is one bookshelf almost in arms reach. Maybe. Maybe if I just¡­

    ¡°Marina.¡±

    The Chief¡¯s voice startles me, jumping out of my chair and standing up stiff and straight to attention.

    ¡°Y-Yes Chief!¡±

    ¡°Why are¡­ nevermind. Anton needs you for something.¡±

    ¡°Anton needs me for something?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I do.¡± Anton suddenly answers.

    Anton¡¯s voice makes me spin on the spot, finding that Anton is standing beside the Chief, looking nonplussed over my startled reactions. He then continues,

    ¡°You know how to cook, yes? Good. Giselle burned her hand yesterday, so you¡¯ll be filling in as the soup chef for this week.¡±

    ¡°Soup chef? For the week?! But I-¡±

    ¡°The Sovrana Republic is known for its vegetable-based soups, yes? We¡¯ve run out of meat, and you should be capable of making something palatable enough for this week¡¯s soup.¡± Anton continues like he never heard me open my mouth in the first place.

    Seeing my bewilderment, the Chief sighs lightly and fills in the gaps Anton didn¡¯t cover.

    ¡°What Anton means is you make a big pot of soup that¡¯ll usually last the week. You make it, then we just leave it on a low heat for whoever wants it. I mean, it¡¯s soup. Anyone can make soup.¡± The Chief shrugs.

    ¡°Can you?¡± Anton asks.

    ¡°Besides the point.¡± The Chief deflects.

    ¡°Well I¡­ suppose¡­ I could do something, but, if people don¡¯t like me, would they eat the soup I make?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be in the back of the kitchen, and the other chefs have been informed of your confidential assistance. No one will know.¡± Anton dismisses my concern out of hand.

    ¡°Wait, already informed? So you came here having already made the decision that I¡¯m helping in the kitchen?¡±

    Anton looks me straight in the eyes. His small, dark blue irises and spectacles only intensify the harsh, bright white of his judgemental pupils as I try my best to maintain eye contact.

    ¡°Are you presuming you¡¯re in a position to negotiate?¡± He questions.

    ¡°... No.¡±

    ¡°Good. Come with me.¡± Anton turns to leave down the stairs.

    Hesitant, I look at the Chief, who nods in the direction of the stairs, so I follow Anton down alone through the main room of the library and out the back door. We head along a back path that winds from behind the library around to the far side of the town hall-slash-tavern-slash-canteen-slash¡­ the village¡¯s main building, out of sight from the main street. From the front it looked fairly uniform, but around the back it looks far more disorganised, with rooms jutting out at every angle as they¡¯re needed, showing a constant rate of expansion since the structure was first built.

    Anton stops in front of a door, turning on the spot to face me. I don¡¯t notice this as I¡¯m gawking up at the building until I nearly walk straight into him, shrinking back under his focused gaze. Gods, does everyone down here have to stare so much?

    ¡°To be clear, before we enter the kitchen, you are a competent cook, yes?¡±

    ¡°I can cook without poisoning anyone, at least. As for what I¡¯m good at making, well¡­ from what I briefly saw in the gardens when Tiff dragged me through it, I might be able to make some form of minestrone¡­¡±

    Anton¡¯s dour face lights up upon hearing the magical word ¡°minestrone¡±, smiling as he opens the door.

    ¡°Ah, magnificent, there may truly be hope for us after all¡­¡±

    Anton steps through the door, and I go to follow him in only to be hit by a wall of light and a rush of fragrance. The first thing you notice about the kitchen is it¡¯s the brightest room in all of Haven. Pale blue crystals hang from the ceiling, five in all, shining as bright as daylight over the bustling kitchen below. A wood-fired oven dominates the centre of the room along the back wall, with iron stoves flanking either side of it. Pots and saucepans of differing heights and sizes are spread across the stovetops, with the smells of baked goods, roast vegetables, and enticing spices filling the room. Two men, one lean and tall like Anton and the other burly with broad shoulders, tend to the various pots on the stoves, while a short and thin dark-haired woman watches over the oven.

    ¡°This¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re arrived here in GC 1541, yes? The last year of my life was GC 1764. Cooking, at least in the western Giornovan Empire, has advanced significantly in the next two centuries, and I have done my utmost to bring those future improvements to Haven.¡± Anton says, smiling proudly.

    ¡°How did you get so much metal to make the stoves? Isn¡¯t that really scarce here?¡±

    ¡°At first it proved difficult, but once the people had a taste of my menu, the previous Chief had to step in before every weapon in Haven was melted down for the kitchen¡¯s sake. However, we don¡¯t have the time to continue with the tour, so we¡¯ll be straight to work. Larousse!¡±

    The broad-shouldered man lifts his head up at Anton¡¯s call, still chopping vegetables on a wooden chopping board while he talks.

    ¡°Yes, chef? Is this about the fill-in? Her station¡¯s clear down the end. We¡¯ve got the leftover produce ready there.¡± He says.

    ¡®Larousse¡¯ has the same accent as Anton, only less judgemental and more gruff.

    ¡°Good. Marina, with me. Don¡¯t touch anything outside your station.¡± Anton says, stepping forward into the kitchen.

    Anton moves through the kitchen, effortlessly weaving through the chefs toiling at their stations as I follow as closely behind him as possible so I don¡¯t bother any of the people walking around with knives held outwards very unsafely but I¡¯m definitely not the person to tell anyone here that. I¡¯m taken to the farthest stove from the door I entered in, with a tall soup pot full of water ready on the stove, and an assortment of¡­ what I assume are vegetables on the table opposite it.

    I can recognise what looks like beans, but it¡¯s difficult to recognise or even describe the other ones. One looks like a yellow cucumber, another almost normal-looking celery except it¡¯s bright red, some root vegetables that I hope taste like carrots¡­ they smell like carrots, something that feels onion-y, one very green leafy looking¡­ thing, and normal looking, yellowy, shell-shaped pasta! Okay, I should be able to do something with this.

    ¡°Miss Retali.¡± Anton¡¯s curt statement of just my surname snaps me back to reality.

    ¡°Y-yes! Sorry I was just, uh, familiarising myself with these¡­ ingredients. I think. Are these more or less like the vegetables they look like from the uh, Overlands¡­?¡±

    ¡°If you are familiar with celery, cucumber, carrot, the common onion, cabbage, and¡­¡±

    Anton lists off the ingredients, before brushing aside some of the leaves of the cabbage and picking up a bright red, unmistakeable,

    ¡°Tomato!!¡±

    ¡°Is¡­ that what you call it? Is this wolf peach reminiscent of something from the Sovrana Republic? I wasn¡¯t aware of any produce from that region resembling this bizarre berry¡­ it grows like a fruit, yet it has a far richer taste and is wholly unsuited to take part in any fruit salad. They grow wild around here, so I started picking them to examine their worthiness for cultivation, although I¡¯ve had some difficulty incorporating them in anything besides soups¡­¡±

    Anton explains in great length his opinion on this ¡®wolf peach¡¯ as he calls it. No, we didn¡¯t have tomatoes around my village, but that¡¯s definitely a tomato.

    ¡°Yes, we call them tomatoes, we, uh, used them for soups and as a sauce, notably with pasta¡­¡±

    ¡°Did I just hear you say with pasta?¡±

    The short woman¡­ or, girl by how young she looks, turns away from the oven, walking up beside Anton and taking the tomato from his hand to look closely at it. Her hair is pitch black with a straight-cut fringe and a short braid at the back, with a single red streak and bright red eyes that are, thankfully, a lot more rounded and softer than most other people here. Finally, someone who doesn¡¯t look like they want to kill something all the time¡­

    ¡°And waste perfectly good pasta with this rotten false-fruit?! I¡¯m not letting this ¡°tomato¡± anywhere near anything I¡¯ve baked, pastry or pasta!!¡±

    She scowls, and her soft face hardens into an angered glare directed at me. Gods, why¡­ Why are all the women here so scary-looking¡­

    ¡°Now, Minegumo, I¡¯d already put aside some pasta for this week¡¯s soup to give it some more weight given we¡¯re short on meat, so consider it a trial run for the compatibility of ¡°tomato¡± and pasta.¡± Anton continues, closely inspecting the wolf peach in his hand.

    ¡°You WHAT?! After I just-¡± Minegumo starts, stamping her foot in anger.

    ¡°We can discuss this later, Minegumo, we still have things to get ready for lunch lunch¡­¡± Anton sighs lightly.

    Anton guides the angered Minegumo back towards the oven, leaving me to my own devices with a soup pot and an array of ingredients before me.

    Right. I have a soup pot, I have soup ingredients, time to make a killer soup that¡¯ll get everyone to maybe, not be so afraid or hostile towards me. Easy enough.

    Besides the vegetables, I have some dried herbs that smell enough like oregano and thyme, and something somewhat¡­ garlicky¡­

    Actually, you know what, for the sake of it, let¡¯s just pretend this is a normal minestrone. I adored my mother¡¯s minestrone, and she made full use of that whenever I was sulking off or generally unhappy. No two minestrones are ever quite the same, yet they all have that same heartiness to them that I just can¡¯t get enough of. It¡¯s fundamentally a dish made with whatever vegetables you have laying around, with meat, pasta, or rice if you have any to spare, but the time and effort it can take makes the care put into it shine through.

    I was a bit of a reclusive child. I¡¯d get upset easily and then I¡¯d spend the whole day hiding in my room. Few things did a better job at getting me to come back out than the smell of minestrone wafting through the house.

    Since we¡¯re here, let¡¯s establish the groundwork of what makes a good minestrone, shall we?

    Marina¡¯s Makeshift Minestrone

    Hello and welcome to Marina¡¯s Kitchen. Today we¡¯ll be attempting to cook a classic vegetarian minestrone with vegetables I barely recognise and no meat because we don¡¯t have any. Fortunately, we have beans, and beans are the proper base of any good minestrone. You¡¯ll need the following ingredients in any volume you wish, plus a decent amount of patience as we don¡¯t have pre-made stock to speed things up.

    Minestrone is, after all, more of a process than a set recipe, so use whatever you want, in any volume, so long as you have plenty of vegetables and plenty of herbs. The main thing you need is something to use as a base stock; this can be meat-based, but traditionally, beans are used for the core of the soup. As it¡¯s more of a process than recipe, you can use as much or as little of each ingredient as you like. You don¡¯t need to put pasta or rice in the soup, but a bit of carbs go well with such a hearty meal. No need to measure, just trust your feelings! Throw in every vegetable you have, it¡¯ll work wonders.

    Now without further ado;

    You will need:

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Beans, preferably kidney beans or any starch-heavy bean</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Salt</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Onions</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Carrot</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Celery</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Tomato</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Garlic</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Cabbage</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Spinach</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Rosemary</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Parsley</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Oregano</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Thyme</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Pasta or rice of any variety, although small-sized pasta works best</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Extra-virgin olive oil</li>

    </ul>

    <ol>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Combine the beans, onions, carrot, celery, garlic, rosemary, and parsley in a large pot of water. Add salt, bring up to a boil, then reduce to a simmer until the beans are cooked, in about 45 minutes to an hour. Remove the vegetables, then drain out the beans while reserving the liquid. Place the liquid aside.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Heat the olive oil in a large stockpot. Dice all the vegetables, and add the onion, carrot, and celery to the pot, season with salt and cook until softened. You can re-use the vegetables from step 1 for this, or you can use fresh vegetables instead. Add more oil if needed to prevent the vegetable from sticking. </li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Add garlic and cook until fragrant. Add the tomato last, stirring until the mixture starts to fry. You¡¯ll know when it¡¯s finished when the vegetables start to crackle as they fry.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Add the bean-cooking liquid from step one, and then the beans. Simmer for 10-15 minutes. </li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Add the pasta, and cook until tender for about 10 minutes. Add the cabbage and spinach, reducing the soup to a simmer.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Add any remaining herbs and salt as seasoning, serve immediately, or allow the soup to simmer for a few more hours to bring out more of the flavour. Can be served over a long period of time or several days, let the soup cool overnight and reheat the next day until consumed.</li>

    </ol>

    And with those six easy steps, the soup is ready to reserve and I am absolutely exhausted. I managed to get it ready just before midday, so Anton let me return to the library via the back path.

    Now, I just have to hope people like it, and that I didn¡¯t misuse any of the vegetables while I was assuming they tasted like what they look like.

    The Chief isn¡¯t in the library and I don¡¯t have any other responsibilities for the day, so maybe I can retreat to my room and get some rest¡­

    Well.

    I think I got like, half an hour¡¯s rest.

    Now the Chief¡¯s sitting on the end of my bed, looking at me with an extremely threatening smile.

    ¡°... Chief?¡±

    ¡°Marina.¡±

    ¡°... Should I-¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the Sovrana Republic, yes.¡±

    I sheepishly get out of bed, sitting on the end opposite to the Chief.

    ¡°You mentioned you can read and write, so that will be your job for the rest of the day.¡±

    ¡°What am I going to be writing, exactly¡­?¡±

    ¡°Your soup recipe. It¡¯s proved quite popular. Even Minegumo liked it after all her protestations.¡±

    The Chief stands up, leaving the room but calling back through the doorway;

    ¡°You¡¯ll find parchment, quills, and ink ready for you on the first floor. I¡¯m going back to get another serving.¡±

 Chapter Nine

    After all the busywork yesterday, I fell asleep early enough that I naturally woke up before the Chief stormed into my room to yank me out of bed. After having breakfast, I was told to wait out the back for Rann for some sword training to see how competent I am with a blade that¡¯s in my hands rather than in my wings. I was told to stand in this exact spot and not move until Rann shows up.

    How long I have to wait, though, is something I wasn¡¯t told. I¡¯ve already been standing out here for twenty minutes at least, and those clouds overhead look like they¡¯ll rain any minute now.

    When I do finally hear footsteps squelching through the mud around the building, there¡¯s more than one set of them. And they sound far too small to belong to Rann.

    ¡°Newbie!!¡± A child¡¯s voice yells behind me.

    I turn on the spot, and¡­ look down at the three children standing before me. The apparent leader of them is a boy with very short brown hair and bright red eyes, whose self-assured gumption says he¡¯s probably no older than ten. He¡¯s flanked by two girls; the taller one on the left, presumably older with her red-tinged black hair tied back in a ponytail, and a nervous, shorter girl with sandy-blonde hair and pale red eyes clinging to the taller girl.

    Now, despite the fact that a third of Haven¡¯s inhabitants are children, I haven¡¯t met any of them, let alone been approached by them. The Chief said I shouldn¡¯t approach them of my own volition either just so there¡¯s no misunderstandings while most of Haven doesn¡¯t necessarily trust me that much, and the adults are very protective of the children here. It hasn¡¯t stopped a few inquisitive kids from watching me through windows or peeking out from behind corners, but none of them have been so bold as to walk straight up to me.

    And did he just call me ¡°newbie¡±?

    ¡°Are you¡­ talking to me?¡±

    ¡°Hmm! You really are a newbie if you don¡¯t know how to address your superiors!¡± The boy proclaims, marching up to me as if he¡¯s expecting me to kneel.

    ¡°Superior? What?¡±

    The taller girl just sighs to herself in the face of the boy¡¯s performance, while the younger girl clings to her, nervously looking up at me.

    ¡°Well, since I am your superior, it falls on me to explain how things work, newbie. I¡¯ve heard people say you¡¯re fifteen. That you¡¯re twenty-something! That you haven¡¯t been in the Abyss long despite being an adult, or that you¡¯re a magical familiar the Chief summoned. None of that matters! What matters is you have been in Haven for less time than me, so therefore I, Hadrian, am your senior and superior in Haven!¡± He says, with all the confidence and gusto only a child could muster.

    ¡°... What?¡±

    ¡°It must be difficult to understand, but you should count yourself fortunate. I¡¯ve spent two years as the newest person in Haven, serving my time at the bottom of the ladder¡­ but no more, now that you are here! Now, you needn¡¯t worry.¡± He tuts, wagging his finger. ¡°I, Hadrian, will be a kind, generous, and helpful senior. I know all too well how it feels to be at the bottom, and I shan¡¯t subject you to the same.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ huh¡­¡±

    ¡°Now, come, my junior, and let me show you around Haven in a way only I can!¡± He extends his hand out to me, willing me to take it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know her name, do you, Adri?¡± The taller girl speaks up.

    ¡°Th-that doesn¡¯t matter!! And don¡¯t call me Adri in front of the newbie!!¡±

    ¡°Adri¡¯s a cute nickname.¡± I smile.

    ¡°Y-you will call me Hadrian, newbie!!¡± Hadrian¡­ yeah, I¡¯m going to call him Adri, retorts as his cheeks flush red.

    ¡°Could either of you two explain, uh¡­ what Adri is trying to tell me?¡± I ask, as Adri continues to complain and demand respect, even though he¡¯s barely half as at all as me.

    ¡°Adri¡¯s been the newest person in Haven for the past two years. He just wants to boast that he¡¯s not at the bottom of the pole anymore.¡± The taller girl answers.

    ¡°So, seniority is based on when you joined Haven, not your age?¡±

    ¡°Your age matters too. Adri doesn¡¯t want to think about that.¡± She sighs lightly.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, Mei!! All that matters is that she''s newer than me!¡± Adri yells back.

    ¡°And just what are you three doing here?¡± The Chief asks, standing in the back doorway of the library.

    The three kids freeze. I jump too, and my wings awkwardly flop out of my cloak in surprise, only further confusing the kids. Adri tries to stammer out a response, the younger girl clings even closer to the taller girl Mei, and Mei¡¯s the only one that can form a coherent sentence.

    ¡°Ch-Chief Lichtrufer! We were¡­ um¡­ Adri just got worked up over there being a new person in Haven, and¡­ Irie and I came with him just so he wouldn¡¯t get hurt!¡± Mei manages to say as the younger girl, Irie, presses her face into Mei¡¯s simple dress.

    ¡°Marina isn¡¯t going to hurt anyone.¡± The Chief sighs softly, smiling to let the kids know they¡¯re not in trouble. ¡°Not on my watch, anyway. She has an important job to do. Just like how you three were supposed to be helping weed the farm today, hmm?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s named Marina¡­?¡± Irie asks in a meek, quiet tone, peeking out from behind Mei.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m Marina.¡± I smile at her.

    Irie looks me up and down a moment, before shrinking back behind Mei just enough that I can only see one of her eyes. ¡°I had a friend named Marina, but you don¡¯t look like a Marina¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t?¡± I don¡¯t look like I fit my name? I mean, my body has changed a bit in this world, but¡­ I don¡¯t look like a Marina?

    ¡°Marinas don¡¯t have wings.¡± She says, furrowing her brow a little.

    ¡°Many different people may have the same name, Irie. It¡¯s quite rare for someone to have a unique name all of their own.¡± The Chief adds in. ¡°Now run along, you three. You wouldn¡¯t want Yvonne to find out you haven¡¯t been helping with your tasks, would you?¡±

    The three kids shake their heads in unison, hurrying past me while giving my wings a wide berth, down along the side of the library and onto the main street, leaving me and the Chief alone behind the library.

    ¡°Should I apologise for, uh¡­ engaging with them?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not your fault, Marina. Nor can I fault the childrens¡¯ curiosity. I¡¯m just glad this happened away from prying eyes, so hopefully no trouble comes from it¡­¡± She crosses her arms, looking towards the schoolhouse. ¡°That¡¯s the biggest concern some have. The safety of the children around you. I know you don¡¯t mean any harm, but your wings are a different story.¡±

    My wings shuffle and rub against my back. Somehow, I get a distinct feeling of guilt in my mind.

    ¡°They¡¯re learning. And getting better at behaving. At least, they don¡¯t seem to want to hurt anyone.¡± I shift my shoulders to move my cloak up slightly as my wings slink back inside its enchanted pocket¡­ storage¡­ dimension¡­ thing. I still can¡¯t believe I have such an item.

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure¡­¡± The Chief shrugs lightly, looking up at the sky. ¡°Looks like it might rain. I¡¯m heading back inside. Rann will be here soon enough.

    I go to follow her in, only for her to pivot on the spot, looking unimpressed.

    ¡°I believe you were told to wait here, weren¡¯t you?¡± She raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°But¡­ you said it will rain?¡±

    ¡°It might rain. It might not. Only time will tell. You¡¯re waiting there.¡± She turns back and heads inside, closing the door behind her.

    Guess I have to keep waiting here, I guess.

    That was my first interaction with some of the children of Haven. They weren¡¯t as afraid of me as I feared they would be. Well, Mei and Adri didn¡¯t seem afraid, but Irie¡­ she seemed more like the kind of girl that¡¯s afraid of everything. I¡¯ve seen those types before. She almost¡­ reminds me of someone, but I can¡¯t put my finger on who. I met a few girls like that; usually the young daughters of the families we personally delivered some of our instruments too. Young, sheltered, pale and sometimes sickly, always clinging to someone¡¯s dress. It seems she¡¯s well looked-after by her friends and by the people of Haven.

    I can understand why people would be protective of her. I also understand why¡­ people would be defensive towards me. I have wings. With swords in them. With a mind of their own. I¡¯ve already scarred someone¡¯s face, though apparently, the scars were only skin-deep, and he likes to show them off now. That hasn¡¯t changed everyone¡¯s opinions on me, though.

    For now, it¡¯s best I just do as I¡¯m told and try and keep my nose out of trouble.

    ¡­

    Well.

    I¡¯ve been waiting for over an hour.

    In the rain.

    Blood rain.

    It¡¯s not actual blood, the Chief says. It¡¯s just water that¡¯s full of iron.

    It¡¯s sure staining my sleeves like actual blood would.

    I could move, but I know the Chief¡¯s watching me from the window, so I¡¯ll behave, I¡¯ll stay put.

    For another hour, until the rain ceases, and look who turns up.

    ¡°Ah, the rain¡¯s stopped.¡± Rann says nonchalantly, walking around the corner of the library to stand across from me.

    ¡°You were waiting for the rain to stop before coming here?¡±

    ¡°I was. You didn¡¯t have a choice. Out there, none of us do.¡± Rann nods in the direction of the main gate.

    He places down his pack against one of the library¡¯s pillars, pulling out two wooden swords, throwing one to me which I manage to catch. It¡¯s a bit heavier than I expected, but¡­ it is solid wood. It¡¯d still hurt to get hit by this.

    ¡°Two questions, Marina. Know anything about hunting?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ not really, no. We didn¡¯t have to hunt to afford meat, and I was kinda terrible with a bow anyway¡­¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Rann walks across to stand opposite me, wooden sword in hand.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°... Alright? And, question two¡­?¡±

    Rann smiles. Then, he¡¯s on me in a flash, sword raised and falling on me in a flash, too fast for my arm to move up to intercept - but my wing deftly swipes upward, rushing from its confines to protect me from the strike. Rann regains his footing quickly, stepping backwards.

    ¡°Hmm, even when they¡¯re in the cloak they do move quickly to defend you. That may be problematic for today¡¯s lesson, though¡­¡±

    Rann scratches his chin, before pointing at the outstretched wing.

    ¡°Can you make them stay in the cloak? It¡¯d be difficult to test your actual skill level with swordplay if they¡¯re going to shield you like that.¡±

    Hmm. He has a point. Can you stay in the cloak, wings? He¡¯s not trying to kill me, so I¡¯m in no danger here. You just stay in there and let me handle this, okay?

    My wing gives a small flap and then withdraws itself within the cloak. Alright, been a little while, but I¡¯m still pretty good with a sword-

    ¡°Gyaahhhh!!!¡±

    Rann strikes me square against my upper arm, making me drop my sword and clench where he struck. Fuck, that hurt. Rann chuckles.

    ¡°Well, your wings stayed put. Seems we can do some proper sword training. But first, we¡¯ll assess your current ability. Pick up the sword.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright, just¡­¡±

    I pick up the wooden sword, getting used to its weight in my hand. Despite being wooden, it¡¯s weighted properly and it feels comfortable to wield. But somehow, I get the feeling that¡­

    ¡°... wouldn¡¯t a spear or any kind of polearm be a more sensible weapon for hunting and general defensive actions¡­?¡±

    ¡°Are you trained in using any of those weapons you mentioned?¡± Rann says, more of a blunt statement than a question.

    I¡¯m not, so I¡¯ll go along with what he says. I take a basic ready stance, and Rann nods in approval.

    ¡°Good. It¡¯s best we start with what you know, then we¡¯ll go from there.¡±

    Rann¡¯s immediately at me again, his sword flying towards my left thigh, too fast for me to block in time. He strikes me, sending a painful jolt through my body, but I flick up my sword in time to deflect his next blow aimed at my right shoulder. He steps back, raising an eyebrow as I rub the sore spot on my thigh.

    ¡°You deflected the strike at your shoulder, but let through a fatal strike to the leg?¡±

    ¡°I knew I wouldn¡¯t move fast enough to stop you from hitting my leg, so it was either get hit once or get hit twice!!¡±

    ¡°So you know your own limits. Hmm. Try and strike me, then.¡± Rann adopts a stance of his own, holding his sword above his head.

    If he¡¯s taking a high stance, then let¡¯s see how this five-step combo my mother taught me will fare¡­

    I step in, thrusting my sword straight for his chest. He strikes downwards to deflect the first blow, sending a twang of pain through my arms with the sheer strength of his parry, so I follow up with a shallow strike at his left shoulder. He blocks the second strike, but my third comes in at full force aimed at his left hip. He deftly twists his sword and swings upward, throwing back my third attack, so my fourth quickly comes down in a downward swing at his head, the wooden swords klacking together as he blocks, before I pull my arms back and thrust straight for his chest a second time -

    Only for my sword to thrust at the air, as Rann steps aside and strikes my arm with the pommel of his sword, nearly making me drop it again.

    Fuck. That was the best combo I knew, and all it got me was sore arms and a lot of sweat. I didn¡¯t even hit him once.

    ¡°Hmm. Your mother taught you some interesting techniques, but you lack direction.¡± Rann places his sword in the ground, rubbing his chin.

    ¡°Direction? What, do I need to aim my strikes better¡­?¡± I say, panting and wiping the sweat from my brow.

    ¡°Your stance and footwork are correct, but there are only two ways to break an opponent¡¯s guard. Speed, or strength. You hit them faster than they can block, or you hit them harder than they can take. Same goes for movement. Move fast to get around their guard, or force them back to break their guard.¡±

    He has a point, but¡­

    ¡°What do I do if my opponent is faster and stronger?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t fight fair.¡± Rann states.

    Alright, don¡¯t fight fair. Rann picks up his sword again, taking up his stance and pointing his sword at me. I take up my sword, waiting for Rann to make his move. When he does, you know what to do, wings.

    Rann steps forward, thrusting his sword straight towards my face. My wings shoot out, blades extended, deflecting the strike as planned. What I didn¡¯t plan on was my wings taking over the fight for me, wildly swinging at Rann and dragging me around while doing so.

    Wings. Please. This isn¡¯t working. Just stop, okay? Stop.

    They stop, letting me stand back up straight and dust myself off after being yanked around like a dog on a chain. Rann looks mildly interested in what he¡¯s just seen.

    ¡°Your wings could stand to learn a thing or two from watching you.¡±

    Apparently insulted by this statement, my wings flick out and curl downwards, resting their upper ridges on my hips-

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t use my body to express your disgruntlement at Rann¡¯s very truthful statement!¡± I shout, pushing my wings off my hips as they try to hold their pouty little pose.

    ¡°They¡¯re at least competent at defending you. I doubt anyone outside Haven would expect your wing-swords if they made a lunge at you.¡± Rann chuckles.

    After some struggling, my wings eventually give in and go back into their cloak. I almost feel like I should give them a name, but what the hell do you name sentient wings? Icarus? That¡¯s not the biggest question on my mind right now, however. The question that is on my mind¡­

    ¡°Say, Rann, since you¡¯re so talkative when the topic is combat and there¡¯s no one else around, can I ask a question?¡±

    ¡°Ask.¡± Rann furrows his brow, slightly perturbed by my words but listening regardless.

    ¡°You¡¯re not interested in training me to hunt with a spear or bow are you? Rather¡­¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡± Rann¡¯s gone back to his more familiar blunt and curt manner of speaking.

    ¡°You want to train me to fight people. To defend Haven, or to¡­ fight people outside Haven¡¯s walls. Training me to kill. Because¡­ that¡¯s what I¡¯d need to know to survive down here.¡±

    Rann sighs, looking away and planting his sword in the ground.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky it was Einar¡¯s club that knocked you out. Had he been a second slower, I¡¯d have taken your head off.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d¡­¡±

    A cold, hollow feeling fills me. My hands, and probably also my face, go pale. I was that close to death, less than a day after ending up here?

    ¡°Einar saw you coming. He chose to knock you out because he was, in his words, curious. You looked too old to be a kid who¡¯d just woken up here, but too well-dressed and clueless to be someone who grew up here. It was his judgement that saved you from a quick death.¡±

    ¡°... I should thank him.¡±

    ¡°You could.¡± Rann nods.

    That close to death, huh. Should I consider it a miracle that I¡¯m alive if I¡¯m alive in hell? Can anything be reasonably classified as a miracle down here¡­? I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m just standing here lost in thoughts and Rann¡¯s standing there waiting for me to do something. He seems more chatty when it¡¯s just the two of us, so I¡¯ll ask him a probing question and see where it goes.

    ¡°Can I ask something, Rann?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡± Rann stands up a little straighter, listening to what I have to ask.

    ¡°Do you consider this place, this world, to be hell?¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t related to your training.¡± Rann narrows his eyes a little, scratching his chin.

    ¡°You never said my questions had to be related to training.¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t, so I¡¯ll answer one unrelated question and then we¡¯re going to do some sparring. Shoot.¡± Rann sighs, pulling his sword from the ground.

    ¡°Do you consider this place, this world, hell?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Rann stares at me straight in the eyes as he gives his one-word answer.

    ¡°Err¡­ just, no? That¡¯s your answer?¡±

    Rann shrugs, having nothing more to say on the matter.

    Guess that probing question had nowhere to go. I mean¡­ Well, I guess everyone here¡¯s had years to process the fact of where they are. These are the Underlands. Not really the hell we were told about, just another world that¡¯s similar, but way suckier than our old one. If there is a ¡°Hell¡± like we were told, this is probably just the waiting room. But then would that make this purgatory¡­? I never heard or read of any mention of a purgatory¡­ Damn, I wish I listened to the priest more, maybe I¡¯d have a slightly better-

    ¡°G-gyahhh! I was still thinking!¡±

    Rann takes a wide swing at me, which my wing deflects, before another swing from Rann aims for my head. I strike it away with my own sword, taking a step back to try to get some space.

    ¡°You won¡¯t have time to think on the battlefield, Marina. Arms up, stay guarded.¡± Rann lunges at me again, and the fight is back on.

    Surely, if I just hold out, this¡¯ll only be like fifteen minutes and we¡¯ll be done and I can go back inside and take a load off. I forgot how exhausting fighting is¡­

    ¡­

    Four.

    Fucking.

    HOURS.

    My arms refuse to move. My legs are numb. Even my wings are exhausted, messily splayed out on the ground beneath me as I lay here trying to catch my breath. I have so many bruises my body stopped keeping track of where I was hurt so now everything hurts.

    ¡°Hmm. Think we should wrap up for the day if you¡¯re just going to lay in the dirt.¡± Rann mutters, picking up my wooden sword that has managed to remain more intact than my arms.

    ¡°You THINK?¡±

    I¡¯m laying in the goddamn dirt because I was kicked into the goddamn dirt.

    ¡°The only thing that¡¯s been ¡°trained¡± here is my pain tolerance!¡±

    ¡°High pain tolerance can mean the difference between life and death. The ability to stay focused even in great pain is a strength.¡± Rann scratches his chin, walking up and extending a hand.

    I glare up at him. You¡¯d think it¡¯d be obvious that I couldn¡¯t just take his hand like it was nothing with the very purple bruises visible on my forearms. Rann sighs, turning to walk away-

    ¡°H-hey! Don¡¯t leave me here! I literally can¡®t lift my arms to take your hand- ah.¡±

    And like that, Rann picks me up by my underarms and slings me over his shoulder. At least I don¡¯t have a bag over my head this time.

    Rann carries me back into the library, up the stairs and onto the first floor, slumping me over in a chair across the table from the Chief, who just raises an eyebrow at Rann.

    ¡°We can work with it.¡± Rann nods, before heading back down the stairs.

    The Chief returns to looking over her papers, leaving me to stew in indignation for a long while. Her staff rests by her side against the table.

    ¡°What did we learn today?¡± She finally asks.

    ¡°That Rann¡¯s a dick.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± She asks.

    ¡°He kicked my ass.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± She asks again, sounding a little annoyed.

    ¡°... I need to be able to fight if I¡¯m going to survive here.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She says, stacking up the papers in front of her and putting them aside before continuing,

    ¡°Everybody here has to learn how to fight, even if it¡¯s just pointing a spear the right way. Haven is well hidden and well defended, but we¡¯re not the largest group down here and large predatory beasts can and have gotten through the palisades before. You have sword-wings and sword training, Marina. Logistically, every person here is an asset, and when it comes to combat, you¡¯re an invaluable one. Rann in particular will likely be needing your help, probably not on the Expedition Team but certainly for our next hunt, so expect more training sessions with him in the coming weeks. Rann¡¯s the best warrior Haven has to offer.¡±

    ¡°More beat-up sessions, yaaay¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell Rann to go easier on you next time¡­ It was hard to work while hearing you cursing and yelling in pain for the past four hours.¡± Chief sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

    ¡°Do I have any other tasks today, o mighty Chief?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Cut the sass and go wash up.¡± Oh, it¡¯s so cute how she berates you while expressing her concern for you.

    ¡°I¡¯d love to, but my arms, legs, and wings have all been battered beyond repair and I cannot move. Please, dear Chief, carry me to the baths and wash my broken body¡­¡±

    Chief picks up her staff, scowling.

    ¡°If it¡¯s a broken body you want¡­¡± She growls.

    ¡°A-alright, alright, just give me a bit, don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t actually break anything please¡­¡±

    I get to my feet, staggering my way over to the stairs in a lot of pain. I look back at the Chief¡­ who¡¯s still pointing her staff at me, okay, down the stairs and down to the pools I go. I should probably grab a change of clothes, but I¡¯m already tracking mud through the library so I should just get out of here as quickly and directly as possible¡­

    ¡°Oi.¡±

    I stop, going to turn around before an arm wraps around my waist and the Chief drapes my arm over her shoulders, helping me towards the door.

    ¡°When we get back you¡¯re cleaning the mud you tracked across my floors, understand?¡± She says, looking forward as we walk.

    ¡°Understood.¡± I smile.

 Chapter Ten

    I shouldn¡¯t be poking at the dark purple bruises covering my forearms, but I have nothing better to do while sitting in a dark, quiet corner of the tavern up by the stage on the wall opposite the stairs, waiting for the breakfast crowd to clear out so I can leave without causing a fuss.

    As of today, I¡¯ve been in Haven for two weeks. I¡¯ve settled into my room, I¡¯ve been given a tour of the town by Tiff, helped in Anton¡¯s kitchen, been assaulted by Vann, beaten by Rann, and served the Chief¡¯s every whim as I run errands and simple tasks for her.

    The Chief assured me that if I showed myself helping out and making sure things run smoothly people would start to warm up to and accept me.

    The opposite has happened.

    It¡¯s easy to overhear the rumours. I¡¯ve heard that I¡¯m a spy, or I¡¯m actually a slave captured by Rann, or that I could be a familiar summoned by the Chief. The most creative one I¡¯ve heard is that I¡¯m a manifestation of our sins here to punish those who thought they could escape the Goddess of Order¡¯s justice through death.

    It¡¯s interesting that some people still hold onto their religious beliefs, against the general consensus that if you¡¯ve ended up in the Underlands, it means your god has abandoned you. The story goes that there are, or were, twelve Great Gods, but half of them died in a great war thousands of years ago when the evil denizens of the Underlands invaded the Overlands, so the story goes. Although the dead Six¡¯s bodies perished and remained trapped in the Underlands, their spirit lives on in the realm of the gods, formless, but not powerless. Each month is named after one of the Great Gods, with the living Six giving their names to the warmer half of the year, and the dead Six the colder half. The month you were born determined who your personal god was, the one that would protect and guide you.

    I was born on the first Ainesday of Samhraine, or to translate, the first Monday of January, which was actually the third day of the month. The Summer Goddess¡¯ day and month. Being born on a god¡¯s day in a god¡¯s month was considered auspicious.

    That ¡°auspicious¡± birthday sure turned out well for me.

    I¡¯m steadily learning people¡¯s names and faces. As my eyes scan the room, those that haven¡¯t talked to me either pretend I don¡¯t exist or avert their eyes, and those that do tend to stare back with varying degrees of scorn. Johnny, Arshak, and Einar from the Expedition team give me the stink eye, although Arshiya doesn¡¯t seem to mind me. The only group that doesn¡¯t hate or ignore my existence besides the Council is Anton¡¯s kitchen and waitstaff.

    Once I¡¯m able to leave here I should tell the Chief that her plan to smoothly integrate me into Haven¡¯s society really isn¡¯t working.

    But, hey, it¡¯s only been two weeks¡­ Plenty of times for things to change.

    I think that, and then three younger looking men sit down on the bench on the other side of my table. Two of them have red eyes, and the other¡¯s are dark green. All three of them have short brownish-black hair, with the occasional dark red streak. They all look to be of similar age. On top of their otherwise plain off-white shirts and pants, they each have differing patches of leather and the occasional strip of metal covering their upper chests and shoulders as rudimentary armour.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Hi?¡±

    The red-eyed one sitting in the middle looks at the other red-eyed man to his left.

    ¡°See! I told you she could talk!¡± He half-whispers. The other red-eyed one glares back at him.

    ¡°Of course she can talk, you idiot. Why wouldn¡¯t she be able to talk?¡± He growls back, and the two start arguing.

    The green-eyed one sighs.

    ¡°Ignore those two. What I want to know is, winged-person, who are you, what are you, and where did you come from.¡± He asks, staring straight into my eyes.

    The red-eyed one in the middle stops arguing to turn and face green-eyes.

    ¡°Hey! You don¡¯t get to ask all the questions Max! That¡¯s not what we agreed on!¡± He shouts. ¡®Max¡¯ just sighs again.

    ¡°All you two are doing is arguing with each other. I want answers.¡± Max replies, without taking his eyes off me.

    Okay, if he wants answers, I¡¯ll answer as clearly as possible¡­

    ¡°My name is Marina Retali, I¡¯m an ordinary human now in the Underlands, and I came here by¡­ dying. Or to be more specific, I¡¯m from the Sovrana Republic.¡±

    The three of them now stare at me with a blank expression.

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t hear. What are you. Who are you. Where did you come from.¡± The red-eyed one on the outside replies.

    ¡°My name is Marina Retali, I¡¯m an ordinary human now in the Underlands, and I came here by dying, or to be more specific, I¡¯m from the Sovrana Republic.¡±

    More blank staring.

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t always have these wings. These turned up when I got here.¡±

    ¡°Oh, could they be¡­¡± The red-eyed one on the left starts.

    ¡°The Chief said they¡¯re a ¡®Gift¡¯, yes. That¡¯s the literal term for it. Gift.¡±

    ¡°And why are you so close to the Chief, Marina?¡± Max questions, crossing his arms.

    ¡°Why do you think, Max?¡±

    ¡°Because she¡¯s a slave.¡± Red-eyes on the left answers.

    ¡°She¡¯s a familiar taking a human form, duh!¡± Red-eyes in the middle interjects.

    ¡°N- Ghhh, you idiots¡­¡± Max sighs, rubbing his eyes.

    The two red-eyed ones start arguing with each other again. I just sigh lightly and hold my cheeks in my hands, leaning over the table.

    ¡°You three came here to start a conversation, yet none of you have actually told me your names yet¡­ not even you, Max.¡±

    The three stop what they¡¯re doing, exchange looks amongst themselves, then look back at me.

    ¡°I¡¯m Han.¡± ¡°Han¡± on the left says. Of the three, his red eyes are the brightest and sharpest, and his hair is mostly black with a single red streak. He wears a constant serious, dour expression, like he¡¯s judging everything he sees.

    ¡°Kazuma here.¡± ¡°Kazuma¡± in the middle responds, raising his hand. Fittingly for someone sitting in the middle, his red eyes aren¡¯t as bright as Han¡¯s, and his hair is blackish-brown with dark red fringes. Kazuma looks a lot more laid-back than Han or Max in his demeanour.

    ¡°Max¡­ but thanks to these two, you already knew that.¡± Max says. His eyes are a mellow dark green, and his hair is mostly brown with a few flecks of red.

    I smile.

    ¡°Good, that¡¯s a more acceptable way of starting a conversation. Sets us off on a better foot, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°You talk like my big sister¡­ no way you¡¯re fifteen.¡± Kazuma squints.

    ¡°I had a little brother and two older sisters. I have plenty of both experience and role models in how to be a good big sister.¡±

    The three of them exchange looks among themselves, occasionally shooting a look back at me as they fall silent. I know, I definitely don¡¯t look fifteen. I¡¯m a bit above average height for a woman around here, and definitely above average for a fifteen year old. A lot of people sneak looks at me, either in disbelief, or eyeing me up and down. The clothes Mia gave me are fairly plain, for the most part they match what the three seated across from me are wearing. Part of it is probably because I¡¯m the new ¡°woman¡± in town, who tells everyone she¡¯s fifteen when she really doesn¡¯t look it¡­ I mean, I had most of my growth spurt after I turned fifteen anyway.

    ¡°So¡­ did you have a reason for coming here other than discerning my humanity?¡±

    Han and Kazuma look at each other again, while Max crosses his arms and looks away.

    ¡°Well, if you really are just a normal person who sprouted wings, that takes away the fun of it¡­¡± Max says, sounding disappointed.

    ¡°Heh, slashed up Aran¡¯s face pretty good though. He shows off his scar like he fought a bloodbeast, thinking he¡¯s hot shit¡­¡± Kazuma chuckles.

    ¡°Actually, could you show us those wing swords of yours?¡± Han leans forward, staring at my shoulder.

    Hmm. Most people have cleared out of the tavern by now. It¡¯s just the waitstaff, two people sitting by themselves, and the three in front of me.

    ¡°If you really want to, I can, but don¡¯t try and touch them. They¡¯re¡­ touchy.¡±

    Alright wings, time to show off-

    Before I even get to finish my thought, my left wing shoots out from under the cloak, stretched to its full length with blades extended. The right wing stays put, sensibly, given to my right is the wall. See, wings, you¡¯re learning!

    The three seated across from me jump back, Kazuma nearly falling backwards off the bench. Max is the first to regain his composure, leaning forward as he stares at my outstretched wing.

    ¡°They really are¡­ big.¡± He comments. No shit.

    ¡°If you have wings, can¡¯t you just fly out of here?¡± Han says, tilting his head.

    ¡°I would if I knew how.¡±

    ¡°Have you tried?¡± Kazuma pipes up.

    I mean, I haven¡¯t. It¡¯s daunting to think about jumping from a high place and trying to fly, but¡­ A bird isn¡¯t born knowing how to fly, I suppose.

    ¡°Even if she could fly, this pit is hundreds of tals deep. Flying that far probably isn¡¯t easy, and that¡¯s before you take the carrion hawks into account¡­¡± Max sighs, seeming disappointed in how plausible his deductions sound.

    I can¡¯t imagine the physical effort it¡¯d take me, and my wings, to fly out of here. They¡¯ve lifted me off the ground once, and that was very brief before I came crashing back down. Humans are heavy, and I don¡¯t have the advantage of hollow bones¡­ I think. I hope. I don¡¯t want to find out.

    ¡°Wait, carrion hawks?¡±

    ¡°Giant birds bigger than humans with rotting flesh draped from their wings that eat anything that isn¡¯t a plant or rock. You¡¯d know it when you see it.¡± Max sits back up, crossing his arms.

    ¡°When you smell it, more like¡­¡± Kazuma grumbles.

    ¡°It smells like carrion, I take it?¡±

    ¡°Ugh, just thinking about it brings back the stench¡­¡± Han winces, trying to expel the pungent odour from his mind.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me¡­¡± Kazuma pinches his nose. Even I can smell it now.

    ¡­

    ¡°Why do we all smell carrion?¡±

    Max, Kazuma, and Han sit up, looking nervously amongst themselves. We all smell it. Rotten meat. Nobody¡¯s eaten meat for weeks, and Anton certainly wouldn¡¯t let meat go to waste.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way just talking about a carrion hawk means one would show up in Haven, right¡­?¡±

    Max grimaces. Kazuma looks down, his brow furrowed. Han looks directly across at me.

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a surprise.¡±

    It¡¯s obvious the smell has spread, as several of the kitchen staff are now by the front of the tavern, peering out the small windows, their faces contorted by the stench hanging in the air. The four of us move towards the door, crowding around behind the group gathered by the windows.

    ¡°Can you see anything?¡± Kazuma asks, trying to see through the window which Minegumo is looking out of.

    ¡°The guards and the Chief are outside keeping a watch on the skies. As for the stinky bird in question¡­¡± Minegumo trails off.

    I¡¯ve never seen anything that isn¡¯t a human down here, but in my short time outside the walls of Haven, I could tell that there were¡­ things. Down here. Big things. The names; Bloodbeasts. Bonehounds. Fleshtearers. Carrion hawks. I don¡¯t know what any of those are, but the names are¡­ evocative. It¡¯s not hard to imagine what a carrion hawk looks like; a big bird, savage claws, rotten flesh draped from its wings¡­

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    An ear-splitting screech drowns out whatever my thoughts just were. Something outside hits the ground so hard everything shakes, followed by a blast of wind that swings every window - and the door - of the tavern wide open. Now, where I¡¯m standing, I have a clear view through the door to what just landed outside.

    Two stocky, dirty feathered legs, each as long as I am tall, stand outside the tavern, held up by yellowy-grey bird feet with massive, vicious black talons piercing the earth beneath it. Several sickly, oozing wounds break up its dark, feathered legs; it¡¯s too tall to see its head, but I can see entrails, intestines, blood, rotten flesh hanging from its outstretched wings, the grisly trophies that mark the existence of its previous victims.

    Then the smell. It hits harder than the gust of wind; unmistakably rotten meat, yet so vile your body convulses, your nose flaring even as your throat seals itself shut to keep the stench out. You hunch over, feeling like you¡¯ve been punched square in the gut, fighting a sudden and violent gag reflex as the stench burns its existence into your memory, a smell so putrid it¡¯ll never truly leave you.

    Everyone else in the tavern is bent over or curled up, covering their nose, their mouth, or already throwing up on the floor. The only reason I¡¯m still standing is the scant few feet further back I stood from everyone else, leaving me just outside the lethal strike zone. Evenmy wings curl up against the small of my back, almost writhing in agony as if the smell in the air is singeing its feathers.

    ¡°You came to the wrong place looking for a meal, beast, unless you came here to die!¡± The Chief¡¯s unmistakable voice shouts from out of view.

    Large, familiar golden chains flash into being, rapidly constricting around the hawk¡¯s body as it lets out another screech, thrashing against its bonds as more people shout outside.

    ¡°Form a circle around it! Archers in front, spears behind! Stay clear of the head! Cut it down!¡± Vann orders, shouting loud and clear.

    About half a dozen people crowd around behind the oversized bird, driving spears into the back of its legs, drawing a louder, pained screech that hurts my ears more than those spears hurt the hawk. So loud and bloodcurdling this scream was, for a moment, you forget about the nauseating stench and frantically cover your ears before they burst. I cover mine with my elbows, wincing my eyes shut as if that¡¯ll help block out the sound too, before someone shoves me aside, falling to my knees.

    Someone shouts - it¡¯s muffled, so I uncover my ears;

    ¡°Aran?! The hell are you doing here?¡± One of the guys, Max, I think, calls.

    I look up. Aran is standing beside me, his eyes wide and tears running down his cheeks, as the terror on his face quickly turns to rage.

    ¡°The fuck are you three doing here?! You¡¯re part of the guard, why are you cowering in the tavern?!¡± Aran yells, his voice shaky and breathing ragged.

    Before any of the three cowering guardsmen can answer, my wings decide to make their presence known, flicking out from under the cloak and giving Aran a light push forwards, He spins to face me, turning his anger on me¡­ or perhaps specifically the wings responsible for his current facial features.

    ¡°The fuck do you want?! Not satisfied with cutting up just my face, huh?! Going to slash me again for cowardice?!¡± Aran screams, his face turning¡­ pale, despite his lividity.

    A drop of blood hits the ground in front of me. A huge, nasty slash runs up most of Aran¡¯s left arm, which he¡¯s been clutching this whole time. The others in the room see this, and the kitchen team jump to action, with Minegumo grabbing a cloth from a nearby table and starting to wrap it around Aran¡¯s arm, who leans back against a table, groaning in pain.

    First aid isn¡¯t my forte, so I move out of the way of the far more competent kitchen crew as they tend to Aran¡¯s wounds, crouching by the door to get a better view of what¡¯s happening outside.

    The giant bird¡¯s legs are awkwardly splayed apart, one held thrashing in mid-air as the Chief, wielding her staff and standing aways back from the hawk, focusing all her might on keeping the bird still. Several arrows are lodged in its neck and chest, while a small group with spears stabs at the bird¡¯s hinds, standing well clear of the partially freed leg, as golden chains buckle, shatter, then quickly reform, as the bird shrieks in anguish.

    ¡°Nathaniel! You¡¯re too close to the head, get back behind-¡± Vann barks.

    One of the spearmen, Nate, is a bit too far in front of the bird, trying to spear its neck. Evidently, he¡¯s doing something, as the bird¡¯s head rears back up, opening its beak to let out another screech-

    A muffled, drowned scream, and the sound of a large amount of fluid hitting the floor.

    Rather than screeching, the hawk bent its head over and unleashed a copious amount of reddish-brown vomit right on top of Nate. His scream is brief, as his body falls limp into a heap, sitting in a pool of vomit and partially-digested flesh. As the bile drains off his head, his face is just¡­ gone. His hair, his skin, even half of his skull, dissolved into viscous slop under the foul hawk¡¯s acid.

    He¡¯s¡­

    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± Han mumbles.

    Han, Max, and Kazuma are all crowded by the window. They all saw what I saw.

    He¡¯s dead. Nate¡¯s dead. I wasn¡¯t a fan of him, sure, but Nate¡¯s dead, dissolved body is lying in a puddle across the street from me. He died. He fucking died. Death is still very much on the table. And what am I doing? Standing here, doing nothing? Sure, no one inside the tavern has weapons. Aran dropped his spear outside the door. It¡¯s probably for the best that the rest of us stay here out of harm¡¯s way.

    Well, one of us has weapons.

    I toss my cloak on a table by the door. Given it¡¯s enchanted, I shouldn¡¯t risk it being dissolved and going to waste. Aran and the kitchen team are too preoccupied with Aran¡¯s wounds to notice. The trio beside me watch silently as I walk out, grabbing the spear Aran dropped in the doorway. Wings splayed, blades drawn.

    ¡°Will one of you kill this bird before it kills anyone else!¡± The Chief shouts, her voice clear but still mildly shaky from the scene we all just witnessed.

    New, larger golden chains, bulky and brutish compared to the previous thinner and expertly-woven chains, spawn and wrap around the bird¡¯s neck, dragging its head down closer to the ground, bile still oozing from its beak. The spearmen are in disarray, the archers¡¯ arrows are ineffective. Vann¡¯s keeping the bird¡¯s attention on him, holding his double-headed axe close and keeping the Chief a safe distance away as she channels through her staff; if it wasn¡¯t for her magic, we¡¯d probably all be dead by now.

    Only one person for the job.

    I ready myself to jump. Before I even mentally ask, my wings stretch out, high and wide, ready to launch us into the air. Flying is one thing, but jumping is another. All I need is a good push, and I can make it while the bird¡¯s distracted. Here goes.

    I jump.

    It¡¯s just like the last time. You blink, and you¡¯re way further off the ground than you expect. This time, though, I have intent, and a target. The bird¡¯s back, covered with festering, seeping wounds.

    I land with a thud, barely keeping my footing thanks to my wings keeping my balance. Despite the bird¡¯s size, its back feels bony and malnourished, with little of its own meat on its bones. It shrieks again, trying to rear its head up, but more chains materialise to keep its head down. Spear in hands, right through the nape.. One shot at this.

    I step forward, placing my foot firmly on the bird¡¯s neck, and drive my spear into the back of its neck as hard as I can.

    The spear easily splits the flesh, and penetrates into the bone, just, not deep enough to sever its spine completely, as the bird lets out an even louder, bloodcurdling screech, thrashing back upwards against me. Holding onto the spear with all my strength as it bucks upwards, then the heavy chains around its neck shatter, throwing its head back violently. My eyes are clenched shut, holding on for dear life as it rears upwards, then-

    It crashes back down to earth, falling into a lifeless heap.

    ¡°Marina!!¡± The Chief shouts.

    I open my eyes. My spear is firmly lodged in the back of the hawk¡¯s head. My wings are curled around my sides, its blades driven deep into the hawk¡¯s neck. So that¡¯s how I stayed on despite all its thrashing.

    The Chief and Vann stand in front of the bird, with the rest of the guards standing around behind them, looks of shock and bewilderment across their faces. People peek out of doorways or windows from the buildings around the bird¡¯s corpse, checking to see if it¡¯s finally over.

    ¡°Marina! Get down from there this instant!¡± The Chief shouts, angry and exasperated. Oh dear.

    My wing-blades retract themselves from the dead hawk¡¯s neck, letting go of the spear as I jump off the bird¡¯s back, walking towards the Chief. The Chief runs up to me, grabs my collar, and slaps me back and forth across the face.

    ¡°What in Turona¡¯s fiery Hells were you thinking!? You¡¯re not part of the guard! Vann was about to cut its head off, only for you to leap in and nearly get yourself killed! I¡¯ve already lost one townsman today, I can¡¯t tolerate losing another one immediately after!!¡± The Chief growls, although her anger quickly gives way to concern and shock, then, a tang of relief.

    She lets me go, sighing deeply.

    ¡°You saw what happened to Nathaniel. You saw. That¡¯s how easy it is to lose your life out here. That¡¯s how easy it is to die. One idiot makes one wrong move and they lose their life over it¡­¡± She scolds, but slowly trails off, her voice wavering as she takes another deep sigh, struggling to let go of the tension in her body.

    ¡°As reckless as it was, Mia, Marina took action and killed it. It would have taken me longer to get around behind it and climb on its back like she did, which was the only safe way of killing it. You might not have held it still long enough for me to do that.¡± Vann says, placing his hand on the Chief¡¯s shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

    The Chief heel-turns, swiping away Vann¡¯s hand.

    ¡°I could have held it for twice as long as you would have needed. My concentration nearly broke because of that winged idiot jumping on its back!¡± She hisses, clenching her staff tight in her hands.

    ¡°It¡¯s dead, Chief. It¡¯s over.¡± Vann sighs, glancing over at what¡¯s left of Nate.

    ¡°All that¡¯s left is to clean this up, and¡­ give Nathaniel a proper burial. I¡¯ll check on Aran, he got cut pretty badly when its leg broke free.¡± Vann turns to walk towards the tavern, giving me a pat on the shoulder as he walks past.

    ¡°Good job, kid. You¡¯re showing your worth.¡± He says, then disappears through the tavern door.

    The Chief, meanwhile, is standing in front of the bird, but staring down at the pool of half-digested flesh and bone that¡¯s all that¡¯s left of Nate. A small crowd has gathered around the bird, just, several metres back to avoid the smell getting any worse, looking to their Chief for guidance. After a moment, having noticed the crowd that¡¯s gathered, she straightens herself up.

    ¡°Chief, why did that carrion hawk show up here? We¡¯ve no meat that¡¯d draw it to our remote village¡­¡± An older woman with orange-brown hair asks, with a young girl with bright orange hair, no older than 10, clinging to her leg and hiding her face against her skirt, not wanting to see or smell what¡¯s in front of her.

    ¡°Likely, this hawk was old, Giselle. Past its prime, desperately hungry and looking for an easy meal. We¡¯re closer to the bottom of the food chain here. It must have thought humans were an easier target than fighting another hawk for the scraps off a corpse.¡± The Chief replies, her even, slightly harsh tone of voice returning.

    Giselle¡­ Giselle? That¡¯s the soup cook whose shift I took.

    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna eat that¡­¡± The little girl mumbles, peeking from behind Giselle¡¯s skirt with her bright red eyes.

    ¡°Oohh, we¡¯d never feed you that, Sammy. Soon, we¡¯ll have far tastier meats for all of us to enjoy together~¡± Tiff says, having suddenly appeared beside me.

    Even the Chief was startled at Tiff¡¯s sudden appearance, shooting her a scornful look.

    ¡°The hell are you doing here?! Why aren¡¯t you guarding the rest of the kids?!¡± The Chief hisses in an annoyed whisper directed at Tiff.

    ¡°Rann¡¯s keeping the children safe, and there¡¯s a body to deal with. That¡¯s part of my job, Mia.¡± Tiff responds calmly, kneeling down in front of Nate¡¯s remains.

    The small group of guards gather around behind the Chief. I recognise most of their faces, but the only name I know is Rob¡¯s, standing tall and silent behind them, spear in hand.

    ¡°Your, uh¡­ orders, Chief.¡± One of them asks.

    The Chief turns, looking like she¡¯ll blow up again, before sighing to herself.

    ¡°Move the hawk¡¯s corpse to the cellar. Its meat is too disease-ridden to eat, and well¡­ does it have anything of use, Tiff?¡± The Chief replies, then turning to ask Tiff her question.

    Tiff, now standing by and looking over the corpse, turns to give her answer.

    ¡°At most, we could get some quills out of it. It¡¯s too sickly and skinny to do anything else with it. Probably best to burn it¡­¡± Tiff sighs, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the best usage be crushing the bones to use as fertiliser??¡±

    Tiff blinks, looking at me like she didn¡¯t understand a word I just said.

    ¡°Crush its bones to use as¡­ what?¡± She asks quizzically.

    ¡°It¡¯s uh¡­ it¡¯s something the farmers around Sovrana do. Sovrana¡¯s been settled and farmed for a long time, and the soil was very poor for farming. Some herbalists or something figured out that crushing bones into powder and mixing it with the soil could increase fertility.¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­ I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Still, it¡¯s best we burn the corpse quickly and pick the bones out after. The smell is already nauseating enough, I don¡¯t want to find out what the actual rotting corpse of a carrion hawk smells like.¡± Tiff responds, looking at the bird¡¯s corpse with a renewed interest in how its bones could be used.

    The Chief glances across at me.

    ¡°For a girl from a family of luthiers, you seem to know a lot about farming.¡± She states, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

    ¡°I¡­ I read a lot of books, okay. If some of the otherwise pointless knowledge I gleaned from them can be of some use, then I¡¯ll try to use it.¡±

    ¡°Normally, someone in your position would immediately ask to take its head for a trophy, but if that¡¯s how you want it to be used, then very well¡­¡± She trails off, before turning and facing the crowd.

    ¡°Alright. Guards, get some rope and drag the hawk to the Cellars. Tiff¡­ take care of Nathaniel¡¯s body. The rest of you, back to work.¡± The Chief orders, and the crowd complies.

    Aran staggers out of the tavern door, his left arm covered in bandages as Vann leaves alongside him to help the guards move the hawk¡¯s body, with Max and Kazuma sheepishly following behind Vann, the two of them clearly having gotten an earful for not being at their posts when the hawk attacked; yet Han isn¡¯t with them. A couple of people bring buckets over to Tiff, tipping water over the pool of acid to help dilute it enough that Nate¡¯s remains can be retrieved, as things start to settle back into normal. Every nose in sight is wrinkled or flared, as everyone silently agrees to pretend that they can¡¯t smell the hideous stench that must be permeating the entirety of Haven by now.

    ¡°Hey.¡± Someone behind me says.

    I turn to find Aran standing in front of me, handing me back my cloak.

    ¡°Thanks for taking my post.¡± He manages a smile as best he can through the searing pain shooting up his clutched, wounded arm.

    ¡°Marina.¡± The Chief calls.

    I turn to face her, as she hands me a cloth from her cloak¡¯s deep pocket.

    ¡°Wipe that muck off your wings before you go trailing blood along my nice floors.¡± She says bluntly.

    My wings cling low to my sides, understandably not wanting to draw the Chief¡¯s ire to themselves after watching me get slapped around her.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll go wash them¡­¡± I turn, heading for the direction of the baths, before the Chief stops me.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She says, softer.

    ¡°Ah, it was the least I could-¡±

    She clips me over the back of the head before I finish my sentence.

    ¡°And don¡¯t do that again.¡± She scolds, heading back towards her library.

    Okay, point taken.

    I take one last look at the hawk¡¯s body before the guards start to drag it off.

    It¡¯s massive. So massive it looks like it could carry away a full-grown human with ease. It nearly cut Aran¡¯s arm off with its claw, and it turned Nate into a pile of mush in seconds. Were it not for the Chief and the guards, it could have wreaked havoc and killed dozens of people here.

    And I killed it- ow.

    A soft jab to my side reminds me that yes, wings, we killed it. It was a team effort. Hell, we nearly flew too!

    My wings flitter excitedly, flicking the blood still clinging to its blades onto my legs and- hey! You¡¯re making a mess here!

    We still have a ways to go in earning people¡¯s trust, but¡­

    We¡¯ve definitely gone some of the way today.

    It¡¯s onwards and upwards for us.

 Chapter Eleven

    It¡¯s raining.

    The earthy, metallic smell of the Abyss¡¯ rain is, for once, a welcome reprieve, slowly washing away the pungency of the hawk¡¯s corpse that hung like a curse over Haven for the past few days.

    Nate¡¯s funeral was yesterday. Almost the whole village took part in it, so for the first time, I saw nearly every face of Haven in one place. The kitchen staff, the farmers, the two dozen or so children from the schoolhouse. As best I could count, a bit over 50 people were present.

    I never really got the chance to know Nate. I saw him when I first arrived, but after that, our paths rarely crossed. He always seemed to be on the other side of town, or the other side of the tavern, or the other side of the street.

    If anything, he kinda came off as an asshole.

    But people cried. Han cried. He was inconsolable; to Han, Nate was the older brother he never had.

    Nate¡¯s remains were cremated on a pyre in the shadow of the Crystalfall, and his ashes washed downstream, past the bathing pools and disappearing down into the labyrinthine caves of the Cellars. Although the rain is erasing the carrion hawk¡¯s stench, it only darkens the cloud of despondency that has come to lay upon Haven since Nate¡¯s passing.

    But what can I, the odd one out, do to lift people¡¯s spirits? A couple people thanked me for slaying the hawk and avenging Nate, but some seem even less trusting of me, which¡­ I can¡¯t blame them for; I nearly decapitated a giant bird with nothing but a spear and my wings. I probably looked terrifying. Maybe as monstrous as that bird.

    There¡¯s nothing I can do besides sitting here, watching the fireplace crackle in the Chief¡¯s library, waiting for orders. Or a request. Or, anything really, given the Chief has been standing by the window, staring out of it for the past hour.

    ¡°Uh, Chie-¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She cuts me off before I can even get a word out. Eep.

    ¡°Is¡­ everything alright? Normally you¡¯d have a task for me-¡±

    ¡°I do, but someone isn¡¯t here yet.¡± She cuts me off again.

    The silence hangs for a moment, before she sighs, leaning against the wall.

    ¡°Morale was already low before you got here, and it¡¯s been declining day by day. The hawk attack and Nathaniel¡¯s death has brought morale down to a critical level. Something has to be done about it¡­ Ah.¡± The Chief perks up, spotting someone through the window, and then storming downstairs, grumbling out loud.

    ¡­ Should I follow her down? She just left without saying anything directly to me- Ah. She¡¯s coming back up. With Rann? Wait¡­

    ¡°Rann!¡±

    ¡°Hawk-slayer.¡± Rann responds.

    ¡°Ah, you were told..?¡±

    Rann walks over, taking a seat across from me and resting his large, flat-tipped greatsword against the side of his chair, while the Chief sits in her lounge chair, crossing her arms and legs and side-eyeing Rann.

    ¡°You certainly took your time.¡± She grumbles.

    ¡°Yes. I had to take a side route to get back safely.¡± Rann answers, scratching his chin. ¡°A Bloodbeast has staked his territory not too far out from Haven. A young one too. Fit, and in his prime.¡±

    The Chief turns to look at Rann, a mix of shock and annoyment on her face.

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± She starts; ¡°Surely, I don¡¯t have to remind you how dangerous the top predator of the Abyss is, especially a young one on freshly claimed territory in its prime.¡±

    Rann leans forward in his chair.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what I didn¡¯t tell the gate guards. It¡¯s barely half a day¡¯s walk from Haven. Sooner or later, it¡¯s going to wander too close to town, pick up the scent, and we¡¯ll have a much larger problem on our hands.¡± Rann says.

    The Chief slumps back into her chair, rubbing her temples and groaning.

    ¡°Tell me you have some good news, Rann¡­¡± She sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

    ¡°It¡¯s got a limp. Tells me that this one clearly lost a fight elsewhere, and had to claim an area unfit for its appetite. It¡¯s wounded and currently, reclusive. If we want to get the most out of it, we strike sooner, not later.¡± Rann turns to look at me.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be a hunt. Me and the expedition team. And you¡¯re coming along, Marina.¡± He says.

    ¡°I¡­ I am?¡±

    ¡°I was told you flew through the air and struck with such force you nearly decapitated a carrion hawk. All while screaming.¡± Rann raises an eyebrow slightly.

    ¡°It was more of an assisted jump than flying, and I definitely was not screaming¡­¡±

    ¡°You screamed a bit, Marina. It¡¯s probably necessary when doing something as dangerously stupid as that.¡± The Chief shoots me a look.

    ¡°Okay, but¡­ is this where I ask what exactly is a bloodbeast? I¡¯ve heard it mentioned a few times, but I don¡¯t know what to expect other than¡­ a very bloody beast?¡±

    Rann chuckles; that dry, rocks-tumbling-around-in-a-metal-tray chuckle.

    ¡°You know what a bear is, yes?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°Big, fuzzy, huge paws, look cute from a distance but they¡¯ll rip you in half if you get close..¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ never found them cute, but, a bloodbeast is like a bear, only twice as big at least, covered in blood-red fur, and strong enough to knock a house over.¡± She answers.

    ¡°I think they¡¯re cute.¡± Rann grins. The Chief glares at him.

    ¡°... Alright, next question; what or who actually is the¡­ expedition team?¡±

    ¡°The people that found you, Marina. Eight members of Haven that venture beyond the palisade under my leadership to hunt and gather resources not found inside Haven. You stumbled into our camp as we were making our way back after an unsuccessful hunt.¡±

    ¡°Is it¡­ a punishment to be on the expedition team?¡±

    ¡°Most see it as an honour. Many would jump at the opportunity to join a Bloodbeast hunt. Permanent members are established by unanimous votes from the council. Temporary members, like you, only need the Chief and I¡¯s approval.¡± Rann chuckles to himself.

    ¡°Approval I have yet to give, Rann¡­¡± The Chief says, a slight growl in her voice as she crosses her arms.

    ¡°Have the people of Haven ever hunted a Bloodbeast before?¡±

    ¡°Three times in its history. All three occasions suffered numerous losses of life and left many lifelong injuries.¡± She answers, rubbing the bridge of her nose. ¡°But this occasion¡­ may be necessary. There are no books on hunting a bloodbeast, however, and the previous ventures¡ªthe last of which was several decades ago¡ªleft no notes on the matter.¡±

    ¡°You said it yourself, Chief. It¡¯s a bear. I¡¯ve hunted bears before. Last time I did an inventory of the armoury, we have two bear spears we can use.¡± Rann says.

    ¡°Two what spears? I know of no such things in the armoury¡¯s inventory.¡± The Chief interjects.

    Rann raises an eyebrow slightly.

    ¡°Surely, our illustrious and highly educated noble Chief, you recognised the long, heavy wooden shafts topped with large, leaf-shaped iron tips as bear spears; spears made for the sole task of stopping a bear in its tracks?¡± He questions, with a sincere tone but a slight, self-satisfied grin.

    ¡°Forgive this sheltered, pampered noble child for not knowing what makes an otherwise ordinary spear a ¡°bear spear¡±. If you have a plan, Rann, now is the time to share it.¡± The Chief sighs.

    For someone with such a gruff, serious look and a gravelly voice, Rann seems to enjoy teasing the other council members when no one else is around.

    The Chief, meanwhile, has made clear that she doesn¡¯t like this situation, but it seems we have little choice but to act before things get worse.

    ¡°I lead the expedition team, along with Marina, out on a hunt. We track it down, find it, corner it. Lure it into the open. I get its attention; I¡¯ll have the first bear spear. We¡¯ll have nets and bows. Once we¡¯ve got it held in place, preferably with my spear down its throat, Marina strikes from above, jumping on its back and driving a spear through the back of its head. Two spears through the brain will kill anything fast enough.¡± Rann lays out his plan, leaning back in his chair.

    I- I¡¯ll be what? I¡¯ll be what? I¡¯ll be striking from above? Landing on a giant killer bear? The thought of it is making me shake. Even my wings have crept out from their cloak and are shaking by my sides.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ so you¡¯re keeping everyone but yourself at a safe distance until the Bloodbeast¡¯s held down, then you and Marina will finish it off in one fell swoop?¡± The Chief ponders this for a moment. ¡°Sounds simple. Too simple.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this about me jumping on and killing a bear¡­?¡± I mumble to myself.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be carried out over several days, setting everything up. I followed it back to its lair and watched it for two days; it didn¡¯t leave, and it likely still hasn¡¯t left. I¡¯d be putting myself in the most danger; I wouldn¡¯t ask anyone to do what I wouldn¡¯t.¡± Rann crosses his arms.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re not underestimating the amount of danger you¡¯re putting yourself in, Rann, but your plan hinges on a fluke. If one rope tears, if one spear doesn¡¯t find its mark, it may be the end for all of you. If it¡¯ll inevitably wander towards Haven, it¡¯d be safer to plan a defence with the expedition team, the town guard, and myself. Walking into its own lair is too great a risk to too many lives.¡± The Chief shoots back.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t the fluke me managing to jump on and kill the bear..?¡± I mutter, which apparently no-one hears.

    ¡°If we let it wander near town, it¡¯ll destroy everything in its path, leaving the route to Haven open, to anything, and anyone.¡± Rann narrows his gaze. ¡°That isn¡¯t an option.¡±

    ¡°When you asked if you could ¡°borrow¡± Marina for expeditions, I was expecting her first venture beyond the walls to be a trek to the sweet-tree grove, or hunting Jackhorns, not taking on the largest beast in the Abyss! Yes, she helped kill the carrion hawk, but there¡¯s a massive jump from fighting a pinned-down carrion hawk to taking on a bloodbeast!¡± The Chief gestures towards me while looking at Rann.

    ¡°I uh, don¡¯t have a lot of confidence in managing a jump like that so soon¡­¡±

    Rann looks at me, gesturing to my wings.

    ¡°Your wings seem plenty confident.¡± He points out.

    Wait, I thought my wings were shaking because of how nerve wracking the idea of jumping on the back of a giant killer bear is, not¡­ are you jittering with excitement?! No- don¡¯t flap like you¡¯re nodding your head! What, have you figured out the secret of flight already?!

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    As I tussle with my overly excitable wings, Rann chuckles to himself, looking back at the Chief.

    ¡°She¡¯s proven herself capable enough with a spear. I¡¯m not dragging her into open combat; all she¡¯ll be doing is striking the finishing blow. I¡¯m not about to put your prized errand girl in harm¡¯s way.¡± He lets out another chuckle.

    The Chief allows herself one more quiet sigh, before relenting.

    ¡°I¡¯ll allow you to carry out this hunt if you answer one more question. Once you kill the bloodbeast, as you say you will, how exactly are you hauling it back to Haven?¡± She asks.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have a sled, and eight fit bodies to pull it.¡± Rann answers.

    The Chief glances across at me.

    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re going hunting, Marina.¡± She smiles, but I wouldn¡¯t call it a comforting smile. Her smile quickly fades as she turns back to Rann.

    ¡°Actually, I have one condition. Bring Han along.¡± The Chief says, taking a more serious tone. ¡°Hiding in the dorm house staring at Nathaniel¡¯s empty bed all day isn¡¯t doing him any good.¡±

    Rann leans back, pondering.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I¡¯ll try. He¡¯s a good eye with a bow, from what Vann¡¯s told me. For now, I¡¯ll go prepare the sled and equipment we need. Marina, go check on Han for me. He might be more open to listening to the girl who avenged Nate¡¯s death.¡± Rann stands up, grabbing his sword and hefting it over his back, heading towards the stairs.

    ¡°Wait, what am I supposed to say to Han? Do I just tell him he¡¯s coming with us?¡±

    ¡°You can.¡± Rann shrugs, heading down the stairs and leaving the Chief¡¯s library.

    The Chief gets up, looking across at me.

    ¡°Just see how he¡¯s going. Don¡¯t push him too hard, but he needs a change of pace to get out of the slump he¡¯s in.¡± She says.

    I turn to head out to do the task assigned to me, only for the Chief to clear her throat to get my attention. I stop, turning back to look at her as we both listen to Rann leave.

    ¡°He¡¯s lying.¡± She sighs to herself, rubbing her forehead.

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°About how close this bloodbeast is. It¡¯s likely much further away than a half day¡¯s march, and certainly not close enough to pose a serious threat to Haven.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± Right. The Chief is a soulseer. She can read someone¡¯s emotions and intentions, she can see when someone is lying. Rann, obviously, must know this as well. ¡°But why would he lie to you when we both know you can see right through that?¡±

    ¡°He was spinning the story to tell the rest of Haven.¡± She answers. ¡°You heard me before. Morale is dangerously low. A horrific beast assaulted Haven itself, killed one of us, and continues to assault us with its lingering stench which refuses to dissipate. People need to feel safe to be happy, to be productive. This isn¡¯t a state of affairs I can afford to tolerate as Haven¡¯s Chief. Something has to be done.¡±

    ¡°And what Rann found might just be that something?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly¡­ something. It¡¯s dangerous, almost foolhardy, but he wouldn¡¯t suggest it if he wasn¡¯t confident it could be done.¡±

    ¡°Are you¡­ confident I can do my part in it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She curtly answers. ¡°Which is why I¡¯ll need to see some evidence of your ability. As much as I miss the taste of meat, I¡¯m not approving of this mission until I¡¯m more certain it will succeed.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea what a ¡°bloodbeast¡± even tastes like¡­?¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t, but that¡¯s beside the point. It¡¯s not so much the meat, tallow, fur, or bones that we stand to gain, but the act of the hunt itself. The bloodbeast is the top of the food chain in the Abyss. People don¡¯t need to know that it¡¯s young, or that it¡¯s already wounded. It¡¯s a predatory monster, and proving we can kill one will assuage people¡¯s fear for our safety.¡±

    ¡°So why did he tell you and me the lie if you knew what he really meant?¡±

    ¡°He was testing the story. The only issue I found was the plan itself. Once that¡¯s proven to me, I have no further issue with it. I do mean to get Han out of here for a bit to hopefully clear his head, but bringing someone who isn¡¯t a usual part of the expedition team will help spread the story. That a beast is threatening Haven, but we¡¯ll set out and defeat it before it gets any closer.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡­ also trust me with keeping the story straight?¡±

    She gives me a sideways glance. ¡°You¡¯re capable of keeping secrets. I can trust you that far.¡±

    ¡°An enchanted cloak certainly helps hide things¡­¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about your wings.¡± She clarifies, looking directly at me. The constant, slight shifts of her gold-and-silver eyes are something I¡¯ve noticed she does whenever she looks straight at someone. As a soulseer, she must see more than just their face. I don¡¯t know how deep into my thoughts and feelings she can perceive, but¡­

    There¡¯s definitely something she¡¯s noticed in me that she¡¯s left unmentioned. Something that¡­ I apparently can¡¯t hide from her, no matter how hard I try.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Marina.¡± She sighs softly, relaxing her shoulders and looking across at the fireplace. ¡°We all have things we keep to ourselves. I won¡¯t pry.¡±

    ¡°It must be bothersome, being able to see those things people keep to themselves.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing specific.¡± She waves off my concern. ¡°Just the pointer that there is something they want to keep hidden. Besides, I believe you were asked to go check on Han.¡±

    I nod, turning to head down the stairs once again.

    ¡­

    Alright.

    Just talk to him, see how he¡¯s going, ask if he wants to come hunt a giant murder bear.

    On paper it¡¯s easy, but here I am, having spent the last five minutes awkwardly standing outside the two-story dorm house, psyching myself up to go talk to the guy who just watched his mentor die right in front of him. Right.

    ¡°You have faced many challenges, but one such as this is where you falter?¡± A familiar voice says, breaking my focus.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to comfort someone in situations like this, okay? Nor asking them if they want to risk their life doing the same thing that got their friend killed¡­¡±

    ¡°You showed great courage, child. Courage is inspiring to others.¡±

    ¡°It was more a heat of the moment decision, but if you say so¡­¡±

    I turn to stare directly at the hooded old man, sitting on the bench and smiling up at me.

    ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d turn up, after you disappeared last time.¡±

    ¡°You were lost, child. I simply showed you a way forward.¡±

    ¡°The way forward to Haven, it seems. I don¡¯t suppose you live here, too?¡±

    ¡°You are much more at home here than I ever could be.¡± His smile fades, looking wistfully down the street, towards the Crystalfall.

    ¡°Any presents this time, or are you simply offering your counsel?¡±

    The old man smiles knowingly.

    ¡°You have all you need, child. There is nothing I could give you that you do not already have.¡±

    Yeah, the evasive answer I was expecting. Actually, now that I¡¯m meeting him inside town, can anyone else see him here? I look up and down the street - empty - and as I turn to look back at the old man,

    ¡°Yep. He¡¯s gone.¡± I sigh.

    If he didn¡¯t give me this physical, tangible cloak that others have touched, I¡¯d be convinced he was a figment of my imagination.

    Oh well. I¡¯ll go in, get this done with.

    I enter the dorm house; internally it¡¯s one large room with a few tables and chairs, but otherwise it¡¯s wall to wall with beds.

    One bed, right in the corner, has someone curled up on it, facing the wall. If there¡¯s only one person in here, then that¡¯s probably Han.

    I quietly make my way over, sitting down on the bed across from Hans. He doesn¡¯t respond, or even notice my presence. Gods, how do I start this¡­

    My left wing slips out from under the cloak, slowly reaching over to try and touch- hey don¡¯t you do that!

    As I swat my wing for trying to touch or¡­ maybe tickle Han¡¯s back, he stirs, rolling over enough to look at me with one eye.

    ¡°Marina¡­?¡± He mumbles, before sitting up and looking straight at me.

    ¡°Ah, hi, Han¡­ how¡¯re you¡­ holding up?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m alive, Nate¡¯s dead¡­ Just like he told me, one day, he¡¯d die down here¡­ I never thought it¡¯d be this soon.¡± He shrugs despondently.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry for your loss.¡±

    ¡°I sobbed like a child¡­ you saw, everyone saw.¡± Han chuckles, in an obvious self-deprecating tone.

    ¡°That¡¯s a pretty normal response to losing someone important to you. No one would look down on you for it.¡±

    ¡°Hah..¡± Han scoffs. ¡°My father would have beaten me severely for that public outburst of emotion-¡±

    ¡°But your father¡¯s not here, is he?¡±

    Han blinks as I cut him off.

    ¡°N¡­ no¡­?¡± He stammers out.

    ¡°So screw what he thinks. You¡¯re dead. I¡¯m dead. Who cares what the living think?¡±

    Han stares at me like I¡¯ve said something nonsensical.

    ¡°You sure take the fact that we¡¯re in hell in stride, huh¡­¡± He says, staring at me quizzically.

    ¡°Honestly, the fact that we¡¯re in hell is the least of my concerns¡±

    Yes, wings, you¡¯re one of my bigger concerns. Stop trying to touch everything in reach before you knock something over.

    ¡°I assume you wanted something with me, then.¡± Han asks.

    ¡°Am I not allowed to come and check on you out of concern and my own goodwill?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t buy that for a second.¡± Han stares back at me.

    Shit, he saw straight through it. Guess I¡¯ll just go straight to the truth¡­

    ¡°Rann found a young and wounded bloodbeast half a day¡¯s walk from Haven. He wants both you and I to join the expedition team, hunt the bloodbeast, and bring it back to Haven.¡±

    ¡°The captain of the expedition team wants me to join him for a hunt?¡± Han repeats.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± He follows.

    ¡°He said something about you being a good archer, and that we¡¯ll need those?¡±

    Han goes quiet, looking down at his hands in his lap.

    Yeah, I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d just take that.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± He says, looking up at me excitedly.

    ¡°You will?¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding me? You¡¯re asking me to join a hunt! Everybody who¡¯s not already on the expedition team dreams of going on a hunt! Seeing the world beyond the walls of Haven! Even if it¡¯s only a half day¡¯s walk, any chance to get out of town is one you take the moment you see it!¡± Han¡¯s so excited he almost jumps out of bed at me.

    ¡°But, didn¡¯t we all start outside Haven¡¯s walls¡­?¡±

    ¡°I was five. I don¡¯t remember any of that. Besides, we¡¯re going out to do something, not aimlessly wander and get lost.¡± Han scoffs a little.

    Five? Five. Fuck, how did he survive out there?

    ¡°When do we leave? I can gather my things right now. I¡¯ll grab my bow from the armoury, and help pack supplies, and-¡± Han starts prattling off everything he¡¯ll bring and everything he¡¯ll do.

    ¡°Uhh, tomorrow, I think. I¡¯ll go find Rann and ask when he plans on leaving, you just¡­ err¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll come with you. He¡¯s probably in the armoury checking things himself, and you likely haven¡¯t been told where the armoury is.¡± Han gets up out of bed, fixing his ruffled shirt.

    ¡°I slept in a room behind the armoury.¡±

    ¡°Ah-¡± Han stops in his tracks, his confidence shattered by my bullet of truth.

    When he¡¯s so earnest like this, he reminds me of my little brother, in a way. Oh well, if he really wants to come¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to stop you from coming if you want to. I want to see how big this bear spear I¡¯m supposed to wield is¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be bringing a bear spear?¡± He asks.

    ¡°Yes. Apparently, I¡¯m supposed to jump on the bloodbeast¡¯s back once you, Rann and the others pin it so I can deliver the killing blow.¡±

    ¡°... It was nice knowing you, Marina.¡± Han nods solemnly.

    This little- one moment he¡¯s mourning someone¡¯s death, then the next he¡¯s joking about mine?

    ¡°If you want to come then hurry up, or I¡¯ll leave you here to wallow in your misery.¡± I call back over my shoulder, heading towards the door.

    ¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯m coming! And-¡± I hear Han clamber out of bed, running to catch up to me.

    ¡°And?¡± I turn back to look at him.

    ¡°Thanks, Marina.¡± He smiles.

    Since when are teenage boys this earnest? They¡¯re supposed to be older than me, yet I feel like the older sibling here.

    ¡°You can thank me once we make it back to Haven alive, Han. Even with Rann¡¯s assurances, this still feels like a suicide mission.¡±

    ¡°For you, maybe. I¡¯ll be at a safe distance with bow in hand.¡± Han shrugs.

    ¡°Can you show even a little concern for me? I¡¯ve been more-or-less forced into this role.¡±

    ¡°You flew through the air and nearly cut off that hawk¡¯s head in one blow. You¡¯re doing the same with the Bloodbeast. Your job¡¯s the easy part.¡± Han raises an eyebrow, like me being concerned over this makes me weird.

    Well¡­ my job is to spear the back of the bear¡¯s neck when it¡¯s pinned and distracted by everybody else, and it¡¯ll already have a spear in its mouth and all its attention focused on Rann. Jumping on top of it and driving a spear through its neck isn¡¯t too hard, I guess. I¡¯m attacking it from an angle where it doesn¡¯t have teeth or claws. I hope.

    Besides, if the spear alone isn¡¯t enough, you¡¯ll help finish the job, won¡¯t you, wings?

    My wings give a shiver, clinking their metallic blade-feathers together in affirmation. You can just rub my neck or something to say yes, wings. Don¡¯t do¡­ that. That sounds weird. Anyway.

    Let¡¯s just hope things go as planned.

 Chapter Twelve

    The plan for the hunt has been finalised.

    Rann, Arshak, Arshiya, Johnny, Einar, and Rob of the expedition team, along with Han and myself, will set out to hunt down, slay, and bring back the bloodbeast, Haven¡¯s first hunt in nearly six moons.

    The eight of us will head out at sunrise tomorrow. We¡¯ll have three day¡¯s provisions, nets, weapons, and tarps loaded onto a large sled. The bloodbeast¡¯s lair is half a day¡¯s trek from Haven, but it¡¯ll take a full day to set up a safe distance from it and scope out the area. Arshak and Arshiya will range ahead to make sure the bloodbeast is still in its lair, while the rest of us bring up the supplies on the sled.

    If the bloodbeast is still there, we¡¯ll lay snares outside its den, and Ran will coax it out and hopefully, it¡¯ll get caught up. Rann will keep its attention while Johnny and Rob throw nets and bolas and jab at its hind legs, and the twins, Han, and Einar hit its face and neck with arrows. Rann will try and drive his spear into the bloodbeast''s mouth to pin it, while I¡­

    Emerge from hiding on top of its cave, jump onto its back and drive my spear through its neck, killing it.

    Now, yes, I have done this before. I didn¡¯t even jump from a high place, I just leapt across the street.

    It¡¯s just¡­ my first time was with a gangly-looking bird with its own guts hanging out. It wasn¡¯t exactly¡­ tenacious.

    This time, my target¡¯s a bear. A giant bear. A bear that¡¯s apparently as big as a house. Normally such a term is an over-exaggeration, but I won¡¯t take my chances down here.

    But!

    If we''re successful, we¡¯d have enough fur to make cloaks for the entire village, and enough meat to last a whole year. If. That¡¯s a pretty huge if, but¡­ I¡¯ve been promised the finest cut of meat from the bloodbeast if I kill it. I don¡¯t know how bloodbeast or even bear tastes, but what I do know is that, gods, I miss meat. I was never a picky eater and I¡¯m fine with the mostly vegetable and grain-based dishes here, even if they are a bit rough, but¡­

    I really miss meat. Like, a lot. Like, enough that I¡¯m willing to go on this hunt and probably risk my life for it.

    The hunt will start tomorrow, though. Today is for training.

    Which is why I¡¯m standing on the roof of the armoury, sharpened stick in hand, being egged on by half a dozen people (that is, Rann, Johnny, Einar, the Chief, and Arshak and Arshiya) to jump off and drive my sharpened stick through a sack full of sand on the ground.

    Behind the armoury is a roughly triangle-shaped cleared area used for training, with cliffs on one side and buildings on all others. I¡¯d walked past it a few times taking the shortcut from Main Street to Crystal Road, seeing the guards or expedition team members training and sparring. Of course, whenever I had any training, it was always tucked behind the Chief¡¯s residence getting a one-on-one beating by Rann or Vann.

    Still, they are private lessons given to me by Haven¡¯s best fighters, even if it was mostly me getting kicked around, bruised, and eating dirt. Sure, it¡¯s improved my swordfighting and my coordination with my wings, but I feel that¡¯s less my appreciation of the art of the sword, and more my desire to not get bruises all over my arms and having to clean my only shirt again.

    But my pain is not what people care about. All they know is that I get private lessons from the best fighters in town, and that¡¯s the cause of some jealousy.

    Gh¡­ up here, I feel more of the wind as it brushes over my wings. It¡¯s only a few metres up, but I could never even dive into a pool from the ground level, and they want me to jump off a roof¡­?

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Feathers! You killed a carrion hawk, what¡¯s one lousy sack of sand to ya?¡± Johnny calls.

    ¡°Jump, girl. The mud¡¯s soft.¡± Einar states, staring straight into my eyes like he always does.

    ¡°Are you certain this is the best way to go about this, Rann¡­?¡± The Chief sighs.

    ¡°She had jumped on that carrion hawk without a problem. Don¡¯t see how this is any different.¡± Rann shrugs.

    ¡°This is very different! That was jumping on something! This is jumping off something!¡±

    ¡°Just make sure you land on your feet and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Rann calls back.

    Easy for him to say when he¡¯s not the one being told to jump off a building!

    My wings remain partly outstretched and resting around my waist, constantly twitching and probably feeling some of the nervous energy I¡¯m giving off¡­ or maybe, they¡¯re entirely independently nervous. I assume you feel pain too, wings, and I don¡¯t want to crash into the ground¡­

    ¡°How much longer are you going to take? Do we even need her, Rann? She¡¯s shaking like a leaf!¡± Arshak groans, as Arshiya stands quietly beside him, looking up at me.

    ¡°We do, Arshak. One spear through a bloodbeast¡¯s head likely won¡¯t be enough to kill it outright.¡± Rann responds.

    I¡¯m really the lynchpin, aren¡¯t I? Well, if I do make this jump, then that means we can hunt, and if we do hunt, then maybe, I¡¯ll finally get to savour some meat¡­

    Alright. Wings, let¡¯s do this.

    Responding to my thoughts, they stretch out to their full length and lift up, ready to launch us skyward. Now, we don¡¯t need to jump all that high, what¡¯s more important is that we control our descent-

    Before I can finish my thought, my wings decide it¡¯s go time and now I¡¯m hanging in the air with everyone gawking up at me. I¡¯m really high up. The highest I¡¯ve been. I can see well over the roofs of some of the buildings around us; a few people walking along the main street notice me, awkwardly hanging in the air above the buildings. I¡¯d give them a wave if I wasn¡¯t holding a spear.

    But that brief moment of flight vanishes, and now I¡¯m hurtling towards the ground, holding my spear the wrong way around, aiming nowhere near my target.

    Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit SHIT!

    As I rapidly descend, my wings flap helplessly trying and failing to slow us down, but I at least get my balance back just enough to ensure that I don¡¯t faceplant on the ground¡ª

    And instead, very nearly crash-land, flat on my shins in the mud.

    The sympathetic groans of pain upon witnessing my unglamorous fall capture but a fraction of just how much that hurt. My hands slip partway down the wooden spear, very nearly digging splinters into my flesh. The impact on my knees makes my whole body buck forwards, as my wings shudder stiffly, as if feeling an echo of the pain shoot through my body.

    At least, I didn¡¯t land on my face. Using the spear, I manage to stand back up, shaky as I am, my shins throbbing in pain as I hobble back towards the ladder leading to the armoury¡¯s roof.

    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s going back up.¡± The Chief says, mildly impressed.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t land on her face. That¡¯s something.¡± Rann shrugs.

    I get back up on the edge of the roof, looking down over the yard and clutching the spear close, my wings drawn close to my sides.

    ¡°Make sure you land away from us! I don¡¯t wanna be in the splash zone, ya hear?¡± Johnny says, taking a step back to ensure he won¡¯t get dirty.

    Suppressing the urge to jump straight at Johnny this time, I sigh, taking a step towards the edge.

    Now. Wings.

    We go when I say we go, okay? We both have to be ready for this. When I jump, you flap. Just like with the carrion hawk. Okay?

    Good.

    One, two, and¡­

    I jump off the ledge, soaring into the air as my wings launch me upwards. Eyes on target, and dive straight down- up? Why am I going up and down?

    Rather than diving, my wings keep flapping, trying to keep me in the air, bouncing up and down as my arms and legs helplessly wiggle about, completely unable to keep my balance in mid-air.

    ¡°DOWN! I said! Not up and down! Down! We go up and then we go down¡ªah.¡±

    Heeding my complaints, my wings cease flapping and fold upwards, sending me hurtling straight down, barely managing to land on my hands and knees with a splash into the mud, getting it all over my front.

    ¡°Marina!! In Turona¡¯s name, Rann, this is not going to work!¡± The Chief yells, turning to glare at Rann rather than helping me back up.

    ¡°A two-pronged attack is the only way we¡¯re going to kill it, Chief. We take it down, or we try to lure it away from Haven. There¡¯s no way to go about this that won¡¯t risk lives.¡± Rann argues.

    ¡°Well. I¡¯ll be. You actually flew, Feathers.¡± Johnny comments.

    ¡°I mean¡­ I guess she flew. Looked more like she was struggling mid-air.¡± Arshak says, disbelief and confusion in his voice.

    Ugh. Come on. We¡¯ve done this before, wings, and we¡¯re going to do it again. Properly. You¡¯re not the one getting covered in muck here.

    I get back on my feet, wiping the mud off my sleeves and picking the spear back up, before jumping up to the roof to give this a third shot.

    When I turn to face the yard again, everyone¡¯s now looking up at me with surprise; even the Chief and Rann went quiet mid-argument.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You jumped onto the roof, Marina.¡± Rann says, sounding a little bewildered.

    I did? I¡­ Oh. I didn¡¯t use the ladder. I just¡­ jumped up.

    Thanks, wings. See! That! We just need to do that, but rather than going from a low place to a high place, we go from a high place to a low place!

    I mean, I can say that, but going down is different from going up. Plus, I need to go down stable enough that I can strike as I land. If I can just¡­ visualise what I need to do.

    ¡°¡®Ey. Feathers.¡± Johnny says.

    ¡°I have a name, you know.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, your name¡¯s Feathers. Ever seen a hawk in action?¡± He responds, shrugging off my complaint.

    ¡°What, like the carrion hawk?¡±

    ¡°No, an actual hawk, not those overgrown vultures. Buddy of mine back up top was a falconer, worked with all sortsa birds for the local mayor. Birds of prey always dive feet-first onto whatever they¡¯re aiming at. You¡¯re too focused on hitting the sack and not focused enough on landing on ya feet.¡± He explains.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I could see the correlation.¡± The Chief ponders, her hand on her chin.

    Dive feet first? But I strike with my spear, so if I focus on landing with my feet apart, spread my wings out to control my descent, while aiming the spear downwards¡­ like it¡¯s a talon¡­ Ooooh.

    ¡°Yeah, something like that. Give that a shot.¡± Johnny gives a confident thumbs up as I work out my posture.

    Are you getting this, wings? I¡¯m picturing it in my mind as best I can if you, uh¡­ can see what I¡¯m picturing in my mind.

    My wings spread out to their full length, splaying out to make as large a surface area as they can - yes, like that! The larger the surface area, the more controlled and slowly we go down, if you, uh¡­ understand the concept of surface area. You get the idea, anyway. If you do that, then I can focus on landing on my feet, and landing my strike.

    Right. Round three. Third time¡¯s the charm.

    With a leap and a flap, I¡¯m up in the air. Upon reaching the zenith, my wings spread out, tilted back slightly to steady my descent. Looking down, I¡¯m probably¡­ no, I¡¯m five and a half metres up. I know where I want my feet to land, and where my spear will strike. Take a deep breath¡­

    Within a second, I¡¯m on the ground, landing hard on my feet, my spear embedded in the sandbag.

    ¡°Ayy! Just like that, Feathers!¡± Johnny yells, coming up to pat me on my shoulder.

    ¡°Well, maybe, this might just work. However, I won¡¯t fully clear this unless Marina can do that another two times or so. I won¡¯t sign off on a fluke. So, Marina-... err¡­ Marina?¡± The Chief starts, before noticing the state I¡¯m in.

    I collapse to my knees, my whole body shaking as I cling to the spear as the only thing keeping me upright.

    ¡°I think she landed too hard on her feet, Chief.¡± Rann sighs, walking over to stand beside me. ¡°Let¡¯s get her off her knees and onto the bench, Johnny.¡±

    Johnny and Rann lean down either side of me, hooking an arm over their shoulders and getting me back on my feet, and, in turn, my wings drape themselves over their shoulders as if they need to be carried too. My legs feel like jelly beneath me, so they more or less carry me to the bench against the armoury¡¯s back wall.

    ¡°Gods, Feathers, you¡¯re heavier than you look¡­¡± Johnny grunts, setting me down on the bench with my wings awkwardly resting against the wall. ¡°Chief! Any magic you can whizz up to fix her legs?¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°What she needs is a couple hours off her feet. She hasn¡¯t broken anything.¡± The Chief sighs, walking past us and calling out behind her. ¡°I still want to see her do that again before you leave tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°... So no magic?¡± Johnny calls.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a healer! She¡¯ll be fine, anyway!¡± The Chief yells back, before disappearing onto the main street.

    ¡°Tomorrow, huh? So does that mean we are going on this hunt?¡± Johnny turns to Rann.

    ¡°It would seem so. Means we need to get everything ready, John.¡± Rann answers. ¡°Einar, go and fetch Han to help pack. Twins, you two keep an eye on Marina for us.¡±

    ¡°What!? Why do-¡° Arshak starts to complain, before a look from Rann shuts him up.

    Okay. I guess that¡¯s what¡¯s happening. I¡¯ll just stay here until I can move my legs again¡­

    Arshiya sits down on the bench beside me, looking at me, or¡­ rather, my wings, with her usual mysterious, unreadable gaze.

    ¡°Arshak.¡± Arshiya says, after staring at me for a while.

    ¡°What?¡± Arshak grumbles, mumbling to himself annoyedly as he paces around the mud.

    ¡°What kind of wings do you think Marina has?¡± She asks.

    ¡°What kind of¡­ what?¡± Arshak stops pacing around, turning to look at me. ¡°I don¡¯t know, just, they¡¯re wings. Human wings? Humans don¡¯t normally have wings.¡±

    ¡°I think they¡¯re eagle wings. Like the silver eagles that nest by the coast.¡± Arshiya goes to touch them, before stopping. ¡°Can I touch them?¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­ knock yourself out.¡±

    She reaches out, tracing her finger along one of the outer feathers, from root to tip. It tickles a little.

    ¡°Eagles don¡¯t have red feathers, Arshiya. Besides, look at how much the pinions stick out. They¡¯re more like vulture wings.¡± Arshak steps closer, leaning down to get a better look at my wings.

    ¡°Vulture feathers are rough. Marina¡¯s feathers are smooth.¡± Arshiya says back, running her fingers along the lower edge of my wings. My wings shiver slightly, stretching out a little before settling back down.

    ¡°All birds have rough feathers and smooth feathers, Arshiya, it¡¯s the shape that makes the difference. They¡¯re not curved like a falcon or kite, so they could be¡­¡± Arshak pauses for a moment, pondering.

    I haven¡¯t really thought of what kind of bird my wings look like they¡¯re from. I mean, there were no sentient winged races in the Overlands, so I never thought of what wings would look like on a person. Sure, there¡¯s images of winged angels, but those are like¡­ fluffy. Soft. Predominantly white. Not these rough, sharp, and dark red sheets of feathers I have stuck to my back- Ow! Don¡¯t jab me in the shoulder for stating the truth!

    ¡°Did you just jab yourself with your wing?¡± Arshak asks, furrowing his brow.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t jab myself. These things have¡­ a mind of their own, and I mean that literally. They only do what I ask half the time that I ask them, and they keep incessantly trying to touch everything when they¡¯re not in my cloak.¡±

    As if to prove my point, my left wing lifts up, trying to reach out to touch Arshak¡¯s face with its outermost feather.

    ¡°That¡­ explains why it¡¯s trying to poke my face?¡± He says, taking a step back.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I answer, pushing my left wing down with my hand, making the right repeatedly scuffle against my shoulder in protest.

    ¡°That sure seems like a hassle.¡± He says, a mote of sympathy in his voice.

    ¡°It is.¡±

    Arshiya, as if struck by a burst of inspiration, suddenly jumps to her feet, wheeling about to stand in front of me.

    ¡°Marina! Could you stretch your wings out, and up?¡± Arshiya asks excitedly, motioning her arms outwards and upwards.

    Managing to sit up properly, my wings stretch outwards, then upwards, fully spreading out their pinion feathers, partially uncovering the otherwise hidden blade-feathers. Even sitting down, my wings stretched up like this nearly reaches the roof.

    Arshiya¡¯s beaming ear to ear; the most expressive I¡¯ve ever seen her before. Arshak just crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°They¡¯re just like gryphon wings. As tall and proud as they are, at least.¡± He says.

    ¡°Are you saying you¡¯ve actually seen a gryphon before? In person? Not just in a book or on a flag?¡±

    Arshak sighs, but smiles, as Arshiya nods excitedly.

    ¡°We¡¯re from Samarkal, although you probably know it as the Spice Isles. All sorts of things passed through the Gates of Gold as trade between east and west, north and south. One day, a tamed gryphon was brought onto the island, and although we were young, we got a close look at it, and Arshiya even pet it. Ever since then, she¡¯s been obsessed with anything and everything that has wings.¡± He explains, as Arshiya happily hums to herself.

    ¡°You saw a gryphon? For real?!¡±

    ¡°Yes! It was so big and it was soft and powerful but so gentle and calm¡­¡± Arshiya says, her monotone voice turning excited and giggly.

    ¡°My father had a quill made from a brown gryphon¡¯s feather. He used it nearly every day, but it never wore down or lost its lustre. I always wanted to see a real one up close¡­¡±

    ¡°The one I saw had a coat of bright white with black stripes, and feathers that shone like gold in the sunlight. It had an aura of pride and nobility that I could never forget!¡± She smiles, recalling the mighty beast she saw as clearly as if it were still standing before her.

    ¡°Did it strut around like it owned the place, preening from the attention it knew it so rightfully deserved?¡± I get up onto my feet, strutting around with my wings held high and proud in a perfect imitation of how gryphons walk.

    ¡°It strode about like every cobblestone was laid just for it to walk upon.¡± She giggled.

    ¡°Well. Marina seems to have recovered quickly.¡± The Chief comments, standing beside Arshak.

    ¡°Yes. They started talking about birds. And gryphons.¡± Arshak groans.

    ¡°I noticed the resemblance between the wings of a gryphon and the wings upon Marina¡¯s back when I first saw them, yes. I suppose it makes sense; since both creatures are normally incapable of flight, and don¡¯t function like the common bird does.¡± The Chief says.

    ¡°Pff¡­ did you just call Marina a ¡®creature¡¯?¡± Arshak stifles his laugh as best he can.

    ¡°You¡¯re hearing things. Marina, if you¡¯re back on your feet already then I expect you to be up on that roof. I want to be certain that the last attempt wasn¡¯t a fluke.¡± The Chief brushes off Arshak¡¯s question, walking back out into the courtyard and resuming her previous position.

    ¡°A-Ah, Chief, right, uhm¡­ right.¡±

    I don¡¯t know how long she was standing there but I hope she didn¡¯t see me strutting around like an idiot.

    But, gushing over how cool gryphons are with Arshiya replenished my energy a bit. I always wanted to see one in person, and with how the twins described it, the illustrations in my books clearly didn¡¯t do the magnificent beast enough justice. I grab the sharpened stick still embedded in the sack, heading back towards the armoury, and effortlessly jumping up onto the roof with a powerful flap of my wings¡ª

    ¡ªBut not quite making it, and having to awkwardly grab the edge and climb up onto the roof as my wings flap unhelpfully.

    The Chief looks up at me, unimpressed and slightly worried, but I just need to stick the landing. Being able to jump up to the roof is a bonus.

    With a clear picture in mind, the second jump goes smoothly.

    Up into the air, then striking down perfectly on target, plunging my spear straight down through the hole I made earlier, punching through the sack and burying the tip in the mud beneath it. I bend my legs to absorb the shock of hitting the ground, landing squarely on my feet.

    ¡°Well, you did what I told you to do. I suppose that¡¯s that¡­¡± The Chief sighs.

    ¡°You¡­ don¡¯t sound happy about this, Chief.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m not. We lost Nathaniel just last week, and Rann wants to go charging off to fight the biggest and most dangerous beast in the entire Abyss. Yes, it¡¯s too close to Haven for comfort. Yes, we haven¡¯t had meat for months. If all goes well, we¡¯ll have enough meat to feed everyone steak dinners for a month and enough fur to make cloaks for everyone. If it doesn¡¯t¡­¡± She stops, taking a moment to recollect herself. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to lose yet more lives.¡±

    ¡°I trust Marina.¡± Arshiya says, standing beside me as I pull the spear from the sack.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about trust, Arshiya. It¡¯s risk. If it gets too risky¡­¡± The Chief looks down, holding her arm, trying to quell the worries in her.

    ¡°If it gets too risky, we¡¯ll turn around and head back. If the bloodbeast¡¯s moved on, that¡¯s the best possible scenario. It¡¯s a gamble, but I won¡¯t needlessly risk lives, Chief.¡± Rann says, walking back into the training yard.

    Rann carries two spears with him over his shoulder; each longer than he is tall, with a large, bay leaf-shaped spear head and a small metal crosspiece just below it; presumably, the bear spears. Beside Rann walks a woman I haven¡¯t seen before.

    What immediately hits me is her straw-blonde hair, tied back into a long braid that goes down to the small of her back, and her pale silver eyes framed by her prominent black eyelashes. Were it not for her slightly pointed ears and her white pupils, you wouldn¡¯t think she¡¯s from the Abyss. She wears a dark brown leather apron over long pants and a sleeveless shirt, and her front¡¯s covered in soot. Maybe it¡¯s her sleeveless shirt, but her arms look more toned and muscular than any other woman in town. Despite her stark appearance from the rest of Haven, her blank, unassuming expression is yet another oddity about her.

    ¡°You know that¡¯s far easier said than done, Rann. Anything can happen here. All it takes is one wrong move, and none of you may come back.¡± The Chief lifts her gaze to look up at Rann, her brow furrowed.

    ¡°So long as no one makes any mistakes, they¡¯ll be fine. There isn¡¯t anything wrong with my equipment.¡± The woman says, crossing her arms. Her voice has a slight accent, sounding like those that hailed from the far northern reaches of the Overlands; even further north than the Chief¡¯s home of Drachenkoenig, certainly.

    The Chief lets out a huff of annoyance, turning to glare at the other woman.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t questioning the quality of the equipment, Ingrid. Nor do I recall you taking ownership of them.¡± The Chief¡¯s tone is rather openly hostile, not that ¡®Ingrid¡¯ seems to mind or care.

    ¡°Every piece of metal in this village, from the nails in the buildings to the pans in the kitchen has been manufactured or maintained by me. I never gave them to anyone. I just let them borrow them.¡± Ingrid responds bluntly. The Chief goes to angrily respond back, before Rann interjects.

    ¡°Ingrid was interested in seeing Marina. They haven¡¯t met yet, and¡­¡± Rann says, before¡ª

    ¡°I¡¯m here to make sure she knows the right end of a spear and can be trusted with one.¡± Ingrid cuts him off. Rann just sighs.

    ¡°Speaking of. You.¡± Ingrid turns to stare directly at me, walking up to me.

    ¡°Me-¡±

    I barely get a word out before Ingrid abruptly grabs the upper edge of my wing, feeling along it as the wing splays its feathers out and uncovers its blade-feathers in a confused manner.

    Ingrid taps one of these blade-feathers with her fingers, each tap sounding out a soft metallic ting.

    ¡°Hmm. Light. Flexible. Sharp. Would likely shatter if it struck something hard, though. Too thin to parry heavy blows. I¡¯d forge something thrice as strong with this much metal. Take these off, and I can- ah.¡±

    Ingrid goes to pull the blade-feathers out, only to find them quite firmly - and painfully attached to the roots of my wing. She lets go, letting me turn around to face her, my wings still recovering from the apparent shock of being grabbed so nonchalantly.

    ¡°Th-that¡­ I can¡¯t¡­ They don¡¯t come off, you know!...¡±

    ¡°Huh. So you forged them to your wings? That takes some strength of will.¡± She responds thoughtfully.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ I woke up here with these wings. They came with the sword-feather-things.¡±

    Ingrid looks down at my wing, then back up at me.

    ¡°Your wings came with swords?¡± She says, looking both shocked and amazed.

    ¡°People don¡¯t usually come with wings in the first place¡­¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re quite done, Ingrid¡­¡± The Chief sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

    ¡°Right. Rann, the spear.¡± Ingrid holds her hand up.

    Rann sighs softly, handing Ingrid one of the two oversized spears, which she then hands towards me.

    I take it from her hand-

    ¡°Wwhaat the hell this thing is ten times heavier than the stick I was using!..¡±

    I have to grab it with both hands to be able to hold it up properly. The shaft of the spear is made of what I assume to be some kind of local wood, as it¡¯s near-black and hard (and almost as heavy) as stone to the touch.

    ¡°It¡¯s made of strong wood and stronger steel, made for hunting beasts of great size. It needs that strength if you¡¯re going on a suicide mission.¡± Ingrid states.

    ¡°Sorry, hunting a bloodbeast.¡± She clarifies after Rann lets out an audible sigh.

    ¡°Even you think it¡¯s a suicide mission?¡±

    ¡°The only successful bloodbeast hunt I¡¯ve seen was carried out with far better equipment than what this sorry little hovel has on hand, despite my best efforts.¡± Ingrid crosses her arms, further emphasising her disinterest in her surroundings.

    ¡°Sorry little¡­ if this village that has stood for nearly a hundred years as the only safe refuge in all of the Abyss isn¡¯t to your liking, then I can kick you back out into the mud we found you in!¡± The Chief raises her voice as her anger is provoked, glaring across at Ingrid, who just shrugs indifferently in response.

    ¡°Both of you¡­ gods, this is why we keep you two on opposite ends of town.¡± Rann sighs tiredly, as if he¡¯s dealt with this exact scenario a hundred times before.

    ¡°If you¡¯re quite done here, you can go back to your smithy before you start trying to pull Marina¡¯s wings off. She¡¯s proven to Rann and I that she¡¯s perfectly capable of using a spear properly.¡± The Chief huffs, turning her nose up a little.

    ¡°She was practising with a stick. I want to see it with the real spear. If she can hold it that long.¡± Ingrid shoots back, her flat voice starting to waver as her tolerance towards the Chief starts to dry up.

    ¡°Should I get back up on the roof..?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Ingrid answers.

    ¡°No!!¡± shouts the Chief, bewildered that I¡¯d even considered Ingrid¡¯s idea.

    ¡°A-ah¡­ uh¡­¡± Who do I go with¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to veto that. She¡¯s been striking a sack, not a blood beast. If she dived onto the sack with the spear, she¡¯d likely break it, and we don¡¯t have an easy way of replacing it.¡± Rann speaks up, stepping between Ingrid and the Chief before they start arguing again.

    ¡°Break? I didn¡¯t spend all day using precious spare metal to reinforce those spears just for them to snap in the hands of-¡± Ingrid starts, before-

    ¡°Ingrid.¡± Rann cuts her off, and she stops talking, looking a little flustered. ¡°Go grab the spear from that sack, would you.¡±

    Ingrid nods, walking over to the sack, still impaled with my comparatively flimsy wooden spear. She goes to pull it out with one hand¡­

    And finds she can¡¯t. So, she uses both hands.

    And still can¡¯t. Slightly annoyed, she puts one foot on the sack for leverage, pulling on the spear with all her strength - only for it to snap, nearly making her fall over backwards.

    ¡°See my point?¡± Rann asks. Ingrid just sighs, throwing the broken stick to the ground.

    ¡°I see. If no one else needs me, I¡¯ll go back to my smithy.¡± Ingrid turns to leave the courtyard the same way she came.

    The Chief quietly watches Ingrid leave, arms crossed, before turning to look at Rann.

    ¡°I have my own matters to attend to as well. I trust I can leave the rest of preparations to you, Rann.¡± She says. Rann nods, and she turns to take her leave.

    Now it¡¯s just me, Rann, and the twins in the courtyard. An awkward silence hangs.

    ¡°Gotten used to the spear¡¯s weight, Marina?¡± Rann asks, breaking the silence.

    ¡°I¡­ yeah. It feels more manageable now.¡±

    I¡¯d almost forgotten how heavy it was, but now that I¡¯m more used to it it feels more manageable. Thankfully, it¡¯s very well weighted; enough that I can balance it in one hand.

    ¡°Is anyone going to mention what just happened..? Y¡¯know¡­ all that?¡± Arshak says, gesturing broadly to what just happened.

    ¡°That was my mistake. Those two are like oil and water. They¡¯ve never gotten along, and part of me fears they never will.¡± Rann sighs, leaning against his spear.

    ¡°So¡­ Ingrid is Haven¡¯s blacksmith?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and a damn good one. She¡¯s been here for five years now, and rightfully takes pride in her work. It¡¯s just she¡¯s a bit¡­¡± Rann trails off.

    ¡°Abrasive.¡± Arshak chimes in.

    ¡°Something like that. And the Chief¡¯s¡­¡± he trails off again.

    ¡°Temperamental.¡± Arshak chimes in again.

    ¡°Yeah. You see the problem here.¡± Rann nods.

    Oil and water definitely describes how those two don¡¯t mix, for sure. I look up, and the constant grey-red glow of the sky has darkened considerably since I last thought of the time.

    ¡°So uh¡­ what now? I didn¡¯t realise how late in the evening it was.¡±

    ¡°You.¡± Rann looks me up and down. ¡°Need a bath. And your clothes washed.¡±

    Looking down at myself, my shins are caked in mud, and my shirt has dark brown stains all over it. Good point.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take your spear and load it with the sled. Go wash yourself up.¡± I hand him my spear, lifting it up to carry it over his shoulder.

    ¡°Come on, you two. Few more things on the sled, then we can have dinner.¡± Rann turns towards the main road, with Arshak and Arshiya following along behind him, leaving me alone in the courtyard.

    Man.

    I really wish I had more than one shirt.

 Chapter Thirteen

    Being sent off by the whole town was certainly a spectacle.

    Rann, Arshak, Arshiya, Rob, Johnny, Einar, Han and I; all eight of us making up the hunting party had gathered by the gates before dawn, but that didn¡¯t stop everyone waking up (or, being woken up) to see us off.

    While the expressions on the townspeoples¡¯ faces I saw weren¡¯t the same sorrowful and downtrodden looks on the day of the funeral, they weren¡¯t necessarily happy ones. Some had big smiles, others looked worried or even doubtful. Word had spread of our quarry, of the mighty Bloodbeast that was barely half a day¡¯s walk from town. Of the fur and meat it could provide; enough to feed the whole village for a month and get everyone a nice new cloak on top of it. Although their thoughts and opinions on the matter were varied, they all carried the same feeling within them.

    Hope.

    I¡¯ve been here for¡­ somewhere between three weeks to a month. In that time I¡¯ve gotten to know the leaders of Haven, run countless errands for them, get covered in mud dozens of times and then have to wash it out of my only set of clothes dozens of times, and made a pretty decent minestrone. I also killed a giant stinky bird-thing, although not before it had killed someone else.

    Still, I¡¯ve been here a month at most. I¡¯ve sort of settled in, but, in some regards some members went out of their way to make me feel comfortable. I¡¯m new, I¡¯m an adult, I happen to have wings with swords in them, and I¡¯ve started to get the hang of using them. Treating me well is just¡­ common sense. While several people can and have beaten me in a fight, and I have nothing to really counter the Chief¡¯s magic, I do have an ability they don¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t go as far to suggest that the only reason Rann even proposed this hunt was because of me being here, but, it¡¯s not impossible. I bring to the table skills and assets that no one else has. And well, because of that¡­

    I¡¯m treated differently. Probably not¡­ specially, but differently. I have my own room in the Chief¡¯s residence. Most people my nominal age of 15 still live in the bunkhouse, along with all the younger children. Rooms are in short supply, and houses even shorter. Each of the five council members have their own home, while the owners of the various businesses such as the baker, tailors, and the tanner live above or beside their workplaces. Now, sure, living with the Chief is a dream for some people, and a nightmare for others. I¡¯ve heard the murmurs. Having lived it, it has its pros and cons, sure.

    But my memories of the life I had before here are still fresh in my mind. The smiles of my family. The warmth and comfort of my bed. Something as simple as a blue sky. I still taste the honeyed chicken my mother cooked the day before¡­ I came here. Everyone else has been here for years. Decades, even. Han was five when he came here. He probably barely has any memories of his life before he died. Others may have lived here for so long that all but the simplest, strongest memories remain, lost to the entropy of time. Everyone was torn away from their friends and families, and dumped in a cruel, unjust, permanently overcast world. How long has it been since anyone here saw a clear sky?

    Hell, I like overcast days. I prefer them to sunny days. But even the clouds here are different. Dark. Oppressive. Hanging heavy like a thick blanket, smothering the lands in their suffocating greyness. There¡¯s no pleasant smell of grass after it rains and the sky clears and everything glistens in the sunlight. All that remains after it rains in the abyss is a heavy, iron-rich smell, a blood-red sheen on the roofs, and puddles of reddish-brown mud that never fully dry up. I loved when it rained. Every time it rains here, all I smell is blood. It always tries to drag me back to that moment. Laying in a ditch, looking up at the starless sky and waiting to die.

    Maybe what makes this place hell is how it twists, corrupts, and turns the things you used to like against you.

    ¡°Ay. Feathers.¡± Johnny says.

    ¡°Wh- ah¡­ yes?¡±

    ¡°Quit daydreaming and start pulling. We¡¯re on sled duty.¡± He says, handing me a length of coarse braided rope attached to the sled behind us.

    Right. The sled. The large, heavy wooden sled made out of solid black wood, currently laden with nets, traps, and weapons that is apparently big enough to load this bloodbeast onto.

    Ugh. I wasn¡¯t looking forward to this, but, it¡¯s my¡­ oh. A slight tug at the ropes, and the sled easily slides forward behind me. Johnny puts his foot back to stop it from running into the back of us.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s lighter than it looks. We¡¯re lucky we¡¯re first. Means we won¡¯t be pullin¡¯ it when the bloodbeast is loaded on it.¡± Johnny sighs, taking up his side of the rope.

    ¡°Ah, so we¡¯re heading off now¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Rann answers, patting my shoulder as he walks past.

    Rann and Rob move in front of Johnny and I, standing in front of the palisade gates, while Arshak, Arshiya, Einar and Han move in behind the sled. Silence hangs for a moment, before a voice calls and the gates begin to move with a creak, sliding behind the walls as they¡¯re pulled along their wheels by three people on each side.

    ¡°The gates¡­ slide open? They don¡¯t open outwards?¡±

    ¡°The Chief¡¯s handiwork. Makes ¡®em easier to move and sturdier too.¡± Johnny responds.

    ¡°Expedition team.¡± Rann calls, and everyone stands to attention, so I go along with it.

    He turns to look back at us, taking a deep breath¡­ and then simply nodding his head towards the world beyond the town walls.

    With that, the expedition team sets off, as the crowd behind us cheers and calls for good luck.

    The sled is indeed lighter than it looks, sliding through the muddy earth with ease. The hard part is trying to keep control of it so it doesn¡¯t crash into the back of my legs.

    As the last of us moved through the gates, they began to creak and slide shut, and the clamour of the village behind us quickly faded into the distance; until the only sound was of boots squelching through the mud.

    Occasionally, the four people behind the sled would murmur amongst themselves, too quietly for me to hear. Rann and Rob in front of us stayed silent, keeping their eyes forward as they led us along the hidden road that led to Haven.

    ¡°So. Rann. Where exactly is this bloodbeast of yours hidin¡¯? It¡¯s gonna be harder to move around luggin¡¯ this giant sled here.¡± Johnny asks.

    ¡°It¡¯s lurking in a cave to the southeast. Once we reach the seeping wound, we¡¯ll follow it upstream and come round behind the cave. We¡¯ll set up camp, then set our traps, and strike in the morning.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°Up the seepin¡¯ wound¡­? Falian¡¯s brass balls¡­¡± Johnny sighs.

    ¡°The seeping wound¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a stream that runs downhill from the south. We call it the seepin¡¯ wound because the water¡¯s red and sticky like blood seepin¡¯ from an open wound.¡± Johnny answers.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll know it when ya see it.¡± He sighs.

    ¡°Right.¡±

    I mean¡­ blood seeping from an open wound? That¡¯s almost distressingly easy to imagine.

    After this exchange, we continued marching in mostly silence.

    I don¡¯t know how I would have made it on my own out here.

    Everywhere I look, it feels like it¡¯s the same twisted, gnarled trees with dark red leaves, looming over me and leering with mocking faces carved in their bark, forming a thick, almost impassable forest on all sides of the path. Black rocks and pebbles lay scattered across the ground, most half-buried in the endless sea of mud that carpets this whole godsdamned place. At least it makes it easier to pull the sled.

    Which I¡¯ve been doing for¡­ maybe three hours now? The scenery hasn¡¯t changed much. The path we¡¯ve been following, narrow as it is, is mostly hidden by the thick trees either side of it. As far as I know, this is the main route to Haven, which is supposedly hidden from the other inhabitants of the Abyss, so it makes sense that the road itself is hidden. Still, I swear it feels like we¡¯re going in circles¡­

    Until the group comes to a halt.

    The thick line of trees breaks and gives way to a small clearing; a crossroads of sorts. Numerous trails run off in different directions, and a stream of dark, blood-red water runs through the middle, coming down from a gentle uphill slope.

    ¡°Seeping wound, huh.¡±

    ¡°Told ya.¡± Johnny quips.

    Looking up along the stream, the slope is pretty mild, but it just runs on and on up into the distance. No vegetation grows along the stream¡¯s edge, it¡¯s just lined with black rocks stained red by the filthy water.

    ¡°We head up along the seeping wound until just before the stonefields. We head east from there, we¡¯ll reach behind the bloodbeast¡¯s cave safely.¡± Rann turns to address the group.

    ¡°All the way to the stonefields¡­? You said half a day¡¯s march, Rann¡­¡± Rob sighs, shouldering the heavy polearm he¡¯s been carrying.

    ¡°It¡¯s half a day to get there. It¡¯s a full day to get there safely.¡± Rann responds. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    With a groan of compliance, the group starts moving again, turning to head up along beside the stream. This route is wider than the path we were just on, but the fact that we¡¯re now pulling it uphill along a very slippery slope means it¡¯s taking a bit more effort to keep the sled moving.

    ¡°How long are we on sled duty, Johnny¡­?¡±

    ¡°However long Rann decides we are, Feathers.¡± Johnny grunts.

    ¡°Half a day. We¡¯ve only been walking three hours.¡± Rann chimes in from the front.

    Walking behind Rann and Rob¡­ they¡¯re both just¡­ big. Rann, with his giant flat-tipped greatsword, and a red creature¡¯s pelt draped across his square shoulders. His arms and his legs are thick with muscle, and he¡¯s the second tallest man here. The one who is the tallest is Rob beside him. Rob isn¡¯t as stocky as Rann, but he¡¯s nearly head-and-shoulders taller than Rann, who in turn is head-and-shoulders taller than me. He carries a long, sturdy polearm with a long, sharp head like a glaive. It looks nearly as big as the goddamn bear spears loaded on the sled. Rob¡¯s weapon is simple in its design, though. Rann¡¯s sword has something different about it.

    It looks old. The leather of its grip is old and worn, fraying around the edges. Many scratches line the dirt embedded along its length, but the blade¡¯s edge shines with vicious sharpness. Its crossguard is a simple steel bar, and the pommel is just an iron ring, with a short length of chain hanging from it. It¡¯d be an ordinary sword, if not for the flat tip. Only an executioner¡¯s blade has a flat tip, normally. Perhaps that is what it was. Along the blade¡¯s fuller, some form of letters or runes are carved into it and inlaid with faded gold. Executioners seemed to like writing things on their swords, so it¡¯s probably something about death or deliverance or¡­ whatever executioners like to write on their tools.

    ¡°Yeah, I could never figure out what¡¯s written on his sword. No one can.¡± Johnny says, noticing what I was staring at.

    ¡°Does it matter what it says?¡± Rann calls behind him.

    ¡°It could be cursed! It could belong to some terrible Daemon!¡± Johnny raises his voice to make a point of his concern.

    ¡°If it belonged to a Daemon then they¡¯ve had plenty of time to come and get it. The sword has been in the armoury since before I was here.¡± Rann grunts.

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about daemons as if they actually exist¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cos they are- oooooh.¡± Johnny, making some realisation, comes to a halt, and the rest of the party stops with him.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Right. You never went to school here, Marina. Nor has the Chief told you.¡± Rann turns to look at me¡­ no, everyone¡¯s looking at me.

    ¡°There aren¡¯t actually¡­ daemons, right¡­ horns, leathery wings, evil and all that¡­¡±

    ¡°That, Feathers, is either a Draaf or an Azore. Daemons come in every size, shape and colour.¡± Johnny answers.

    ¡°Some Azores have feathered wings! The Chief taught us that!¡± Arshak calls from behind the sled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll believe that Azores have feathers when one lands in front of me!¡± Johnny yells back, insulted at the idea that these Azores could have feathers.

    ¡°Get a move on. We¡¯re burning what little daylight this muddy hole gives us.¡± Rann orders, and the party begins moving again, and silence hangs for a moment.

    ¡°While we¡¯re moving, we can bring Marina up to speed. You three young ones up the back, you can join in too.¡± Rann calls back, which is met with a loud groan from Arshak.

    ¡°What is a Daemon?¡± Rann asks.

    ¡°Uh¡­ inhabitants of the Underlands?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re the Damned, Marina. There are Daemons, but most people are either Damned, or the natives of this world called Denizens. Can you provide an answer, Han?¡± Rann says.

    ¡°A Daemon is a being of great power and authority over a single concept, similar to the Gods, only Daemons walk this world among us.¡± Han answers.

    ¡°Good. What are some examples of Daemons, Arshak?¡± I can hear Rann¡¯s grin.

    ¡°The Daemon of Power, who controls all forms of power. The Daemon of Empire, who controls the Trivum Empire, the largest empire. The Daemon of Riches, the richest being in the world. The Daemon of-'''' Arshak drones on, before,

    ¡°Alright alright we get it.¡± Johnny cuts him off.

    ¡°How do you know about this? Are there any Daemons in the Abyss..?¡±

    ¡°Only reason we know anything about the world beyond the Abyss is the piles of books the founder of Haven brought down with him. And as far as we know, there¡¯s no Daemons or anything smart down here. Just us Damned, and we¡¯re the most Damned of the lot.¡± Rann grunts.

    ¡°So there¡¯s people like us outside the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they came from the Overlands like us. But unlike us, they don¡¯t pick up the¡­ same traits we did.¡± Rann says, rubbing his pointed ear to prove his point.

    ¡°That¡¯s the part I don¡¯t get¡­ Why did we get white pupils and red eyes and red hair and¡­ half-elf ears. Why did we get these bits added on or changed.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯d you get wings, Feathers?¡± Johnny pointedly asks.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Neither do we. Just one of life¡¯s many mysteries. I¡¯d say it¡¯s a blessin¡¯ that you have ¡®em, but whatever magic gave you wings didn¡¯t seem to magically teach you how to use ¡®em, ay?¡±

    ¡°Even if they did¡­¡± I look upwards. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be confident. It¡¯s a long way up.¡±

    ¡°Good point.¡± Johnny peers up. ¡°Falian knows how deep down this hole we are¡­¡±

    ¡°Six hundred tals.¡± Rann answers casually.

    ¡°Eh? How d¡¯you know that?¡± Johnny says, surprised to get an actual answer.

    ¡°It¡¯s an estimate taken by the man that founded Haven. It¡¯s recorded in one of the books in the library.¡± Rann shrugs. ¡°Can¡¯t prove if it¡¯s true or not.¡±

    Six hundred tals¡­ if I recall, a ¡®tal¡¯ is roughly a metre, so, 600 tals is¡­ We¡¯re 600 metres down. Yeah. That¡¯s a really long way for someone who has never flown before.

    ¡°Since they were mentioned. What are some of the native races of the Underlands?¡± Rann asks.

    ¡°Uhh¡­ those¡­ giraffe things..?¡±

    ¡°The hell is a- no, the Draaf. You know of dragons, yeah?¡± Johnny interjects.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen them in books and read about them.¡±

    ¡°Take the horns, scaly wings, and tail of a dragon, put it on a human. That¡¯s a Draaf. Supposedly they¡¯re just as territorial as dragons back up top are.¡± He answers, using his hands to mimic said horns, wings, and tail.

    ¡°That¡¯s one. What else?¡± Rann nods.

    ¡°The Aren¡­ they¡¯re sheep people.¡± Rob says, suddenly joining the conversation.

    ¡°Yes, supposedly they have the horns and wool of a sheep. They may even have hooves instead of feet.¡± Rann chuckles a little. ¡°Wonder if they taste like mutton.¡±

    ¡°Dunno what the point of all this is¡­ Not like we¡¯ll ever leave this place¡­¡± Rob murmurs, just loud enough for the four of us up front to hear.

    Rann suddenly brings the party to a halt, turning to look at Rob, who shrinks back a little.

    ¡°What...? No good fillin¡¯ ¡®er ¡®ead with things none of us¡¯ll ever see¡­¡± He says in his own defence.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky the Chief isn¡¯t here to give you an earful for that.¡± Rann grunts, starting to move again with the rest of us following along behind him, and another awkward silence falls for a time.

    ¡°Johnny?¡± I lean in to whisper.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± He answers, keeping his voice down.

    ¡°What does Rann mean by the Chief would give Rob an earful?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Yeah, the Chief has plans to get us out of here.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Not that any of us know the details, but, apparently yeah she has plans. Better than nothin¡¯ I guess.¡±

    A way out of this six hundred metre deep hole. From what I have seen of ¡°the edge¡± of the Abyss, it¡¯s just a sheer cliff face all the way up. But wait, if some guy got down here¡­

    ¡°Hey, how exactly did the guy that founded Haven get down here? And¡­ does he have a name?¡±

    ¡°It was a man named Blaine. He was Damned, but he arrived with nothing changed about his body - meaning he arrived in a place called the Gateway, the safest place for someone like us to end up. He was lucky. So lucky he was that he amassed considerable wealth for himself. One day he heard of the Abyss, and the fate of the sorry souls that inhabit it. He decided to make a difference. He gathered everything he could think of. Tools, building materials, furniture, weapons, food, and books. He built a crane on the edge of the cliffs above to bring supplies down to the Abyss.¡± Rann answers. He¡¯s certainly told this story before.

    But if this guy, Blaine, built a crane, then¡­

    ¡°What happened to the crane?¡±

    ¡°Thought you¡¯d pick up on that. For two weeks, supplies were brought up and down, and Haven began to be built, as an outpost of sorts to link the rest of the world with the Abyss. During that time, few of the Damned down here were found and either escaped or settled in Haven, as its first inhabitants. Then¡­¡±

    ¡°Then?¡±

    ¡°The crane went up, and never came down.¡±

    ¡°They were abandoned?!¡±

    ¡°Could be. Sabotaged, betrayed, forgotten, who knows.¡± Rann shrugs. ¡°Could be still up there. Far as I know, nothing from it ever fell down here.¡±

    So¡­ There¡¯s a chance.

    That, if I build the strength, experience and courage, I could fly up and out of the Abyss, find the crane, and lower it back down and re-open the link between the Abyss and the wider world. That for the first time in a hundred years, people could- wait. No.

    If it¡¯s been a hundred years and that crane has still survived, it¡¯s almost definitely not working.

    ¡°You picked up on why I brought you along now, didn¡¯t you.¡± Rann says, seeming to read my thoughts.

    ¡°You¡¯re putting a lot of faith in me¡­¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t let me down yet.¡± Rann glances back at me. I can¡¯t see the lower part of his face past the fur of the pelt draped across his shoulders, but I can tell he¡¯s smiling.

    I appreciate his vote of confidence, but he¡¯s still asking a lot of me.

    We continued on following the accurately named ¡°seeping wound¡± stream as it wove its way amongst the trees for another hour in mostly silence. Although the sled wasn¡¯t heavy, the slight uphill slope and slick mud beneath posed the constant risk of the sled sliding back downhill if we slacked off too much while pulling it.

    Aside from the dark red of the iron-rich water running alongside us, everything on the ground is just¡­ brown. Dark brown mud, and dark brown tree trunks bursting from the ground. There¡¯s no undergrowth, and no vegetation beside the trees themselves. Unlike the leering trees closer to Haven whose trunks twisted and snaked up to the sky, these trees stand tall, straight, and utterly featureless. Their leaves, from what I can see, resemble the needles of a pine tree, only their leaves are as brown as the mud coating the ground. The only thing breaking their illusion as ordinary pine trees is that I haven¡¯t seen a single pinecone, neither in the trees nor on the ground.

    ¡°Halt.¡± Rann says, drawing my attention away from the strange flora of the Abyss back to him.

    He looks around for a moment, then turns to face us. ¡°We¡¯re halfway there. Einar, Han, you¡¯re on sled duty.¡±

    We¡¯re halfway already? Huh. Didn¡¯t feel that long.

    Han and Einar move up from behind the sled, with Einar taking Johnny¡¯s position (and giving me a glare) while Han takes the ropes from me.

    ¡°Huh¡­ lighter than it looks..¡± Han comments as he takes up the rope.

    ¡°Yeah. Have fun you two.¡± Johnny says, as the two of us move around behind the sled, in front of Arshak and Arshiya.

    ¡°We¡¯ve made good time. We¡¯ll get to the campsite an hour before sundown. Let¡¯s move.¡± Rann orders, and the party sets off once again.

    ¡°Hoh¡­ am I glad I won¡¯t be pullin¡¯ that thing with the bloodbeast on it. Can¡¯t imagine how heavy that sucker¡¯d be.¡± Johnny sighs, rubbing his upper arm.

    ¡°Who will be pulling it with the bloodbeast on it?¡±

    ¡°Rob, and whoever¡¯s in the best shape after the fight. Which definitely won¡¯t be me.¡± Johnny smiles, tapping his temple with his finger.

    ¡°What makes you so sure of that, huh?¡± Arshak questions from behind, raising his voice.

    ¡°That¡¯s a trade secret.¡± Johnny smirks back at Arshak.

    ¡°What trade? You don¡¯t trade anything.¡± Arshak shoots back.

    ¡°Ahh, you¡¯ll get it when you¡¯re older, kid.¡± Johnny shrugs.

    ¡°Older?! If I¡¯m old enough to be part of the expedition team I¡¯m old enough to know whatever your dumb trade secrets are!¡± Arshak yells, to which Johnny just chuckles.

    ¡°He¡¯s teasing you, Arshak.¡±

    ¡°Hook, line, and sinker, kid.¡± Johnny grins. Arshak¡¯s face goes red, crossing his arms with a huff. Even Arshiya giggles a little at his embarrassment.

    ¡°Since you lot back there are so rowdy¡­ Let¡¯s continue our lesson.¡± Rann comments.

    ¡°Ugggghhhhhh¡­¡± Arshak groans.

    ¡°Oh! Can I ask a question!¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡± Rann calls back.

    ¡°Do any of the books mention where the dead Six God¡¯s bodies are? Or what happened to them?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡± He answers.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Although. I did read something about that. A theory.¡± He continues, noticing my disappointment. ¡°That we¡¯re standing on one of the dead Gods¡¯ bodies, right now.¡±

    ¡°... The hell kinda horseshit is that, Rann? When did you start readin¡¯, anyway? Been spending too much time in the Chief¡¯s library?¡± Johnny says, almost insulted by the idea that we¡¯re standing on a dead god¡¯s body.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t write it. Just some think that the Gods¡¯ corpses are where us Damned turn up here. Although even I noticed a problem with that.¡± Rann says, glancing back at us.

    ¡°You noticed it was horseshit?¡± Johnny wryly comments.

    ¡°I read there¡¯s seven places the Damned arrive in. Only six gods¡¯ corpses to go around.¡± Rann shrugs.

    If it really is the gods¡¯ corpses that bring us here¡­ then why would there be seven locations that the Damned arrive in, when only six gods died?

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound that far-fetched that the god¡¯s bodies brought us here, but there being seven places that the Damned arrive in does kinda counter that, aha¡­¡± Han ponders.

    ¡°... Are there horses in the Underlands?¡±

    ¡°Supposedly.¡± Rann says, scratching his beard. ¡°Dogs. Cats. Rats. Horses, rabbits, chickens, sheep, pigs, even gryphons, the Underlands has them all, on top of its own unique animals. Maybe they came here along with the gods. Not like any of those animals are down here, though.¡±

    ¡°Maybe the gods brought those animals with them with the hope that one day, we could live in this world like we did in our former world.¡± Han nods thoughtfully.

    ¡°Oh and what would you know of that, Mr Songman? Were you a priest in your past life? Did the gods whisper that in your ear?¡± Johnny pipes up.

    ¡°You got any better explanations, colonial?¡± Han shoots back, sounding angered.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not start name-calling¡­¡± Rann sighs, defusing the situation.

    Songman, huh¡­? Actually.

    ¡°Where is everyone from? Uh¡­ before we all ended up here?¡±

    No one answers immediately. Rann glances back over his shoulder, before turning to look ahead. ¡°Near Drachenkoenig.¡± He answers.

    ¡°Arshiya and I are from Samarkal. The Spice Isles, if you don¡¯t know any better.¡± Arshak grunts.

    ¡°Nordfjellene.¡± Einar answers dryly.

    ¡°The Westlands..¡± Rob answers, almost sounding unsure about it.

    ¡°Song, the Heavenly Empire.¡± Han responds.

    ¡°Newport, shinin¡¯ jewel of the Giornovan Empire¡¯s new world colonies! The Songman there¡¯s just jealous we got there first.¡± Johnny answers smugly. ¡°How bout you, Feathers?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s from the Sovrana Republic.¡± Han chimes in, smirking back at Johnny.

    ¡°Who asked¡­ whatever. Really, Feathers? That dinky little place?¡± Johnny asks, brushing off Han¡¯s retort.

    Calling the most beautiful city I¡¯ve ever seen that has dozens of epithets relating to its beauty ¡°dinky¡± irks me for some reason.

    ¡°Yes, that ¡®dinky little place¡¯. The Gem of the South. The Shining City. The Peerless Azure. The Serene. The City Where Gold Flows Like Wine And Wine Flows Like Water. The-¡±

    ¡°Alright alright I get it, I was joking. Sheesh¡­¡± Johnny waves in defeat.

    The small talk continued as we made our way along the winding trail following the blood-red stream of the seeping wound, passing the hours along with stories of our former lives.

 Chapter Fourteen

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Rann¡¯s voice broke up the monotonous slogging of boots through the mud that had hung as the only sound around for quite some time.

    Calling the seeping wound a ¡°stream¡± is being generous. Its thick, gluggy waters flow so slowly that they produce no discernible noise of running water as it meanders down the hillside. It¡¯s a wonder anything grows at all down here - the only clean water I¡¯ve seen is that which flows from the Crystalfall. Any other source of water, including the rain, is some degree of red, with an unpleasant metallic taste. But, as they say¡­ life finds a way.

    Our surroundings had changed twice as we made our way towards the campsite. First, the tall, featureless pine trees gave way to a sparser forest of trees with coarse, charred trunks, scraggly branches growing in every direction, dark red leaves, and deep scratches and gaping wounds that ooze a glistening red sap the colour of freshly-spilled blood. Johnny said that these were bloodwood trees, and assured me that the trees aren¡¯t literally bleeding, it¡¯s just their sap looks like blood. I¡¯d heard of such trees before, but these certainly don¡¯t look out of place in the Abyss.

    The sparser forest made up of these bloodwood trees was more unnerving, however. It was the first time I could see around for some distance, and see just how eerily still this place is. Nothing moved. No critters moved through the underbrush, and no wind blew amongst the trees. It didn¡¯t feel like we were being watched, though. It just felt like we were the only living things for miles around.

    We¡¯d only been moving through the bloodwood forest for an hour or so before it abruptly stopped, and all that lay before us was a barren, stony field, littered with giant grey boulders that looked eerily similar to tombstones. The stonefields. Not a word was said when we got there. We simply turned to the left and carried on, following along the edge of the stonefields for a while before heading back into the bloodwood forest. A thick, heavy fog hung like a curse over the stonefields, imposing a dreadful silence upon the land. We had all silently agreed that there was definitely something watching us out in the fog, but whatever it was, it didn¡¯t seem to follow us back into the forest.

    Rann¡¯s words had affirmed that we¡¯d arrived at our destination; a small clearing amongst the bloodwood trees. Nothing looked out of the ordinary¡­ for what passes as ordinary here, anyway.

    ¡°Han, Einar, move the sled over to those trees. Johnny, twins, unload the sled and get the mats down. Rob, Marina, you two come with me to gather firewood. We set up camp, then we¡¯ll scout the bloodbeast¡¯s den.¡± Rann gives out his orders, and the expedition team sets into motion.

    Rann grabs a pair of axes, handing one to Rob¡­ but not to me?

    ¡°Gather twigs and dry leaves for kindling, Marina. Rob and I will chop the firewood.¡± Rann glances back at me.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡±

    No axe for me I guess. Although¡­

    Finding dry leaves in this muddy hellhole is easier said than done.

    The twigs are easy enough to find. Oddly, the twigs are as charred as the bloodwood trees¡¯ trunks, and touching them leaves black soot on my fingers. As for the leaves, that feels more like an exercise in futility. The closest to ¡°dry¡± I can find is the leaves on the very top of the occasional pile laying on the ground; anything else is either slimy and wet or caked in dirt. A handful of dry leaves and an armful of twigs should be more than enough to get a decent fire going.

    Shortly after, Rann and Rob come back with a few logs in hand, and the three of us return to the campsite.

    At least, where the campsite is supposed to be. We weren¡¯t gone that long, but the rest of the party are standing around the sled, rifling through the supplies loaded on it rather than setting up camp like they were told to.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t give them that hard a job, did I?¡± Rann asks Rob, the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice. Rob just shrugs.

    ¡°Rann, what the hell did you throw on the sled last night? Spiked bolas, golden caltrops and a giant net, but no tents? Only barley bread as rations? No bait?¡± Johnny turns to question Rann, holding one of the spiked bolas in question.

    ¡°Last minute additions by the Chief. She said it won¡¯t rain, and we need space to take everything back once the bloodbeast¡¯s on the sled. The fewer things we bring, the fewer we have to take back.¡± Rann answers bluntly, placing the wood he was carrying on the ground.

    ¡°The Chief can predict the weather¡­?¡± Han asks.

    ¡°I trust her judgement.¡± Rann states, moving through the crowd around the sled to grab a wooden frame and a rough fabric sheet from it.

    ¡°We have barley bread¡­?¡±

    ¡°We call it that so it¡¯s more palatable.¡± Rann shrugs.

    ¡°But isn¡¯t bread made from barley kinda¡­¡± I hesitantly sniff the small, round, hard loaf of bread before me. It smells like some kind of grain, sure, but not a pleasant one. ¡°Not good¡­?¡±

    ¡°It also means it won¡¯t get your hopes up.¡± He chuckles to himself.

    ¡°Did anyone tell the two newbies the rules of the expedition team?¡± Arshak says, arms crossed and shooting a look at me.

    ¡°You just volunteered to.¡± Rann says, patting Arshak on the shoulder as he passes him.

    ¡°Tch¡­ fine.¡± Arshak sighs. ¡°We leave nothing behind. Every arrow you shoot, you pick up. Every meal you eat, you finish. Before we leave we cover our tracks and destroy the campsite. Not a trace left. Which means Han, watch where you shoot and don¡¯t waste arrows.¡±

    ¡°Good job.¡± Rann pats Arshak¡¯s shoulder again as he walks back to the sled. ¡°We¡¯re using metal arrowheads. If we lose even one, Ingrid¡¯s going to hang someone by their ankles.¡±

    ¡°I-Ingrid¡­¡± Han shudders at the mention of her name. ¡°I hit a nail wrong and bent it¡­ Ingrid made me hammer it back until it was perfectly straight. It took three days¡­¡±

    ¡°Then you know what she¡¯s capable of.¡± Rann nods solemnly. ¡°Marina, your spear. Keep it close.¡±

    Rann hands me the bear spear. Knowing what to expect, I take it in both hands and hold it upright. It¡¯s easier to handle now that I know how heavy it is.

    The rest of the expedition team gawk up at the massive spear I¡¯m holding. Most of them wouldn¡¯t have actually seen someone holding this yet, and it¡¯s longer than any of us are tall, even taller than Rob.

    ¡°Er, question, sir¡­¡± Han asks hesitantly.

    ¡°Answer.¡± Rann responds.

    ¡°If we need something that big to kill this bloodbeast¡­ will our arrows even do anything?¡± Han continues. It¡¯s a good question, actually. If this giant spear is what¡¯s needed for the job, what will arrows do?

    ¡°You, along with the twins and Einar, will aim for its throat, eyes, and joints. You¡¯re there to annoy it, not kill it. John and Rob will throw bolas at its legs and be ready with the nets. I¡¯ll be in front of it, either getting my spear in its neck or down its throat. Marina jumps on top of it, driving her spear through its neck. All goes well, it¡¯ll die on the spot.¡± Rann rehashes the plan, each person nodding as they¡¯re mentioned.

    ¡°Is that why someone stuck spikes on these perfectly good bolas?¡± Johnny asks, twirling one around lightly.

    ¡°Its legs are too thick to bind with bolas. Those are to get on its joints or paws and hinder its movement.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°And these shiny golden crows¡¯ feet are the Chief¡¯s handiwork, I take it? How do we even hide these?¡± Johnny holds up one of the caltrops in question, its clean golden edges shining in the dull light.

    ¡°We don¡¯t. When it goes for the bait, we throw them behind it.¡± Rann says.

    ¡°What, it¡¯ll just let us toss these behind it?¡± Johnny questions, and a couple others mutter in agreement on how this bloodbeast will just let us throw things behind it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve encountered bloodbeasts a few times in my life. There¡¯s one thing they all have in common.¡± Rann starts.

    ¡°They all have a taste for human flesh?¡± Johnny cuts in sarcastically.

    ¡°They don¡¯t give a damn what goes on around them. The only thing that can threaten a bloodbeast is another bloodbeast, and they never move quietly. So long as it doesn¡¯t see us, it won¡¯t pay us a moment¡¯s notice.¡± He finishes.

    ¡°Now I have a question, captain¡­ What bait?¡± Arshak asks, peering over the contents of the sled. The only thing ¡°edible¡± there is the barley bread.

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen the jackhorn tracks around. You two can hunt one for us.¡± Rann nods towards Arshak and Arshiya.

    ¡°Ey, hunt us a couple more. Fatten us up a bit before the bloodbeast eats us.¡± Johnny quips.

    ¡°The twins and I will find one.¡± Einar states in his usual blunt manner, slinging his bow over his shoulder.

    ¡°As¡­ can¡¯t I help hunt one?¡± Han asks, hopefully grabbing his bow. Einar just gives him a look, and he backs down.

    ¡°You¡¯ve never seen a live one, boy.¡± He says, adding insult to injury.

    ¡°One will do. We¡¯d attract too much attention cooking something out here.¡± Rann shoots down the idea of catching a few extra jackhorns for dinner. ¡°Before you three head off, come with me. We¡¯ll scout the den. The rest of you, get the fire going and finish setting up camp.¡±

    Rann, the twins and Einar take their leave, heading northeast from the campsite, leaving Rob, Johnny, Han and I to finish setting everything up by the time they get back.

    ¡°Well, you heard him. Let¡¯s get to it.¡± Johnny shrugs, grabbing another wooden frame from the sled.

    Instead of tents, we had wooden frames with a taut fabric sheet covering one size, nailed along the sides of the frame, long enough to sleep on, like a cot of sorts. Its purpose is to keep your body and most of the fabric off the ever-muddy earth so you stay dry. Apparently such a frame is needed for this part of the Abyss - it rarely rains here, but the ground is always sodden and wet. It¡¯s neither hot nor cold, but it¡¯s certainly humid. It made finding dry leaves for the fire a pain. But as reward for my effort, I set up the campfire while the others got out the bed frames and supplies. I¡¯d set up a nice little log cabin fire, now I just needed to find the fire striker to light it. It should be somewhere on the sled.

    The flint stick is where it should be. The fire starter to strike the flint is¡­ it should be¡­ um.

    ¡°Ey, Feathers, what¡¯s taking so long with the fire?¡± Johnny pipes up.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the flint, I just can¡¯t find the fire starter¡­¡±

    ¡°Fire starters¡¯ with the flint.¡± Johnny calls back.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What? It¡¯s with-¡±

    ¡°The fire starter isn¡¯t here!¡±

    ¡°It¡­ what?¡± Johnny gets up, walking over to the sled beside me and rifling through the small wooden boxes lining one side of the sled. ¡°The hell¡­ I packed it, where the hell is it?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Han asks, walking up to the sled. Rob takes note of what we¡¯re doing and comes over too.

    ¡°Where¡­ Falian¡¯s brass balls. We can¡¯t find the fire striker.¡± Johnny huffs, standing back up.

    ¡°Then how are we supposed to light the fire with no fire starter?¡± Han says, peering down at the boxes himself.

    ¡°Any of you wanna whip out your secret fire magic? Those wings of yours got any neat tricks, Marina?¡± Johnny inquires.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never tried any magic, and I don¡¯t think right now is a good time to start.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got other metal bits all over the place. Can¡¯t we just use one of them?¡± Rob asks glumly. He doesn¡¯t talk much, and when he does, he sounds slightly bothered by the fact that he had to talk.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just use any random bit of steel. It¡¯s gotta be high quality, thin, and something sharp. An arrow head wouldn¡¯t cut it.¡± Johnny says, annoyed at Rob¡¯s dumb suggestion.

    High quality, thin and sharp metal, hmm¡­ You¡¯re thinking what I¡¯m thinking, hmm?

    ¡°Like this?¡±

    Right on cue, one of my wings pops out from under my cloak, keeping itself furled against my side as the outermost blade-feather flicks out to full length, slightly startling everyone present.

    ¡°... Yeah that might just do it, Feathers.¡± Johnny says, scratching his head.

    Taking the flint in hand, I walk over and kneel by the kindling prepared on the fire, the choicest dry leaves in all of the Abyss. Now, uh¡­ wings. How do I explain this? I hold the flint stick above the fire, and then you strike downwards along it to spark. Hold the flint, strike down¡­

    With their usual swift movement, the extended blade-feather swipes downward, a shower of sparks falling over kindling. Smoke quickly begins to rise amidst the leaves and twigs, as licks of flame reach out to grasp at the stacked logs and branches.

    A small round of applause is made as the fire catches, and the campsite is illuminated by a pale orange glow.

    ¡°Well. Next best thing to magic, ey.¡± Johnny nods.

    With the campsite set up, the four of us stand around the campfire, idling away the time until Rann and the others return.

    ¡°So, um¡­ Rob, John, how many expeditions have you two gone on?¡± Han asks, breaking the silence.

    ¡°Dunno.¡± Rob shrugs indifferently.

    ¡°More than a few, yeah. Been doin¡¯ this for¡­ probably ten years or so now? Been all over the Abyss.¡± Johnny shrugs, but actually answers compared to Rob.

    ¡°Is everywhere around here like¡­ This?¡± Han continues, directing his questions more at Johnny than Rob.

    ¡°There¡¯s all kindsa places down here, kid. We¡¯re pretty far down south here, it doesn¡¯t rain much. You saw the stonefields. Creepy, fog-covered place. Rann could tell you more than I can, he¡¯s been everywhere. You think the trees here are creepy, oozin¡¯ sap like blood with charred black trunks. There¡¯s worse. Pits of fire that never stop burnin¡¯. Mushrooms that look like skulls that suck the life out of the trees. Rusted-over swords as big as trees, surrounded by piles of human skulls. The Ghostwood. I¡¯ve been near the Ghostwood once. I¡¯d never go back there again if I had a choice. Everythin¡¯ round here¡¯s brown, red, or reddy brown. Those trees, white as snow, the ground cracked, dry, and stained grey. If you set one foot in there, you¡¯d be dead in seconds¡­ As I said. All kindsa places.¡± Johnny¡¯s answer hangs in the air for a time.

    I¡¯ve seen one or two of the things he mentioned. The pits of fire that burn ceaselessly, and the piles of human skulls. Rusted swords as big as trees? Mushrooms that look like skulls? The ghost woods that kill you within seconds after setting foot in there? That¡¯s the kind of thing you¡¯d hear in bed time stories, to keep children away from places they shouldn¡¯t be, but¡­ Johnny wasn¡¯t lying when he talked about them. He¡¯s more laid back and relaxed than most here, but the look in his eyes as he spoke of those places tell of the horrors he¡¯s seen.

    ¡°South, huh¡­ how far south from Have-mmmph?!¡± Han goes to ask, before Rob¡¯s giant hand covers half his face, as he puts his other finger to his lips.

    ¡°We don¡¯t talk about how far town is. Never.¡± Rob warns, his voice stern and hard.

    Han nods quickly, before Rob finally takes his hand away.

    ¡°Probably shoulda told you two. First rule of the expedition team.¡± Johnny sighs, crossing his arms.

    ¡°... The first rule is¡­?¡±

    ¡°Never talk about where the town is. Never.¡± Rob answers.

    ¡°You mean¡­ Are there really like, whole other entire groups down here¡­ groups as big as everyone from Have- I mean, town?¡± Han corrects himself before he draws Rob¡¯s ire.

    ¡°All kindsa people out here, kid. Never know when someone else is listenin¡¯.¡± Johnny says, quickly scanning the treeline around camp.

    ¡°Mmhm. Or when someone¡¯s sneaking up.¡± Rann says, appearing behind Johnny and patting him on the shoulder.

    ¡°What the- Falian¡¯s brass balls!! The hell you doin¡¯ sneakin¡¯ up on me, Rann!?¡± Johnny nearly jumps out his skin, as Rann stands beside him.

    ¡°Here for you three. Marina, watch the camp. Einar and the twins will be back soon.¡± Rann nods towards the other three.

    ¡°What? We leaving her alone?¡± Rob questions, shooting a look towards me.

    ¡°Yes. We are. Get a move on.¡± Rann responds, turning back towards the bloodbeast¡¯s den.

    With Rob¡¯s protest shot down, he and the two others take their leave from the camp.

    Well, uh.

    Guess I have the camp to myself for a bit.

    Just me, the lovely fire I lit, and a prepared campsite ready for the night. Sitting alone in the dank, dark woods. No one but me and my wings to keep me company. Clearly, this is where I sit and reflect upon myself, the night before the big hunt.

    Rann didn¡¯t mention anything about the bloodbeast. He just told Johnny, Rob and Han to come with him. I assume that means everything is going as planned, but it does make one wonder.

    Wonder what I¡¯m supposed to do to pass the time. Practice with the spear?

    Aside from getting used to its weight, my job with it is to jump and stab down. There isn¡¯t much to learn.

    At least I have the time to admire this weapon, my first¡­ second, second proper weapon in the Abyss. Yes, wings, you¡¯re the first weapon. Maybe if you didn¡¯t carry so much jealousy you might have known how to fly, huh- Ow! Knock it off, already! I¡¯m kidding! Gods¡­

    Speaking of, my second weapon. The bear spear. Taller than me, with a shaft of black wood as smooth and heavy as polished stone. Its spearhead is longer than my hand, sharp and wide, bound, no¡­ nailed and fastened to the wood, strong and secure. Hopefully strong enough that I can stick it in a bloodbeast without it breaking. It¡¯s well made, well weighted. It¡¯s a good spear.

    ¡­ That¡¯s all I have to say on it, really. I¡¯m not an expert on spears. It lets you poke things beyond arm''s length, that¡¯s good enough for me.

    Still, even an amateur can appreciate solid craftsmanship-

    <<BEHIND>>

    Without a second¡¯s hesitation, I hoist my spear and swing it around behind me at shoulder level, wings spread wide and blades bared like fangs.

    Arshiya and Arshak have recoiled back in shock, while Einar just stares at me as he always does, holding a dead jackhorn by the scruff.

    ¡°Oh. It¡¯s you three.¡±

    ¡°You noticed us, girl.¡± Einar says, very slightly raising his voice and just barely cocking an eyebrow, as if asking just how I sensed their sudden presence.

    ¡°I, uh¡­ You know, when someone¡¯s close, like a metre- I mean, tal or less behind you, you can usually tell¡­¡±

    Einar glances down at the ground between us.

    ¡°More than a couple tals away, girl.¡± Einar says with, perhaps, a hint of¡­ I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t get how he talks. He still hasn¡¯t called me by my actual name.

    But, Einar just shrugs slightly, walking past me into the campsite.

    I did sense him. I could sense two others, but mainly it was Einar¡¯s presence I felt. It felt like something shouted ¡°Behind¡± in my head. Did I hear that? Was that my imagination? Are you talking to me, wings?

    The lack of a sudden voice in my head accompanied by a brisk shake of my wings answers that question. Okay. Maybe it was just my spatial awareness acting up. Einar does kinda unnerve me.

    ¡°... Can you put the spear down now, Marina?¡± Arshak requests, still slightly tense, given I¡¯m pointing a spear and a whole bunch of blade-feathers in his direction.

    ¡°A-ah¡­ right. Sorry.¡±

    My wings slink down to rest close on my back, and I relax the spear.

    ¡°Did Rann leave you here alone to take the other three to scout the bloodbeast den?¡± Arshak asks, walking over and sitting on his designated bed frame.

    ¡°He did, although he hasn¡¯t been gone long¡­ what¡¯s the bloodbeast¡¯s den like?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± Arshak says, giving me a look as he grabs a bit of bread from his pouch.

    Arshiya sits down quietly beside her brother, pulling out her own rations for dinner. Einar stands by the sled, wrapping the dead jackhorn in some cloth before sitting by his bed, settling in for a quiet, awkward meal as Einar stares at me the whole time he¡¯s eating.

    Einar¡¯s just¡­ staring at me. As he always does. Does he want something? Is he curious about something? Does he hate me?

    ¡°Einar?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not eating, girl.¡± He answers briskly.

    ¡°... I¡¯ll eat once I get back with Rann.¡±

    Einar shrugs, finally looking away from me and giving me a moment to breathe. Thank the gods¡­

    ¡°Speaking of.¡± Einar nods his head slightly in the direction he¡¯s looking.

    Johnny, Han and Rob march back into camp with Rann behind them, the three of them slumping down on their respective beds, looking some level of shocked, concerned, or outright defeated.

    ¡°I swear, Rann. We die, I¡¯m hauntin¡¯ you for the rest of time.¡± Johnny grumbles, glaring at Rann.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. Marina. Let¡¯s go.¡± Rann brushes off Johnny¡¯s groaning, motioning for me to get up and follow him.

    ¡°Yeah yeah, have fun you two. Feathers, see if you can convince him outta this nonsense. There¡¯s no way we¡¯re gettin¡¯ outta this alive.¡± Johnny yells, as I get up and turn to follow Rann back into the trees towards the bloodbeast¡¯s den.

    We¡¯ve been walking for about ten minutes, with no bloodbeast den in sight.

    ¡°Johnny, uh¡­ didn¡¯t sound very confident back there.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± is Rann¡¯s only answer.

    After another five minutes of silently walking through the sparse bloodwood forest, Rann finally speaks up.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be at your point soon. Yours is further away than the rest.¡± Rann says.

    I guess it would be, given my role is to jump ¡°off the top of the cave¡± to drive the spear through the back of its neck. Simultaneously the most and least dangerous job of them all.

    ¡°Here.¡± Rann stops, putting his arm out in front of me to stop me.

    Ah.

    The ground beneath us abruptly drops about a metre ahead. Before us lies a sizable clearing among the trees, littered with fallen trees and large, broken and gnawed-on bones. We¡¯re standing on a ledge about ten metres up, with presumably the den¡¯s entrance gaping below us.

    ¡°We¡¯re¡­¡±

    ¡°About ten tals up.¡± Rann answers before I ask.

    ¡°The bloodbeast¡¯s wounded, too wounded to hunt. It¡¯s had nothing but bones to chew for weeks. Even the scent of a dead jackhorn would lure it out.¡± Rann points to the middle of the clearing. ¡°The bait will be there.¡± He then points to two spots either side of the bait¡¯s location. ¡°There¡¯s enough litter for us to hide behind. Once it¡¯s taken the bait, John and Rob will toss caltrops behind it, then hit its front legs with the bolas. Einar, Han and the twins will hit its face and neck with arrows. I keep its attention on me with the bear spear, aiming for its neck, or better still, right down its throat. John and Rob throw the net up over its head. Once it¡¯s immobilised, I give you the signal, and you strike from above to put it out of its misery.¡±

    Rann turns to look at me. ¡°Any questions?¡±

    ¡°... just how big is this bloodbeast if it¡¯s in a cave ten tals tall?¡±

    ¡°5 tals, maybe 6. On its hind legs it reaches double that height.¡± Rann shrugs lightly.

    ¡°So a five tal tall bloodbeast, from a ten tal tall cave, about¡­¡±

    ¡°Ten tals out from the cave entrance.¡± Rann clarifies.

    ¡°That is¡­ way, way further than I¡¯ve ever jumped.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re aiming for a bigger target this time. You¡¯ll be fine.¡± Rann pats me on the shoulder, turning to head back to camp.

    ¡°Wh- This time the target¡¯s a godsdamned 6-tal-tall murder-bear!!¡±

    Rann just chuckles dryly, as I quickly follow behind him back to the camp. Despite my worries, I am hungry, and I haven¡¯t eaten yet¡­

    Fortunately, we got back to camp soon enough. The rest of the expedition team is gathered around the campfire, trying to keep themselves warm as the last faint light of day fades.

    ¡°So. Any luck?¡± Johnny asks, sitting up to look at me.

    ¡°It¡­ well, if everyone does their parts, it should work¡­¡± I respond, sitting down on the edge of my cot, finally getting a chance to eat the barley bread rations I have for dinner.

    Johnny looks at Rob in disbelief, who sighs and shrugs.

    ¡°I would have thought the one told to jump off a cliff like some kinda crazy would be the one to take issue with Rann¡¯s plan here.¡± Johnny shrugs.

    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s¡­¡±

    Everyone in the camp is looking across at me. No one looks particularly hopeful or glad about this situation, and in their eyes, I should be the least happy of all.

    ¡°A bloodbeast¡¯s a bigger target than a sack of sand.¡± Is my answer.

    Everyone just sighs, groans, or looks down. Rann chuckles to himself.

    ¡°Shoulda known better than askin¡¯ for common sense from the girl that jumped on the back of a carrion hawk first time she saw one¡­¡± Johnny grumbles.

    ¡°But if someone didn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Why did you act, girl.¡± Einar stares directly at me, cutting Johnny off before he can speak.

    ¡°Why¡­¡±

    Because it was the right thing to do, is what I wanted to say.

    But that didn¡¯t sit right.

    There were plenty of guards there. Vann was there. The Chief was there. They lost Nate, but they had the numbers to take it down. It was already wounded and screaming, I more or less just finished it off. There were better skilled people, more capable, who could have killed it, avenging Nate. I could have gotten myself killed. I could have ended up like Nate, too. I knew all that then, as I know it now.

    But I still moved. I still acted. I still grabbed that spear, leapt through the air, and threw myself into a dangerous situation without a second thought. Maybe not even a first thought; I didn¡¯t think, I just acted. I just¡­ saw people in trouble, and knew, somehow, I could help. And thankfully, it worked out.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Einar grunts. ¡°Seems you understand.¡±

    ¡°Right. Get to sleep, the lot of you. We¡¯ll move before dawn. We set out in groups I took you in. Arshak, Arshiya, Einar, you go first, scout the clearing. Han, Rob, John, you bring the sled up near the clearing. Marina and I will come last; Marina goes up atop the cave, I set the bait to draw it out. We go as planned from there.¡± Rann orders, and the expedition team all half-heartedly sound off, laying down to get as much sleep as they can.

    Normally, the anticipation would be keeping me up all night, but half a day of dragging a sled helped me get right to sleep.

 Chapter Fifteen

    Ah¡­

    It''s warm.

    It''s been forever since I last felt the gentle caress of sunlight across my face, shining in through the window.

    To think, I''d almost forgotten it, when... how could I forget something so familiar?

    And how I''d missed you, bed... a real bed. A proper, soft and fluffy mattress with a warm cuddly blanket, not a cot with a mat of hay and a scratchy linen sheet.

    Although... which bed is this? My first or my...

    Hmm. It feels like it has springs. That makes it my first bed.

    Reluctantly, I crack one eye open to peek at my bedside clock.

    7:45am.

    I have to be up at 8am to be at uni by 9:30, so...

    15 more minutes of sleep! Yippee!

    I roll around on my bed, gathering up my blanket to wrap myself up into a perfect blankie burrito. So warm. So cozy, so comfy, so... sleep-inducing...

    But... if I fall back asleep...

    Will I just fall right back into that neverending nightmare? Will I end up back in Haven? Was that all just a long, drawn out and bizarrely detailed dream?

    "Marina! Come down and get some breakfast!" My mother calls.

    Shoot. I guess she heard me rolling around in bed... The floors in this house were always too thin.

    Oh well. Guess I''ll go down and have break... fast...

    Marina?

    Who''s Marina?

    That''s not my name. That was definitely my mother''s voice, though. My mother, not my other... mother?

    The first one, not the second... but... I only have one mum, not...

    "Mum...?" I call.

    "I''m not bringing your breakfast upstairs, dear." She calls back, in her warm, lightly teasing voice... Yeah. That''s my mum.

    Okay. Enough with the existential crisis. It''s nearly 8 now, so I really should get up.

    I sit up, swinging my legs to the side to sit against the edge of the bed, stretching out like I always do... glancing in my standing mirror-

    "EEK!!!?"

    I jump backwards onto the bed, clutching my blanket. What the hell is in my mirror. It has red and black hair and blood red eyes and white pupils and pointed ears and fucking WINGS what the fuck what the fuck what the ff...

    A strand of hair falls from my fringe, laying across my eye.

    Black hair.

    I look in the mirror again. The thing looking back at me looks just as startled as I am. Something soft rubs against both my shoulders - it''s my wings. Trying to... console me, maybe. My wings. My wings?

    "Is everything alright, dear...?" My mother asks.

    The door to my room, right beside the standing mirror, opens as my mother peers in.

    Mum... with her blonde hair, starting to turn platinum as she''s in her 50s, or... no, her dark brown hair, she''s not even 40 yet... Her soft blue eyes, or her... hazel... ones...

    What? Which... who''s...

    "M-Mum...?" I whimper.

    "Yes?" Two voices answer, one of an older, stern but loving woman, the other of a young, sing-songy and sweet woman.

    Which... Where, what house is... this... What family... What life? What''s... Mum... Mum!... Mum!

    "Marina." Rann''s voice suddenly cuts through my dream, and I blink awake.

    "R-Rann...?"

    "Yes, Rann. Not your mother. It''s time, let''s go." Rann pats my shoulder, standing back up and grabbing his spear.

    "Right, just, uh..." I look down at my hands. These are the hands I''m used to now, with a strand of black hair across my eyes...

    "Um, Rann..."

    "Yes?" Rann turns to look back at me. The unflappable calmness in his eyes helps ease my nerves a little.

    "How um... How do I look?"

    "With your eyes, Marina." Rann turns to leave.

    "N-No I mean... uh... nevermind." I sit up from my cot, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

    "Dreaming of your past life?" He asks, slinging the bear spear over his shoulder.

    "Yeah..."

    ¡°Happens.¡± Rann extends out his hand, which I take, standing up.

    ¡°Wait if everyone¡¯s¡­ they took the sled, but my cot¡¯s still¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of that. Everyone decided you had earned a bit more rest.¡± Rann leans down, picking up my cot and tucking it under his arm.

    ¡°They did?¡± I question, grabbing the weighty spear that I¡¯ve grown used to handling.

    ¡°No. I decided it.¡± Rann clarifies.

    Then why did¡­ fine. The campfire¡¯s already been cleared; there¡¯s no trace left of us being here. It¡¯s convenient that ¡°being on fire¡± is a common thing around here; no one¡¯s going to question any particular pile of ash from the dozens of such piles that can be found all over the place.

    ¡°Head to your spot above the cave. I¡¯ll signal you when we¡¯re ready.¡± Rann says, turning to leave towards the northeastern clearing outside the bloodbeast¡¯s cave.

    ¡°Everything still going according to plan?¡± I call.

    Rann just waves in response. Guess everything¡¯s fine. Before I set off, though.

    Wings- yes, hi, thanks for the neck tickle of acknowledgement. Saying ¡°Wings¡± before talking to you in my head helps me keep track of what I¡¯m saying. Stay under the cloak until it¡¯s our turn to move. It¡¯s probably not a good idea for anyone¡­ else¡­ to see me out here with wings.

    Off we go, then.

    I¡¯d practically memorised every step of the path to my spot atop the cave. The bloodwood forest looks flat at first glance, but there¡¯s ditches and gullies running between the trees and breaking up the sparse bushes. What you can¡¯t see are the hills. Really, the ¡°hill¡± where the cave isn¡¯t a hill, the clearing is much lower than its surroundings, which means keeping track of where I¡¯m going is important.

    Which is¡­

    ¡­

    I¡¯m going the right way, right- no, of course I am. I shouldn¡¯t doubt myself, that¡¯d just make me panic. I know the path. I come up to this tree with its branches twirled in a loop, and I go right.

    Before I step, my wings jolt under the cloak, jerking my body to the left.

    It was left? Yeah. It was left.

    Thanks for remembering and reminding me, wings. I¡¯m still trying to¡­ actually, no. I feel like no matter how long I pontificate over the function, existence, and intelligence of the wings I found on my back upon being reborn here, I won¡¯t get any satisfactory answers. It¡¯s convenient that they can count and remember directions, at least.

    If anything, the fifteen minutes walk to my designated location wouldn¡¯t be nearly enough time to sort through the many questions the existence of my wings raises, because I¡¯m here now.

    One last step, and I¡¯m in position, standing atop the cave¡¯s entrance with the clearing before me.

    The twins, Han, and Einar had spread out across the clearing in a rough semicircle, each hiding behind a pile of large bones or a fallen tree. Johnny and Rob are standing near the opposite end of the clearing, each with a net slung over their shoulder and holding a sack in their hands. Everyone¡¯s standing as far away from the cave¡¯s entrance as possible, and I¡¯m standing on top of it. Haha.

    Shortly after I reach my position, Rann enters the far end of the clearing, carrying his bear spear and the dead jackhorn. Between me and him, the clearing looks to be some 100 metres (or tals) long, given how small Rann looks over there.

    ¡­ Yet I can still quite clearly see what he¡¯s holding. Huh. Has my vision improved? I used to be short-sighted¡­

    Rann says something to Johnny and Rob, and the two of them move to opposite sides of the cave, taking their positions. Rann sticks his spear in the ground, walking towards the cave entrance with the bait in his hands. He keeps walking, until he¡¯s right in front of the cave, standing almost directly below me.

    ¡°Everything alright up there, Marina?¡± He asks, in his normal tone of voice.

    ¡°Uh¡­ should we be talking? Everyone else is keeping quiet¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bloodbeast, Marina. What did I say about bloodbeasts?¡± He continues, tearing a leg off the jackhorn¡¯s carcass.

    ¡°That bloodbeasts don¡¯t give a damn what goes on around them.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Rann tosses the leg into the cave, although I don¡¯t hear it land.

    ¡°I swear¡­ knew this was a suicide mission¡­¡± Johnny grumbles, loud enough for Rann and I to hear.

    ¡°Stick to the plan. It¡¯ll all go fine.¡± Rann nonchalantly responds.

    He walks back to the middle of the clearing, dropping the bait there, then moving to grab his spear and rest against the trunk of a tree, with all its bark scratched off by claw marks as big as my hand.

    Now¡­ we wait.

    Everyone does their jobs, it all goes to plan.

    Thump.

    Everyone¡¯s in position. We all know our roles.

    Thump.

    Really, I¡¯ve got the easiest job. I just finish it off after everyone else does the hard parts.

    Thump.

    I¡¯ve done this before, without thinking even. It just came naturally. It¡¯ll be fine.

    Thump.

    ¡­

    Okay, good. The ground stopped shaking. Must¡¯ve just been a minor earthquake-

    Thump.

    No, there it is again. That can¡¯t be¡­

    Thump.

    Okay. With every thump, the dirt beneath my feet moves. Every leaf on every bush and every tree rustles. The force shakes some leaves to the ground. It¡¯s just an echo though. It is in a cave after all.

    Thump.

    That¡­ haha, okay, it can¡¯t be that bad. I can¡¯t see what¡¯s going on inside the cave, nor can I clearly see anyone in the clearing, except¡­ oh, I can see Arshak clearly.

    Thump.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    At least¡­ no, that is Arshak. He¡¯s just¡­ really, really pale. Staring into the cave, wide-eyed and deathly still.

    Thump.

    My legs suddenly buckle, and I drop to my knees, nearly slipping off this hill down into the clearing if I hadn¡¯t driven the base of my spear as deep into the mud as I could. Rann peeks around from behind his hiding spot, checking that I¡¯m okay. I am, I am, I¡¯m fine¡­

    Thump.

    A blast of steam shoots from the cave¡¯s entrance, blowing loose leaves and pebbles outwards.

    Thump.

    The bloodbeast¡¯s head emerges from the cave, sniffing the ground before it.

    Its head is definitely bear shaped, just, five times larger than any bear I¡¯ve ever seen. Its ears are rounded, but one of them looks to have been bitten into. Its fur is dark brown, yet despite the wet and filthy conditions it lives in, it looks surprisingly clean. And fluffy.

    Thump.

    It takes another lumbering step forward. Even from above, it looks like it barely fits in the cave. Nobody dares make a move. Aside from the bloodbeast itself, the clearing is completely silent.

    It lifts its head up, sniffing the air. I suddenly remember reading that bears have possibly the best sense of smell of any animal. It would absolutely be able to smell us.

    And clearly, it does. It looks right at the pile of oversized rib bones that Arshak¡¯s hiding behind.

    Thump.

    It steps towards Arshak. Arshak looks so pale he might faint. This is where it goes wrong, isn¡¯t it. This is where everything¡­

    Thump. Thump thump.

    With a snort of disinterest, the bloodbeast turns towards the dead jackhorn laying in the middle of the clearing, thudding up to it and sniffing it.

    It¡¯s completely outside the cave, but only just. It¡¯s so big that I could probably make that jump even without my wings¡¯ help. Not that I want to try that, your help is always appreciated, wings.

    With the beast¡¯s attention now focused on bait, Johnny and Rob move into position, scattering their sacks full of golden caltrops into the mud. There¡¯s no quiet way to spread caltrops, even on mud, but the bloodbeast doesn¡¯t seem to care. That¡¯s phase one.

    Phase two is where it really begins. If we¡¯re lucky, the bloodbeast will rear up on its hind legs, giving Rann the chance to spear its throat. If that doesn¡¯t happen, we just keep it still long enough for me to get on its back.

    The four archers creep out from behind their cover, bows drawn, ready for the signal. Despite how visible they are, the bloodbeast really doesn¡¯t give a damn, just like Rann said. It barely even registers us as living things, let alone food.

    ¡°Now!¡± Rann calls.

    Four arrows whizz through the air, straight for the bloodbeast¡¯s head.

    One misses.

    Two more hit its head, bouncing harmlessly off its cheekbones.

    The fourth and final arrow hits its upper neck, looking like a twig stuck in the mud.

    The bloodbeast¡¯s only response is the loud crunch as it eats the dead jackhorn¡¯s head, its massive teeth crushing the skull to dust. There¡¯s a painful moment of hesitation, as our first attack fails to even get our quarrey¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Again. Einar, aim for its eye. The rest of you, shoot for its throat.¡± Rann calmly orders, and the four archers nock, draw¡­

    Einar¡¯s arrow finds its mark, hitting the beast square in its right eye.

    What immediately followed was a roar, so loud and deep and guttural that even the lifeless trees shake in paralysing fear.

    The beast growls, swiping at the side of its head, snapping the arrow shaft lodged in its eye socket, but failing to claw it out as dark red blood runs down its cheek.

    ¡°Now we¡¯ve got your attention¡­¡± Rann yells, advancing on the beast with his spear in hand. ¡°Rob! John! Bolas!¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah, I heard ya!¡± Johnny yells back, flinging the spiked bola towards the bear¡¯s hind leg, wrapping around it and digging into its flesh.

    The beast kicks its hind leg with such force the displacement of air pushes Johnny backwards, nearly over into the mud before he regains his footing. Seizing the moment, Rob launches his bolas at the beast¡¯s raised foot, a spike digging in between its blackened paw pads just before it puts its foot down, its own weight driving it further into its flesh, drawing a louder, longer growl from it that shakes every tree, bush and leaf around us.

    It looks back over its shoulder, starting to turn to face Rob and Johnny who step back hastily, grabbing their spears as more arrows plink off its head.

    ¡°Eyes on me, bloodbeast!¡± Rann yells, driving his spear forward, cutting a deep gash into the beast¡¯s neck.

    The beast responds with a roar so loud every living thing in the Abyss must have heard it. It was not the ear-splitting screech of the carrion hawk that made your toes curl and your stomach churn, no. This was a roar that swallowed everything in its guttural embrace. Your ears, your head, your bones, everything shook, everything gave in and submitted as if that roar was the only thing in the universe, and that all else must kneel to it. A wordless declaration of superiority and intent that reached your very core and spoke, no, commanded a part of you so deep and primal that it needed no words to convey its message. This was the king, the apex predator of the Abyss, the very top of the food chain, and all else, even you, were its prey.

    And it was angry.

    Which is just what we wanted.

    Rann pulled his spear free just as the beast¡¯s paw came crashing down to smash it to splinters. Its strength was terrifying, but it was cumbersome. This was a young one, after all, one that hadn¡¯t fully come to understand its own ability.

    Rann drove his spear towards the beast¡¯s head again, cutting another gash in its cheek. The wounds were minor and superficial, but these weren¡¯t meant as the killing blow. The four archers kept firing off sporadically; they couldn¡¯t kill it with arrows alone, but they could annoy the hell out of it. It tried to backpedal, but the caltrops together with Johnny and Rob¡¯s spears stopped it in its tracks every time. Soon, as the plan goes, it¡¯ll get angry, go back up on its hind legs, and¡­

    With another roar, less bone-shakingly loud but still loud enough that it¡¯s all that I can hear, ringing in my ears for several seconds after it actually ends. It pushes itself up onto its hind legs, standing so tall its head is now above mine. On all fours it looked like a bear, but standing up it looks oddly more¡­ human shaped, with the proportions and positions of its forelegs. In the brief moment that it stood up, towering above even me atop the hill, I only had one strange thought on my mind.

    How the fuck is that supposed to fit on the sled?

    That thought quickly vacates my mind as I realise this is the final step. It¡¯s up on its hind legs, just where we want it. It¡¯ll swipe down, and when it does-

    The beast moves before I finish my thought, lunging downwards at Rann, his bearspear held up and aimed perfectly for its throat. With all its weight, the bloodbeast comes crashing down on him, impaling its throat on the spearhead, growling in pain as the cross-halt hits its skin.

    Then, a snap. The sound of wood splitting, splintering, and breaking.

    The beast awkwardly drops onto its legs, pawing at its throat as it coughs up its own blood. Rann disappeared beneath it as it came down; a few of us cried his name as the beast dropped on top of him. His spear broke. His spear broke and now bloodbeast is on top of him.

    Rann may be dead, but this was my moment to act. It was the only thought in my mind, as I briefly realised I was already in the air.

    It was the spray of blood on my face¡­ really, all over my torso that pulled me back to reality.

    I was up higher in the air than I¡¯d ever been before. I could probably see above the trees if I looked, but my focus was entirely fixed on my target. I descended like a hawk, keeping my feet spread, and the spearhead aimed at the beast¡¯s neck. I landed on its shoulders, putting all my strength and momentum into the spear. It pierced its skin, drove deep into its neck, so hard even the crosshalt went into through its flesh - then, I felt something break, and the bloodbeast collapsed lifelessly onto the ground. It was only after I slightly moved the spear that a torrent of blood sprayed up at me, pulling me out of my hyper-focused state.

    It¡¯s dead.

    So Rann¡­

    ¡°Rann!!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Marina. Good job.¡± Rann chuckles.

    I look up at him - he¡¯d managed to pull himself out from under the beast before it collapsed, but not without getting mud all over his arms, as he stands up. Relieved, I sink down, sitting across the slain animal¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t expect the damn spear to break. Good thing we had you.¡± He smiles a little, walking around beside the beast to inspect the deep gash I¡¯d cut into its neck, blood still pouring from the wound onto the ground below. ¡°So, how do you feel?¡±

    ¡°How do I- AAGGHHH!¡±

    A searing pain shoots through my side, originating from my upper thigh. Einar, standing opposite of Rann, holds an arrow in his hand, the tip covered in blood - my blood. I hadn¡¯t even felt it hit me, but now that the adrenaline had worn off, I sure could feel it.

    ¡°When the fuck did¡­ ow ow ow ow owww¡­¡±

    ¡°Han.¡± Einar sighs, grabbing some loose cloth from his pocket and pressing it over my wound. ¡°Hold this. Firmly.¡±

    I take hold of the cloth and keep it firm against my wound, gritting my teeth from the pain.

    Han is pushed towards me by Einar, sheepishly holding his bow behind his back, unable to look at my face.

    ¡°A-ah¡­ I¡¯m really sorry, Marina, really, really sorry¡­¡± He says, his voice shaky.

    ¡°Ghhh¡­ It¡¯s fine, I didn¡¯t expect to move that fast.¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah¡­ haha¡­ hah¡­¡± Han briefly looks up at me, before quickly averting his gaze.

    What, is there something on my face? Am I injured somewhere else?

    ¡°Anyone have a spare cloth for Marina¡¯s face?¡± Rann asks. Arshiya steps forward, offering a rather delicate looking handkerchief. Rann raises his eyebrow, but Arshiya smiles, so he hands it up to me.

    Looking down over myself, my entire front is just coated with blood. My face is probably in a similar state. My wings also shake themselves off, trying to flick away the blood spray that got on them.

    ¡°Rann.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± He responds, leaning down to take a look at the dead beast¡¯s head, inspecting the wounds along its face.

    ¡°How do I look?¡±

    He looks up at me, unflappable as always. Especially for someone who nearly got crushed by a several-tonne bear.

    ¡°With your eyes.¡±

    ¡°No I meant-¡±

    ¡°Also, like you murdered an entire village. Clean your face up after your wound is seen to.¡± He says, walking towards the sled near the edge of the clearing.

    ¡°Hold still.¡± Einar says, starting to wrap a bandage around my leg, pressing the cloth against my wound to stem the blood flow.

    I trace a finger along my cheek. Huh. I really do have blood all over my face.

    ¡°There. That will hold.¡± Einar pats my leg. It hurts like hell, but at least I won¡¯t bleed out just yet.

    I manage to lift my leg over the beast¡¯s neck, sliding off and standing up beside it¡­ shakily, with the pain from my leg. Still, I¡¯m standing.

    Next to the giant bear-thing I killed.

    ¡°How in hell do we get this thing onto the sled¡­¡± Johnny mumbles, standing beside me.

    ¡°I was wondering that too¡­¡± I mutter, looking at Johnny.

    Johnny steps back slightly, before sighing and walking past me.

    ¡°Clean your face already. You look like you murdered a whole village.¡± He comments.

    Right, I should do that. Feels like a waste to use this handkerchief for this, but I don¡¯t want dried blood all over my face.

    It looks like I managed to snap its spine by fitting my spear between the vertebrates. A lucky strike, hitting the perfect spot. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m quite skilled enough with a spear or knowledgeable enough of the anatomy of a bloodbeast to have done that intentionally. That¡¯s two big animal kills for me, and this one we might just get to eat. I¡¯m better at hunting than I thought I would be.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Marina¡­¡± Han mumbles, standing beside me.

    ¡°Yes?¡± I turn to look at him, and he steps back, almost startled.

    ¡°I-I really am sorry for hitting you with an arrow, and, um, you¡¯re still on our side, right?¡± He sputters out, taking another step back.

    ¡°Still on¡­ of course I am. Why would that change?¡±

    ¡°Stop panicking and help bring the sled over, boy. Marina¡¯s not going to kill you.¡± Einar says, as Han quickly turns to go help Johnny and Rann bring the sled over.

    ¡°You said my name, Einar!¡± He did! He finally said my name!

    ¡°And you, girl. Your leg¡¯s fine, grab the nets.¡± He grunts at me, turning to help with the sled.

    Oh. Okay then.

    Han, Johnny and Rann bring the sled up in front of the bloodbeast. It looks wide enough to fit the beast, but definitely not long enough. As Einar said, I go over and grab the nets, as Han sheepishly grabs the other corner of them.

    ¡°Einar, John, Rob. Help me get this thing on its side. The twins are gathering the arrows. We tie its legs, get it on the sled and secured by the net.¡± Rann orders.

    ¡°Should we be leavin¡¯ all these golden caltrops in the mud? Ain¡¯t they valuable?¡± Johnny asks.

    ¡°Clap three times.¡± Rann smiles slightly, throwing some rope over his shoulder and moving to beside the bloodbeast.

    ¡°Clap three¡­ okay, sure.¡± Johnny rolls his eyes, half-heartedly clapping three times - on the third clap, all the caltrops disappear with a flash. ¡°What the?!¡±

    ¡°Saves time.¡± Einar grunts, walking over to the beast.

    The four men push the carcass with a loud grunt, managing to roll it onto its side, showing the broken spear stuck in its throat.

    Rann leans in to inspect the broken spear, trying to pull it free from the beast¡¯s throat - to no avail.

    ¡°Rann, you wanna tell us how exactly you got out from under this thing? Could have sworn we saw you vanish completely beneath it.¡± Johnny asks, grabbing the rope.

    ¡°The spear broke, but it still left enough room under it for me to wiggle out. Ingrid¡¯s going to give me an earful about this, though¡­¡± He sighs, starting to wrap rope around the beast¡¯s front legs.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like she made them. Only one broken weapon¡¯s a good turnout for a hunting trip.¡± Rob mutters, helping Johnny tie up the rear legs.

    ¡°Won¡¯t change the earful I get.¡± Rann says, pulling the rope around the front legs tight. ¡°Right. Back onto its stomach, then the nets over it.¡±

    With another loud number of grunts, the four get the beast back on its stomach. Han and I pull the net over it, tying it to the rope around its hind legs, pulling it tight to get the beast¡¯s body as small as possible to fit it on the sled.

    With the net secured around it, Rann, Einar, Johnny and Robb each grab ropes, trying to pull the carcass onto the sled.

    It moves a few inches through the mud, only after a great amount of effort expended, before Rann sighs, wiping the sweat from his brow.

    ¡°All of you, get up here and help get this damn oversized bear on the damn sled.¡± He says, panting quietly.

    With a look, now all of us are on the sled, straining and pulling as hard as we can on ropes to get this damn stupid oversized bear on this damn sled. Eventually, after enough sweat, grit, and swearing, we pull it onto the sled, half of us falling into the mud from exhaustion once it¡¯s secured to it.

    ¡°Falian¡¯s damn¡­ ugh¡­ Who¡¯s on sled duty?¡± Johnny grunts, rubbing his shoulder.

    ¡°Rob and I. Come on, let¡¯s get this back home. We¡¯re having the best damn cuts and the finest damn furs when we return!¡± Rann calls, met by a chorus of cheers.

    The journey home was blissfully uneventful. We made our way back through camp, along the edge of the woods near the stonefields, then back down the gradual downhill slope of the seeping wound. We were all exhausted and filthy, but the lot of us were positively drooling over the thought of tasting meat after so long without it.

    I, for one, was coated with blood on my front, and wounded in my leg, which was thankfully minor. Arshak and Arshiya, who technically didn¡¯t have to pull the sled but helped keep it steady on the way back, had mud all over their arms from fishing arrows out of the mud. Lucky for them, they found every last one, saving them from a haranguing by the irritable blacksmith. Rann was knocked over into the mud both ways, and his pants were caked in it. Rob, Einar and Johnny had all worked up a sweat, while Han sheepishly followed along behind the sled, feeling bad for accidentally wounding me no matter how many times I accepted his apologies.

    I had one worry, though, that no one else shared. When the bloodbeast roared, I worried about the attention it would attract. Nothing came for us while we were loading it onto the sled, and no other noises were heard as we made our way back. Still, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was tailing us. I had raised that concern, and Einar and the twins had spread out to make sure we weren¡¯t being followed. They found nothing, but I couldn¡¯t shake that feeling.

    I never saw or heard anything myself, I just¡­ had that feeling, that hunch. That tingle on the back of my neck. Something was following us, but it was keeping its distance, always slinking away when I felt it was close, then slowly creeping back in. Whatever it was, though, it never tried to stop us or intercept us, it just watched us. All the way down the seeping wound.

    Once we turned off from the seeping wound though, it seemed to vanish. Before long, we were back outside the gates of Haven, several yells and cheers of joy sounding as the town gates opened.

    We were home.

 Chapter Sixteen

    The few cheers of joy were quickly extinguished by the hushing of the gate guards as the gates rumbled open as wide as they could. Every resident of Haven was gathered by the gates, lining both sides of the road, clearing the way as we started to drag and push the sled through the gates onto the main street. The crowd could only watch in silent awe as the lifeless mountain of flesh and fur that was the bloodbeast, barely fitting atop the sled and nearly as big as the surrounding buildings, was pulled into town, eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the road in front of the armoury.

    With all eight of us now back inside the village, the gates began to close behind us. A few people shot some worried or horrified looks at me, covered in blood as I was, but everyone¡¯s eyes were on the bloodbeast. At the head of the crowd, standing in front of the beast, were the four members of Haven¡¯s council that stayed in Haven after Rann set off with the expedition team. They watched on in silence as the gates thumped and groaned against each other, coming to rest.

    The Chief, holding her staff, stepped forward, as Rann and Rob stepped to the sides, with Rann beside me. She places her hand on the bloodbeast¡¯s nose, looking up at it.

    Then, Anton and Tiff came forward, standing either side of the Chief, glancing up and down it.

    Finally, the Chief took her hand off it, giving a look to both Anton and Tiff. ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s young, and looks rather healthy, notwithstanding the spear in its neck.¡± Anton nods.

    ¡°It looks softer than I expected¡­ and cleaner, too. We could cover an entire house with this much fur.¡± Tiff smiles, nodding to the Chief.

    ¡°Good.¡± The Chief nods, looking at Rann. ¡°Weapons?¡±

    ¡°Every arrow accounted for. The caltrops were dispelled after we were done with it. The weapons are mostly fine.¡± Rann responds.

    ¡°Mostly?¡± Ingrid says, suddenly pushing her way past Tiff and the Chief. ¡°I see one bear spear¡¯s still inside the bear. Where¡¯s the other one?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Here.¡± Rann hands Ingrid the splintered half of his bear spear¡¯s shaft. Ingrid looks almost beside herself in shock.

    ¡°How¡­ this wood had turned as hard as steel, how did-¡± Ingrid starts, clutching the broken spear.

    ¡°Bloodbeast sat on it.¡± Rann shrugs lightly.

    ¡°Sat on it?!¡± She practically spits out.

    ¡°Well, fell on it. Stopped it from falling on me, though.¡± Rann nods thoughtfully, thanking the spear for its sacrifice.

    ¡°You can fix it, Ingrid. Any injuries? Are you going to explain why Marina¡¯s covered in blood?¡± The Chief dismisses Ingrid¡¯s flabbergasted complaints, turning to look at me. I am uh¡­ yeah, covered in dry blood now.

    ¡°It¡¯s the beast¡¯s blood, mostly. The gate guard boy hit Marina with an arrow. It¡¯s a minor wound. No one else was hurt.¡± Einar cuts in before Rann can answer. Rann just nods in agreement.

    ¡°The gate¡­ Han hit Marina with an arrow?¡± The Chief repeats. Han was trying his hardest to pretend he didn¡¯t exist, before Einar grabbed his arm and pulled him forwards.

    ¡°I-I¡­ it was an accident, Chief, I swear¡­¡± Han stammers out, falling over his own words.

    ¡°Accidents happen. Work on your aim. Anything else to report?¡± The Chief brushes off Han¡¯s fear, looking back at Rann.

    ¡°Other than a job well done, that¡¯s everything.¡± Rann answers.

    The Chief takes another look over us, the bloodbeast, and the whispering, restless crowd around us. She stamps her staff once on the ground, commanding attention to her. She glances up at the spear lodged in the bloodbeast¡¯s neck, then looks across at me.

    ¡°I take it that was your handiwork, Marina.¡± She states, as everyone¡¯s eyes focus on me.

    All I can do is nod my head. She smiles, turning to face the crowd to address them.

    ¡°Anton, Tiff, get the butchers, tailors, tanner, and whomever else you need. In the coming weeks, everyone¡¯s getting fur clothing, and tonight, we all feast on bloodbeast steak!¡± She orders, and is met with uproarious applause and cheers.

    The crowd surges forward, wrapping around the bloodbeast. Every able-bodied man and woman moved behind it, pushing it up the street towards the markets. Children excitedly run up to and around it, touching the great and terrible beast¡¯s fur with their tiny hands. A few try to climb it, before being scolded by the older women keeping an eye on them. Those that didn¡¯t gather around the bloodbeast instead moved to congratulate the expedition team members, slapping them on the back, hugging them, shaking hands, throwing arms over their shoulders, giving them the hero¡¯s welcome.

    I could understand no one really wanting to approach me, given I look like I¡¯ve murdered an entire village. I need to wash myself off. I¡¯m heading straight to the baths¡­

    ¡°Marina!!¡± Two boys, looking in their late teens, jump out in front of me with big smiles on their faces, with Han coming up behind them. Wait, if Han¡¯s with them, then¡­

    ¡°Max? Kazuma?¡±

    ¡°Was it really you? Did you kill the bloodbeast?¡± The one with green eyes asks¡­ Max. Yeah, Max was the one with green eyes.

    ¡°It was a group effort, I just got the killing blow. It took everyone doing their absolute best to bring it down.¡± Be humble, Marina.

    ¡°It was you that lodged that spear in its neck, right?¡± The other one asks. If green eyes is Max, then this is Kazuma. I hope I¡¯m not getting them mixed up.

    ¡°Well¡­ yes, but Rann had speared its throat, so it was already dying.¡±

    ¡°You got the killing blow, though! On the bloodbeast and the carrion hawk!¡± Max exclaims.

    ¡°She¡¯s like¡­ a beast slayer! Marina the beast slayer!¡± Han calls.

    ¡°Han, you SHOT her. Don¡¯t pretend that didn¡¯t happen!¡± Kazuma scorns Han, who shrinks back behind them.

    ¡°It has a nice ring, though. Marina the beast slayer. Marina the beast slayer!¡± Max calls.

    ¡°Yeah, it does. Marina the beast slayer!¡± Kazuma joins in.

    ¡°Marina the beast slayer! Marina the beast slayer!¡± More voices call.

    The crowd has quite suddenly gathered around me, as Max and Kazuma lift me up on their shoulders, all cheering my name.

    ¡°Marina the beast slayer! Marina the beast slayer! Marina the beast slayer!¡±

    This¡­ This is¡­

    This is nice. I could get used to¡ª

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    Max¡¯s hand brushes against the wound on my thigh, sending a jolt of pain through me. In response, my wings fly out from under my cloak to their full length, startling everyone around me and making Max and Kazuma drop me to the ground, landing square on my butt in the mud.

    Ow.

    ¡°Marina! What in this hell do you idiots think you¡¯re doing picking her up like that? She¡¯s injured, get her back up! Tiff, go clean her up!¡± The Chief pushes through the crowd, with Tiff following closely behind her.

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get you washed up and in some clean, warm clothes~¡± Tiff helps me back onto my feet, guiding me through the crowd. I¡¯m steady enough on my feet, but my leg¡¯s been throbbing with dull pain the whole way back.

    ¡°Clean clothes, though..? I only have one shirt¡­¡± Which is kind of an issue, given I¡¯m the only one here with wings.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that~ Let¡¯s just get you into a nice warm bath, mmhm~?¡± Tiff smiles, disarmingly as always.

    A warm bath¡­ I could just melt into a warm bath.. ehehe¡­

    Tiff leads me up and around the corner, down Crystal Road, past the Chief¡¯s residence and library and the schoolhouse, bringing me up to the front door of an ordinary-looking two-story house on the other side of the schoolhouse.

    ¡°Oh¡­ is this your house, Tiff? I thought we were going to the secret baths¡­¡±

    ¡°You need your wound seen too first, and you need a proper clean and wash. You¡¯ve more than earned the right to some relaxation today.¡± Tiff opens the door, bringing me into her home.

    The ground floor of her home is the picture-perfect rendition of a cosy countryside cottage. A single room, with a large fireplace at the far end, with a large, old leather couch in front of it, and two more leather armchairs forming a semicircle around the fireplace. A corner of the room by the fireplace is sectioned off with a partition wall, while the other far corner is taken up by the stairs leading to the first floor. Every couch and armchair is adorned with cushions of all different designs, with a large rug in front of the fireplace, and from every window hangs uniquely coloured and patterned curtains.

    Next to the partition wall is a large table, covered with loose fabrics, threads, and all the tools needed for knitting, sewing, and tailoring. Above the table hangs a black, cast-iron lamp with a glowing white orb within it, casting a pleasant soft light across the room in contrast to the warm orange glow from the fireplace. I¡¯ve seen something like that before. My father had one, hanging from the ceiling in the main workroom back home. It was part of the payment he received from a particularly wealthy client.

    ¡°... Is that a daylight lamp?¡±

    ¡°How did you manage to point out the one thing in this room I didn¡¯t make?¡± Tiff pouts, sounding a little hurt.

    ¡°You made everything else? Even the couches?¡±

    ¡°Well, I fixed the couches. The cushions, the curtains, the rug, everything is hand-made, crafted, and repaired by yours truly~¡± Tiff smiles, proudly putting her hand on her chest.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were this talented, Tiff.¡±

    ¡°I am the head craftswoman, after all. The tailors, the tanner, the blacksmith, they all chose me to represent them on the council after Yvonne, who¡¯s now the teacher next door, stepped down. Now, let¡¯s get those boots off, you¡¯re not tracking mud over my nice rug.¡± Tiff sits me down on the bench by her door. ¡°Once they¡¯re off, come over behind the partition.¡±

    Following her directions, I manage to pull my mud-caked boots off, leaving them by the door. Even just having them on for more than a day, my feet feel clammy and definitely in need of a wash. Now with my shoes off, I walk across the room, rounding the partition wall to find Tiff sitting on a stool next to a wooden tub filled with steaming, clear water.

    ¡°Ah, good. Come sit down here and get comfy so I can take a look at that wound.¡± Tiff smiles up at me, patting the bench beside her against the partition wall.

    I sit on the bench, being careful not to lean back too much against the partition lest I knock it over. Tiff scooches up beside me, undoing the bandage on my leg, carefully taking it off. The bandage is soaked through with blood, but¡­

    ¡°Hmm¡­ It¡¯s not serious, but it looks like it¡¯s reopened several times on your walk back. We¡¯ll get it cleaned up and bandaged up, then you can have your bath~¡± Tiff smiles, undoing the button on my pants.

    On my¡­

    ¡°W-wait, wait, I can take off my pants myself!¡± I splutter, hastily grabbing the waistband of my pants before Tiff starts pulling them down.

    ¡°Marinaaaa¡­ I can¡¯t clean it properly with your pants on.¡± She pouts a little for added effect.

    ¡°I-I know that, just¡­ I¡¯m perfectly capable of undressing myself¡­¡± I huff.

    Tiff just takes her hands off and smiles at me. Fine. I¡¯m wearing underpants, at least. I pull my pants down, having to wiggle it a bit to get it off around my shins where the mud from my boots has hardened. Gods, after wearing these for two days, it feels so good having them off¡­

    ¡°Hmm¡­ quite well-fitted¡­¡± Tiff mumbles to herself, tugging at my boyshort-style panties-

    ¡°Hey!!¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just always curious about clothes I¡¯ve never seen before~ Now¡­¡± Tiff turns to the side, dipping a cloth in the steaming bath water, rubbing an off-white block of soap against it.

    She starts wiping off my wound, cleaning the blood and dirt from it. The soap stings a little¡­

    ¡°Say, Tiff¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, Marina?¡± She responds, focusing on cleaning off the wound.

    ¡°How am I supposed to have a bath if I¡¯ll have a bandage on my leg? It¡¯s kinda too far up for me to just hang my leg out the tub.¡±

    ¡°Ah~...¡± She smiles, turning and grabbing something off the bench beside her.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    She holds a piece of paper up to my leg, checking the size against my injury, before applying something sticky to the paper, pressing it flat against my skin and holding it down long enough that it sticks when she takes her hands away. Touching it, it feels like¡­ baking paper, kinda? Or maybe parchment?

    ¡°This should keep the water off while you¡¯re in the bath. Anton called it parchment paper. He uses it for baking, but it¡¯s good for keeping wounds dry and covered, too.¡± She says, standing up and checking the temperature of the bath water.

    ¡°Did Anton tell you to mix some alcohol in with the soap, too¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes, actually¡­ I¡¯m surprised you knew that. He said it was a recent discovery in his time. It helps prevent wounds from turning foul.¡± She says, turning to face me again. ¡°I assume you won¡¯t be bathing with your cloak on.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    Slightly embarrassed, I unlatch my cloak, letting my wings slide out of it as I place the cloak beside me on the bench. My wings stay close to my sides, also trying not to accidentally knock the partition wall over.

    By now, I¡¯ve mostly gotten used to unbuttoning this shirt. It feels a bit odd having a button-up shirt with the buttons on the front and back, but it¡¯s the only way that one can wear a shirt when they have wings.

    ¡°Marina.¡± Tiff says.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Arms up.¡± She smiles.

    ¡°Yes¡­?¡± I hold my arms up.

    ¡°And off we go~¡± She takes my shirt by the hem, deftly pulling it up, over my head and off in one swift motion.

    ¡°Wh- Tiff!!¡±

    ¡°This needs a wash, silly~ You can take off the rest and hop in the bath, I¡¯ll be back with you in a moment.¡± Tiff grins, walking around the partition to give me a moment of privacy.

    Ugh¡­ my undershirt is covered in blood, too. It¡¯s going to be such a pain to wash out.

    At least it¡¯s not my blood.

    I strip down, placing my undergarments as neatly as I can on the bench before dipping a toe in the bath.

    And I have never gotten in a bathtub so quickly in my life.

    The water is at that point between warm and on the verge of being so hot it hurts where it¡¯s just, perfect. The tub is big and deep enough that I can sit in it with my legs crossed and I¡¯m submerged up to my shoulders with my wings curled around the inside of the tub, or I can have my arms on the sides and lay my head back with my wings hanging out. Gods, I didn¡¯t know how much I¡¯d miss baths after just one day without them. I¡¯ve been kicked into the mud plenty of times during my stay here, but I could always wash off afterwards. After two days of marching and getting completely drenched in blood, I needed this. I needed this.

    ¡°You wasted no time in making yourself comfortable.¡± Tiff smiles down at me, resting her hands on my shoulders.

    I shudder, slightly, the sheer relaxing effect of the bath putting me at too much ease to jolt upright at Tiff suddenly appearing behind me. I didn¡¯t notice her come back around or sit down behind me.

    ¡°Oooh, looks like I got the jump on you this time?¡± She grins.

    ¡°Normally my wings have their way of letting me know when someone¡¯s sneaking up on me...¡±

    ¡°Then it sounds like they¡¯ve settled in nicely too~¡± She says, stroking her hands along the top of my wings.

    I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s what she said. I was too busy melting into the tub at the strange but immensely satisfying feeling of having my wings stroked. It¡¯s a completely alien experience, yet it evokes the same mind-numbingly-pleasing sensation of someone getting their fingers in your hair and rubbing and scratching your scalp. Like something reaches that primal part of your brain that just turns you into jelly and you drop all inhibitions and shame and just enjoy the feeling.

    Returning to Haven after two days beyond its walls have made me appreciate one thing more than anything else. This bathtub was filled with clean water, straight from Crystal Fall. My journey with the expedition team put one thing into stark perspective; there¡¯s no clean water in the Abyss. Everywhere you go, the puddles, the streams, even the rain itself, has dark reddy-brown tinge, making it easy to guess how it¡¯ll taste; metallic, dirty, and unpleasant. We had cloth drinking pouches that could filter the water somewhat, but you can never get rid of the iron-heavy taste. Trying to wash yourself with that water¡¯s an exercise in futility, no matter how much soap you use.

    I somewhat notice the feeling of Tiff putting something slightly floral-scented in my hair, starting to lather it through.

    ¡°Ooh¡­ A hair wash, too?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to keep that dried blood in your hair, do you?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°No, just¡­ Lucky me, getting the full Tiffany bath experience~¡±

    ¡°Were you hoping for a happy ending?¡± Tiff peers down at me, a coy smile on her lips.

    I only let out a muffled squeak of surprise, while my wings, equally caught off-guard, jerk upwards and¡­ puff out all fluffy-like.

    ¡°Pfff¡­ hahahaha~ Your wings¡­¡± Tiff breaks out laughing, a joyous, honest laugh at my embarrassed reaction.

    ¡°Tease¡­¡± I swear. Is it just Tiff being herself, or is there something about me that makes people tease me like this?

    ¡°How could I resist when your reactions are always so cute~¡± She giggles, filling a small bucket with water and starting to rinse my hair.

    ¡°Hmpf¡­¡± I sink down as far into the water as my wings allow me.

    I sat in silence, enjoying the hairwash as Tiff hums a soft tune to herself. The warm water and her gentle touch let me finally start to relax and unwind. It¡¯s funny, in a way. The bloodbeast died a lot faster than the carrion hawk did. By dumb luck, I drove my spear right through the disk between its vertebrae, severing its spine and killing it almost instantly. The hawk was a gangly, sickly-looking creature, yet it struggled and thrashed against me right up to its last breath. The beast just dropped dead. It probably didn¡¯t even get a second to realise what had happened to it.

    ¡°You did good out there, Marina.¡± Tiff says, putting her hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°I had the easy part¡­ I¡¯m not the one that nearly got flattened by the bloodbeast.¡±

    ¡°You had the part only you could do. Rann would have never considered such a thing in the first place if he didn¡¯t trust that you could do your part. He has faith in you.¡±

    ¡°He has strange ways of showing it¡­¡±

    ¡°He agreed that the hunt would only go ahead if you proved you could do what you needed to do. You proved him right. And now, thanks to you, him, and the rest of the expedition team, we¡¯ll feast like royals tonight.¡±

    ¡°Do I get to choose what I want made from its fur for me?¡±

    ¡°Actually, speaking of new clothes¡­¡± She stands up, walking around past the partition.

    ¡°New clothes?¡±

    ¡°Tada~¡± Tiff walks back behind the partition, holding a white linen shirt in one hand and brown leather pants in the other.

    ¡°... Wait, new clothes for me?!¡±

    ¡°Who else would need a shirt like this?¡± She turns the shirt around, showing its back; a portion of the upper back is cut out, and the shirt is secured with corset-like lacing at the back.

    ¡°And leather pants? I thought we were short on leather¡­¡±

    ¡°I always keep a stockpile of fabrics, threads and leather for emergency situations. It just so happens that we¡¯ve got a new, bountiful source of leather today, and I couldn¡¯t let Marina the Beast Slayer spend her whole life living in the same shirt and pair of pants, could I? Now~¡± She grins, hanging the shirt and pants over the partition wall before walking back around behind me, kneeling down behind me.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get you dried off and dressed in them, shall we?¡± She whispers, right in my ear.

    ¡°... Could you give me some privacy so I could do that?¡± I respond, trying my hardest to keep my cool in the face of her teasing.

    ¡°Nope~¡± She wraps her arms around my chest, reaching under my wings.

    ¡°... Tiff.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon, I wanna see you wear them!¡±

    ¡°Tiff.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll dry faster with me helping, c¡¯mon~¡±

    ¡°Tiff!!¡±

    When it comes down to it, this woman is far stronger than she looks, and isn¡¯t afraid to make use of that to get her way. She did help dry me off quicker than I would have on my own, though, so I¡¯ll give her that.

    ¡­

    ¡°Hmm. They look quite well-fitting, Tiffany. Do they feel well-fit, Marina?¡± The Chief asks, examining my new clothes.

    ¡°They fit really well. I couldn¡¯t have asked for anything better.¡±

    The Chief had arrived at Tiff¡¯s residence, thankfully after the commotion Tiff caused by insisting that she had to help me get dressed.

    She really did a good job on the clothes, though. The pants are comfortable, snug, but not too tight or restrictive, and the shirt¡­ I¡¯m impressed she figured out how to accommodate my wings on her first attempt at making a shirt for me. The lace at the back makes it a lot easier to adjust than my other shirt is with its buttons. It¡¯s soft, comfortable, breathable, and fits around my wings perfectly.

    ¡°If you two are dressed and ready, then the feast is waiting on you two to arrive.¡± The Chief says.

    ¡°Eh? So soon?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°The bloodbeast had barely made it to the market square before the kitchen staff pounced on it. They insist that all the expedition team and the guest of honour are to be the first to taste what they¡¯ve made.¡± The Chief answers, smiling. ¡°The guest of honour being you, Marina.¡±

    Tiff and I exchange a look.

    ¡°Come on, then! The sooner you eat, the sooner I eat!¡± Tiff jumps up from her chair, pushing me towards the door.

    After hastily getting in my boots and throwing my cloak on, the three of us headed out the door. As we made our way up the road, it was apparent that most of the village had already gathered in or around the Last Drop. Tables had been set up outside under the balcony, from which the older villagers kept an eye on the children playing in the street. The music of drums and woodwinds came from within the tavern, carried above the clamour and excitement of the villagers. As we drew closer, we could hear what they were saying, or rather, chanting:

    ¡°Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s safe in there?¡± It sounds like they¡¯re preparing to sacrifice something¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been half a year without fresh meat in Haven. I¡¯ll let them have their fun.¡± The Chief says, before pushing the door open.

    Immediately, the crowd inside turns to face the doorway, seeing the Chief, Tiff, and I enter. Their cheers and chants grow louder, stomping their feet on the floor for added effect.

    ¡°Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright! Calm down!¡± The Chief orders, stamping her staff on the floor once.

    The chanting ceases, but excited murmurs and whispers are still audible as the Chief made her way up to the elevated table at the far end of the tavern.

    Indeed, for the celebration, the tavern¡¯s interior had been reorganised, the tables pushed together and benches brought out to form three long dining tables, each already topped with wooden plates, bread, and tankards galore. The elevated stage has a table placed on it, behind it sitting Vann and Rann. The Chief takes her seat in the middle of the table, while Tiff hurries me along to sit at the head of the dining table in the middle, before disappearing into the kitchen.

    ¡°Sheesh, took ya long enough, Feathers.¡± Johnny says.

    Beside and across from me at the head of the table are the other six expedition members, with Johnny, Rob and Einar sitting across from me, and Arshak, Arshiya, and Han on my side, with Arshiya seated right next to me.

    ¡°Are these new clothes, Marina?¡± Arshiya asks, touching my sleeve.

    ¡°Mmhm. Tiff made them for me.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s the, um¡­ wound, Marina?¡± Han asks, peering past Arshiya and Arshak to look at me.

    ¡°Tiff washed it off and patched it up. She says it¡¯ll fully heal in time.¡±

    ¡°Mended by Tiff, new clothes made by Tiff, is Tiff gonna tuck you into bed too, Feathers?¡± Johnny jeers.

    ¡°You sound jealous.¡± Arshiya comments, looking across at Johnny.

    ¡°Jealous?! Why the hells-¡± Johnny starts, before the clamour and cheers of the townsfolk rise again, as the kitchen staff start bringing out tonight¡¯s main course, lining up along the sidewall as Anton steps up on the stage.

    As the smell of roast meat starts filling the room, Anton takes a small piece of paper from his front pocket, glancing out over his audience, all salivating and chomping at the bit.

    ¡°Tonight¡¯s dinner,¡± He pauses, taking a cursory glance at the expedition team seated front and centre, ¡°Courtesy of the recent efforts of the expedition team, are as follows:¡±

    ¡°A bloodbeast stew, prepared with various roast root vegetables-¡± He begins to read.

    ¡°But plenty of meat, right?¡± Someone interrupts.

    ¡°Yes, plenty of meat.¡± Anton clarifies, and the crowd cheers.

    ¡°Additionally, there is bloodbeast pie with gravy, and¡­¡± Anton pauses as the crowd cheers again.

    ¡°For our council, and the members of the expedition team, a special bloodbeast steak, with a wolf peach-based sauce.¡±

    ¡°Is it just for them?¡± Another calls.

    ¡°And anyone else who has good standing with the kitchen staff.¡± Anton finishes.

    The cheers rise, as many jump up from their seats, plates and bowls in hands as they beeline for the serving area. Tiff takes her seat up at the council table, as Anton delivers the steak dinners to the lucky few himself.

    ¡°Ahem.¡± The Chief clears her throat, rising to her feet. ¡°Before any semblance of order is lost¡­¡±

    Everyone stops in their place as the Chief raises her voice. Even the servers paused mid-serving.

    Before the Chief can say anything else, though, Anton quietly places her steak dinner before her. She takes one look down at it, then back at her audience.

    ¡°Oh, to hell with the speech, let¡¯s eat.¡± She sighs, sitting back down, as rapacious cheers and hollers fill the room again.

    In the end, there was no speech that night. The cheers, excitement, laughter, singing, and joy were all that was needed to capture the energy of the moment. Nearly sixty people, men, women, young and old, shared stories and feasted on the fruits of their labour. The drinks flowed unceasingly, and every time the stew pot was starting to look empty, a fresh one filled to the brim came out of the kitchen.

    Everyone gave their thanks to every member of the expedition team, including me. I¡¯d gotten so many pats and slaps on the back it started to hurt, but that didn¡¯t change the smile on my face. Everyone was happy, and for the first time, I felt like I was accepted here. That this was now, truly, my home. Technically speaking, I have bled for it. I helped bring them the first meat they¡¯d tasted in half a year.

    Speaking of the meat. The bloodbeast is, for all intents and purposes, a very big bear. I¡¯d read that bear tasted similar to beef or venison, just gamier, and the bloodbeast struck a similar culinary note. I never really knew what a ¡°gamey¡± taste meant until Johnny helpfully explained - livestock meat tastes the same, but hunted game has a unique taste you can¡¯t get from farmed meat. It¡¯s a lot sweeter than I¡¯d expected, but thoroughly enjoyable. It was cooked to that perfect medium rare, and the meat was so tender and juicy it practically melts in your mouth. I¡¯m no expert food critic, but anyone can tell a good steak to a bad steak. The tomato¡­ or rather, wolf peach sauce with it complimented it nicely.

    If this was to be my new life. Living in Haven, helping around town and helping the Chief, going on the occasional hunting trip with Rann. It could be worse. It is a bit of a downgrade from my last life, sure, but a roof over my head, new clothes, good food, clean water, I¡¯ll take it. It¡¯s fortunate the soil here is so incredibly fertile; just without clean water it¡¯s otherwise unusable, and as far as I know Haven is the only place with clean water in the Abyss. Could be worse. Could be far worse.

    I should probably stop thinking about how things could be worse. I don¡¯t want to jinx what have been relatively good fortunes, considering this is supposedly hell. I¡¯m happy with how things are. People are starting to like me, I got new clothes, great food, and things are good. It¡¯s just¡­

    It¡¯s hard to shake that feeling in the back of my mind. That constant wariness that something will happen, something will go wrong. It was a perfectly normal day when that carrion hawk descended on Haven and killed Nate. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was following us most of the way back to Haven. Barring the mysterious old man who seems to come and go as he pleases, I have yet to encounter anyone in the Abyss that isn¡¯t from Haven, and those outside of Haven sound¡­ unkind, to say the least.

    Haven has kept its location a secret for the hundred-odd years of existence. I don¡¯t want that hundred years of peace in solitude to be broken during my time here. As far as I or anyone else knows, there¡¯s only one way in and one way out, through the main gates. Everywhere else is walled or surrounded by impassable cliffs. It¡¯s basically impossible for someone to sneak in, or sneak out. It seems the prisoner policy is that prisoners never leave Haven, they¡¯re just integrated into it, to keep its location a secret. Just like I was.

    If Haven was attacked by a large group, while it is well defended by its terrain, only about a third of the 60-odd people here are actually trained combatants. The other groups I¡¯ve heard of; the Keepsguard, who are few in number but practically wear full plate, and the Bone Breakers, a marauding horde with over a hundred men; all sound like they¡¯d pose a serious threat to Haven, if they found it. And if one of them did follow us back to Haven, if that constant feeling like we were being followed was right¡­

    Ugh, I shouldn¡¯t stress about this so much. I should sleep. I¡¯ll feel better in the morning.

 Chapter Seventeen (Volume 1 END + Character Art!)

    Fire.

    All-consuming.

    Indiscriminate.

    No¡­

    It burns man and monster alike.

    You remember the fire.

    A distant half-memory, yet as real as today.

    Not again¡­

    You remember your skin crackling.

    Your fingers, shrivelled and charred.

    Grasping at the spear driven through your heart.

    Not¡­

    Blood.

    Your blood.

    Your mother¡¯s blood.

    ¡°Marina.¡±

    No¡­

    Your father¡¯s blood.

    Your sisters¡¯ blood.

    ¡°Marina¡­¡±

    No¡­!

    ¡°Marina!¡±

    I jolt upright, one wing awkwardly flopping over the side of the bed, the other hitting the wall hard. Mia is sitting on the far end of my bed, looking across at me.

    ¡°Nightmares again?¡± She asks, gently.

    ¡°The fire and the¡­ Chief¡­?¡±

    I blink a couple times, my eyes still bleary from sleep.

    The Chief looks¡­ different. Her hair is down.

    And she¡¯s wearing probably what is the most delicate outfit in all of Haven; a black, silk and lace gown coming halfway down her thighs, every hem woven with intricate floral patterns from red lace. Compared to her usual outfit, this does nothing to hide¡­ no, it accentuates her curvy, heavenly¡­

    ¡°Marina.¡± She says, snapping me back to attention. If I¡¯m still dreaming, this is nicer than the last one.

    ¡°Y¡­ Yes, sorry¡­¡±

    The Chief sighs quietly, resting her hand on the bed.

    ¡°This happens nearly every night, you know. Sometimes you wake, sometimes you don¡¯t. Your wings thrash against the walls.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the left wing that does that¡­¡±

    ¡°Still. It puts up quite a racket.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, just, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to do about them¡­¡±

    ¡°Dreams of your past life? And how it ended?¡±

    ¡°... Yes.¡±

    ¡°They often happen, especially to those that have recently arrived.¡± She stands up, brushing her long, black hair from her eyes. ¡°Come, let¡¯s talk.¡±

    ¡°Are we not talking here?¡±

    ¡°I left Tiff up in my room, come on.¡±

    I get up, following the Chief from my room, up the stairs to the first floor, then up the stairs to the part of her house I haven¡¯t been in before. The second floor.

    The first room of the second floor opens up as a private study. The chimney opens up to a smaller fireplace than that on the first floor; big enough to warm the small room, but not to illuminate it. The illumination is handled by a cast-iron lamp containing a glowing white orb - a daylight lamp, just like the one in Tiff¡¯s house. The lamp hangs above a large, heavy wooden desk, covered with loose papers and books just like all the other tables in this building.

    ¡°How many daylight lamps are in Haven?¡±

    ¡°Three. The third one is in my room. All made by yours truly.¡± The Chief answers, smiling proudly.

    The Chief walks through the room to the door on the other side, opening it and stepping into her bedroom. I follow along, to find¡­ Tiff, wearing a red linen nightgown and seemingly passed out on the Chief¡¯s queen-sized bed, awkwardly splayed out across it.

    The Chief just sighs, walking around the bed and sitting on the far side, patting in front of her for me to join her, which I oblige.

    So.

    The Chief¡¯s bedroom. The room of the most important and powerful person in Haven.

    For starters, she has an actual soft, queen sized bed with an actual mattress, with bedposts and a canopy, from which dark red curtains hang. The chimney also opens up to a small fireplace in her bedroom as it does in the study, and between it and the door is a dresser, kept surprisingly neat and organised considering the state of all the tables in her home. On top of it sits an actual glass mirror, the only one I¡¯ve seen in Haven. Yet not only does her room have a mirror, above it hangs a mechanical clock up on the wall, keeping the time to the hour, minute, and second. That explains how the Chief can keep track of time, then. It also says it¡¯s just before midnight.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of four clocks in Haven. They¡¯ve been running since they were first brought down here.¡± The Chief answers the question on my mind.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the other three?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s one in the dorm house, one in the office above the Tavern, and one in the kitchen visible from the Tavern.¡± She says. Huh, I didn¡¯t notice one in the kitchen.

    A large circular window takes up most of the wall that¡¯s opposite from her bed, giving her a view down to the pools by the waterfall. The only other furniture in her room is a small bookshelf, and a simple bedside table, with a well-made, dark brown suitcase on top of it, closed and locked with golden clasps.

    ¡°Now, then¡­¡± The Chief starts, glancing across at Tiff, who¡¯s still apparently asleep. ¡°Are you going to join this conversation or not.¡±

    Tiff remains unresponsive for a moment, before pouting, sitting back up.

    ¡°You¡¯re no fun¡­¡± She huffs.

    ¡°How long was I asleep¡­?¡±

    ¡°You came back to your room and fell asleep at about nine o¡¯clock. You¡¯ve been thrashing about in your sleep on and off for the past hour¡­¡± The Chief says, looking at me. ¡°Is it the same nightmare over and over again?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ sometimes, it¡¯s memories of my old life, but usually it¡¯s just¡­ I open my eyes, and there I am again. Laying in that ditch, bleeding out. Staring up at the empty sky, with the smell of fire and death in the air as I slowly slip away.¡±

    Silence hangs in the air for a brief time, before I speak again.

    ¡°It¡¯s not how I would have liked to have gone¡­¡±

    ¡°Few people get to choose the circumstances of their death. I died in a carriage ambush. Robbers who thought our gilded carriage an easy target. I took most of them down with me before I died.¡± The Chief says, crossing her arms.

    ¡°How old were you?¡±

    ¡°Eleven.¡± She answers.

    ¡°Were you alone or with your family?¡±

    ¡°I was travelling with my sister.¡± She sighs. ¡°She was six years my senior. I don¡¯t know what happened to her, but when I called out, she didn¡¯t answer. It would have been fortunate for my parents if she lived and I died.¡±

    ¡°Mia¡­¡± Tiff says quietly, resting her hand on the Chief¡¯s lap.

    ¡°They always made it clear to me that I would never be as good as my sister and I should just get married to anyone as quickly as possible so they could get rid of me. It would be utterly hilarious if they lost both their children in the same incident.¡± The Chief chuckles dryly.

    ¡°Grew up in your sister¡¯s shadow, I take it?¡±

    ¡°Hah. Literally. She was the youngest person ever to attain sagehood in the Convent of Twilight at the age of ten. I attained sagehood in the Order of the Golden Light also when I was ten, but I wasn¡¯t the youngest since some child from hundreds of years ago became a sage at age eight. Nevermind that the Order was corrupt then and they made an eight year old a sage for a joke. No. I was just Mia, the second, spare daughter of a prestigious family, always second fiddle to Emilia, the pride of the Lichtrufers¡­¡± The Chief takes the cup on her bedside table, sipping from it.

    ¡°I was an only child, so I don¡¯t have any sibling stories to share. You said you had three siblings, Marina? What were they like?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°Well, there was Bianca, my eldest sister. My big sister. She looked after me and doted on me. She was strong, smart, reliable, pretty¡­ I always looked up to her. Carina, my second eldest sister. She had bright red hair¡­ a bit like Tiff¡¯s hair, and every boy in town pined for her. She was a bit prideful and could come off as abrasive, but she was very kind-hearted and caring, she just¡­ wasn¡¯t always good at showing it. And then, Vincenzo, our little baby brother. He was four years younger than me, and he had a smile that could get him out of anything. Everyone loved him, my dad most of all. Us kids always helped our parents as much as we could.¡±

    ¡°Was it a happy family?¡± Tiff asks, smiling.

    ¡°Well, mostly¡­ if there was a problem child, it was definitely me, aha¡­¡±

    ¡°You? You¡¯ve been one of the most well-behaved residents of Haven, Marina.¡± The Chief says, sounding a little surprised that I was the problem child.

    ¡°I was¡­ a difficult child. Distant, untrusting and irritable sometimes, over-emotional and clingy other times. Sometimes it felt like my family were all strangers and that I didn¡¯t belong there, like it wasn¡¯t my real home. I¡¯d hide away in my room all day, and be up all night crying from nightmares¡­ I caused a lot of anguish. My parents would fight some nights, as they didn¡¯t know what to do with me. It was only when I started to grow up and mature that I began to grow out of it, and that they no longer felt like strangers and felt more like my family. I wished, on my fifteenth birthday, that my family would be happy, and that I could show them the love they showed me through all the trouble I caused for them. And then¡­¡±

    ¡°Then you wound up here.¡± The Chief finishes the sentence for me.

    ¡°They probably did, too.¡±

    ¡°Well, I had checked through the books keeping track of everyone who lived in Haven. You¡¯re the first Retali we¡¯ve had, Marina.¡± She says.

    ¡°When did you check?¡±

    ¡°Recently. Now-¡± She starts,

    ¡°She checked the day we interviewed you!¡± Tiff cuts her off, grinning.

    ¡°Tiff!!¡± The Chief exclaims, crossing her arms in indignation as Tiff rolls over giggling.

    ¡°Ahaha¡­ well¡­ If I¡¯m here, that means my father didn¡¯t bury me properly¡­¡± Tiff chuckles, wiping a tear from her eye as she sits back up.

    ¡°What, uh¡­ how¡¯d you end up here?¡±

    ¡°Oh, my uh¡­ I was deflowered outside of marriage, and my father beat me a bit too hard, and well¡­ here I was, haha¡­¡± The colour slowly drains from her face as she talks, her words drifting off into the night as silence hangs for a time.

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    ¡°You can see why we try not to talk about these things, Marina.¡± The Chief says, holding Tiff¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Ah¡­ I didn¡¯t have to bring mine up. It just kinda came out as you both shared yours¡­¡± Tiff shrugs lightly.

    ¡°You said once that there were other places where us Damned turn up¡­ Are they close to here? Are they anything like the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°Well if the contents of the book ¡°The Damned''s Guide To Their New Lease On Life¡± are truthful, there are seven places, called Sumps, that the Damned arrive at, and the Red Abyss is considered the worst of them.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°Just my luck to get the worst one¡­¡±

    ¡°Apparently, the Damned from different Sumps have different changes to their bodies. They call them ¡°Afflictions''''. Our afflictions are our white pupils, pointed ears, and red eyes or red hair. Some, from other sumps, have skin as black as coal and eyes that burn like embers, while others have catlike features, or even turn completely into a talking cat!¡± Tiff says.

    ¡°Damned from Mount Forge and the Ruins of Vaythrarr, respectively. Mount Forge is the largest volcano in the Underlands, and the Ruins of Vaythrarr are the ruins of the capital of a once great empire, now inhabited by the ghosts of its people.¡± The Chief chimes in.

    ¡°There¡¯s one up really far north called Snowbleak. Damned from Snowbleak have snow-white hair, and big, soft, fluffy, super cuddly tails!¡± Tiff says, excitedly.

    ¡°You¡¯d give anything to touch one of those big, soft, fluffy, super cuddly tails, wouldn¡¯t you¡­¡± The Chief says, sighing, but smiling.

    ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t?¡± Tiff grins.

    ¡°So, the Red Abyss, Mount Forge, the Ruins of Vaythrarr, Snowbleak¡­ What are the other three places?¡±

    ¡°The Golden Dunes. A giant desert to the south where the grains of sand are gold. Damned there have large, dragon-like tails. The Woodland Grave, a forest shrouded in permanent fog, where its Damned have antlers. And then, the Gateway. It doesn¡¯t do anything to you, and you end up right next to the biggest city in the Underlands.¡± The Chief continues her answer.

    ¡°Sure sounds like people who are sent to the Gateway have it easy¡­¡±

    ¡°The Damned''s Guide To Their New Lease On Life does mention that those who arrive via the Gateway are looked down upon by other Damned for having a comparatively easy start.¡± The Chief says. ¡°Although even if I was reborn in a palace, I¡¯d still have to grapple with the fact that I died and my body was either desecrated or left unburied.¡±

    ¡°How are you feeling now, Marina?¡± Tiff asks, smiling gently.

    ¡°Educated on the living conditions of my fellow Damned.¡±

    ¡°You have the strangest¡­ Well, you look a little brighter.¡± The Chief sighs lightly. ¡°The nightmares should grow less frequent over time. I can¡¯t promise that they¡¯ll ever completely go away, though.¡±

    ¡°I do have one question, Tiff¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± Tiff says.

    ¡°What do I have to do to get a nightgown as luxurious as the Chief¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°As luxurious as¡­¡± The Chief blushes slightly, looking down at her extravagant, luxurious, silken nightgown. I have to swat my left wing as it tries to reach out and touch the Chief¡¯s nightgown for itself.

    ¡°I wish I had the talent to make something as delicate and beautiful as that, but I¡¯m not quite there yet. It came along with Mia.¡± Tiff says, grinning at the Chief¡¯s embarrassment.

    ¡°... You were wearing that in the carriage?¡±

    ¡°N-No!!¡± The Chief blurts out, before taking a breath to calm herself. ¡°It was in the suitcase by my bedside. I died on top of it, and it came with me.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ weren¡¯t you eleven? How do the clothes still fit?¡±

    ¡°They are, or they were, my sister¡¯s. It was her suitcase. I grew into them.¡± She says, glancing down at her nightgown again.

    ¡°It certainly suits you.¡±

    ¡°It really does, doesn¡¯t it~?¡± Tiff agrees. ¡°If you¡¯d like, Marina, I can make you something like mine, so you don¡¯t have to sleep in your nice new clothes all the time.¡±

    ¡°I would appreciate that a lot, Tiff.¡±

    ¡°Clothing aside, I still have one question, Marina.¡± The Chief¡¯s more serious tone gives me a hint on what this is likely about.

    I glance out the window, up at the towering cliffs that disappear into the fog.

    ¡°Six hundred tals is a long way up. And a long way down. I¡¯d need lots of practice and exercise to be able to make it.¡±

    ¡°... So Rann did tell you.¡± The Chief looks down at her hands in her lap.

    ¡°He told me about the crane. It was easy to figure out the rest. We¡¯re stuck in a giant hole in the ground, and I have wings.¡±

    ¡°Well, then. No need to hide my ambition. I want to get everyone out of the Abyss. Not just everyone in Haven, everyone in the Abyss. The Keepsguard, the Breakers, all the minor groups just trying to survive. Everyone. It may sound crazy, but this place, the Abyss itself¡­ It¡¯s alive, or at the very least, it isn¡¯t dead.¡± She says.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound that far fetched, given how this place feels like it was designed to be as tough and miserable as possible.¡±

    ¡°A book I read on the Sumps covers several leading theories on the nature of the Sumps and why we Damned arrive here. If the theory that six of the seven Sumps are indeed the remains of the six fallen Gods, then we are sitting on the grave of Arnar.¡±

    ¡°The God of War?¡±

    ¡°The very same. Are you familiar with his teachings?¡±

    ¡°The weak fear adversity, the strong revel in it. The flames of war forge the strongest steel, and the greatest of warriors can accomplish anything with nothing but their own strength. Conflict is the true natural order and to resist it is foolishness¡­¡±

    ¡°Even if he didn¡¯t shape this place, he¡¯d certainly approve of it¡­ To think, I was born under his moon, and this is how he treats his favoured?¡± Tiff chuckles a little.

    ¡°The Abyss is an environment that drives conflict and adversity via its sparse resources and vicious wildlife. Outside of Haven, there¡¯s no clean water, the air is thick with smoke and fog, few plants are edible, and even the least dangerous animal is more than capable of killing you. This is an arena built on struggle and pain. Besides the few that escaped when Haven was built, only a handful of people have made it out of the Abyss by their own means. Every single one of them went on to establish great deeds; legendary hunters, peerless warriors, a few even attained Daemonhood. Not that they¡¯re any help to us now.¡± The Chief crosses her arms, sighing.

    ¡°People like us¡­ became Daemons?¡±

    ¡°Yes, although the only one mentioned is one that became the Daemon of Destruction. That is, until they lost a fight, were destroyed, and the victor became the new Daemon of Destruction.¡±

    ¡°So someone beat a Daemon, and they became that Daemon? Are all Daemons, uh, inherited like that?¡±

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve read, it¡¯s best to think about Daemons in the literal sense. If you ¡®destroy¡¯ the Daemon of Destruction, you have proven yourself the greater destroyer, and you become the new Daemon of Destruction. Supposedly, there are thirteen High Daemons, who hold power and wealth above all the rest. In a way, they¡¯re the de facto gods of this world.¡±

    ¡°There really is an entire world outside the Abyss¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes. And I¡¯ll be damned if I spend the rest of my life stuck in this hellhole without ever getting a chance of seeing the world beyond it myself.¡±

    ¡°But Mia, aren¡¯t we already Damned?¡± Tiff asks, with a sincere tone but an absolutely shit-eating grin. The Chief just ignores her.

    ¡°Back on the topic of the Abyss¡­ I have a theory, myself. Given you¡¯ve been outside Haven, you know how hard it is out there compared to how it is here. We¡¯ve made a place as comfortable as we can. Supposedly the Keepsguard are quite comfy in their castle, wherever it is. We have some semblance of stability and normality here. And whatever is left of Arnar¡¯s will doesn¡¯t like that.¡± She says, frowning. ¡°Which is why, for the past twenty years, the new arrivals in the Abyss have all been children.¡±

    ¡°All three of us were lucky. We were all found by Rann¡¯s expedition team when we were young, and brought here. I¡­ try not to think how many children are lost out in the Abyss, right now.¡± Tiff says, clenching her hands.

    ¡°Basically, everyone younger than Vann came to the Abyss at age fifteen or younger. It¡¯s what necessitated the schoolhouse, and it¡¯s why a third of Haven¡¯s people are children.¡± The Chief sighs softly.

    ¡°Wait, are none of the children the actual biological children of anyone here? None of them were born here?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all children we found and rescued out in the Abyss. Although, I¡¯m surprised no one mentioned that fact to you, Marina¡­¡± Tiff ponders, looking across at me.

    ¡°The fact that all the kids here have been rescued¡­?¡±

    ¡°The fact that, try as hard as you want, no Damned can procreate with another Damned. Apparently, the Damned can procreate with the native peoples of the Underlands, but it¡¯s only us Damned down here, so that doesn¡¯t really matter.¡± The Chief shrugs.

    ¡°So, theoretically, you could go at it as much as you wanted to without any¡­ risk.¡±

    ¡°Yes, theoretically, you could. Most things still work the same as they did back in the world before.¡± The Chief shrugs, again, trying to move the topic of conversation along.

    ¡°Most things?¡±

    ¡°Well, have you bled since you awoke in the Underlands, Marina?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°N-no, actually¡­ does that mean we don¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°We still do, it¡¯s just far more erratic and spaced apart. You can go months without bleeding, and then bleed twice in one week. As far as I know, the males don¡¯t have any new complications at all with their reproductive organs¡­ typical.¡± The Chief huffs.

    ¡°Men don¡¯t bleed from their ¡°reproductive organs¡±, and if we are sitting on top of Arnar, the saying goes that Arnar cares not from whence the blood flows.¡± Tiff adds. The Chief just huffs again.

    ¡°Do they uh¡­ do the men, or¡­ e-even the women, uh¡­ ever try to¡­ court either of you?¡±

    ¡°Pffff¡­ They¡¯re all far too afraid of the Chief to even think of asking her out~¡± Tiff giggles.

    ¡°I¡¯ve spent one lifetime dealing with boorish suitors and lustful young men. I don¡¯t intend to spend my second life dealing with the same.¡± The Chief huffs annoyedly.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see¡­ they¡¯re scared of the Chief, because she¡¯s scary and has magic. They don¡¯t try anything with me, because I¡¯m close to the Chief. Minegumo just gets treated like a kid, and that makes her too angry for most people to deal with. Ingrid is¡­ Ingrid. Arshiya¡¯s just too sweet and pure for anyone to try anything. We do have some unofficially married couples and some other girls around our age, and it''s not like no one in town gets up to some hanky panky sometimes. You, Marina¡­ are also scary, so they obviously haven¡¯t worked up the courage to try anything.¡± Tiff counts off.

    ¡°Me? Scary?¡±

    ¡°You have wings with swords, Marina, that have already cut up one person¡¯s face. Must we go through the private life of every adult in the village, Tiff?¡± The Chief is clearly growing annoyed with this topic, but the tell of her reddening cheeks, slight fidgeting, the occasional twitches of her pointed red ears¡­ red?

    ¡°You blush up to your ears, Chief!¡±

    ¡°She does?¡± Tiff gasps excitedly. ¡°She does!! She goes red from her cheeks up to her ears!¡±

    ¡°What- I do not!!¡± The Chief cries, covering her ears as her whole face goes red, even down to her neck.

    ¡°Oooh, her neck turns red, too¡­¡±

    ¡°I-it does not! Stop it!¡± She whines, flopping over onto her side and rolling over so we can¡¯t see her face.

    ¡°N¡¯aawww, Mia~! You shouldn¡¯t hide something so cute from us!¡± Tiff giggles, pouncing on the Chief, pinning her down and pulling her hands away from her face. ¡°C¡¯mon, Marina! Come see how cute she is~!¡±

    The Chief struggles against Tiff¡¯s surprisingly strong grasp which I myself have fallen victim to more than once, kicking her legs helplessly beneath her, rolling her head side to side on the pillow trying to hide her bright red face from us. She is cute, and Tiff¡¯s giggling is so infectious I started giggling too and joined in on the Chief-teasing.

    That is, before the Chief decided she had enough, and golden chains yanked Tiff and I back, chaining us to the bedposts, my wings awkwardly hanging by my sides.

    ¡°Miiiiaaaaaaaa¡­¡± Tiff whines, kicking her legs helplessly just like the Chief was. ¡°Magic¡¯s no fair~¡±

    ¡°Ganging up on me isn¡¯t fair!!¡± The Chief yelps back, trying to straighten out her hair. ¡°Nor is your ridiculously strong grip¡­¡±

    ¡°Why am I being detained, too? I¡¯m not the one that had you pinned!¡±

    ¡°You! Didn¡¯t help me when I was being pinned! You joined the aggressor!¡± She huffs, fixing her gown and pulling up a loose strap.

    ¡°Ahem, anyway. It¡¯s well past midnight, and we should be getting to sleep. I¡¯ll let you two down if you apologise for assaulting me and promise not to do it again.¡± She says, crossing her arms and turning her nose up indignantly.

    ¡°I pwooomiseee¡­¡± Tiff whines.

    ¡°Rejected for insincerity. Marina?¡± The Chief turns to look at me, ignoring Tiff¡¯s protestations.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry for, uh, not helping you when Tiff attacked you, Chief¡­¡±

    She sighs lightly, dispelling the chains around me with a wave of her hand. My wings give a light flap of thanks, the truly innocent party caught up in the mess here. For once. You get in plenty of trouble yourself, wings.

    ¡°You can call me Mia here, Marina.¡± The Chief¡­ well, Mia says.

    ¡°Thank you, Mia-¡±

    ¡°Not in public however. I am the Chief to you everywhere we are in the public eye.¡± She quickly adds. Alright.

    ¡°Miiaaaa¡­ can I be let down nooowwww¡­¡± Tiff whines again.

    ¡°Fine, but that¡¯s just because you¡¯d be bothering me all night if I kept you there. We should get to sleep. Marina, see Tiffany out, would you?¡± Mia orders.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± I salute, standing up from the bed as Tiff hops off the bed after being released from her chains.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have another busy day tomorrow. You two sleep well.¡± Mia waves us off, hopping in bed as Tiff and I leave the room, heading downstairs to the ground floor.

    ¡°Marina.¡± Tiff says, just before we reach the front door.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re everything she was hoping for, you know.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ that statement¡¯s a lot to take in.¡±

    ¡°Well, it helps that she likes you, too. But you¡¯re exactly who she needs to help see through her goals.¡±

    ¡°I hope I can live up to her ambitions.¡±

    ¡°You already have, in many ways. She can never be honest with herself, but she''s a kind and caring person, and she hates seeing people suffer. I¡¯ve done all I can to support her and help her grow, just like everyone else. She has the vision to lead us out of here, and you¡¯re exactly what was needed for everything to come together. Do you know of the promise she made when she became Chief?"

    ¡°She hasn¡¯t informed me of such a thing, no.¡± Although the way Tiff is talking about it, it¡¯s probably something a little embarrassing.

    ¡°She made a promise, to everyone in Haven, that they wouldn¡¯t spend the rest of their lives in the Abyss. That she¡¯d find a way out, and all of us would be free from this place. A tall order, but Mia was different. A young, intelligent woman whose dedication and determination was known to all, and a prodigious mage too. Maybe, after a hundred years, she would be the one to lead us out. One way or another.¡±

    ¡°Still, I have a long way to go before I¡¯ll confidently be able to fly six hundred tals up. Not only that, but the plan hinges on the crane still being intact, let alone functional¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll cross that bridge when we get there. Goodnight, Marina. And thanks.¡± Tiff smiles, closing the door behind her.

    I should probably start trying to practise, or at least better understand how to fly. I can jump and awkwardly flap about in the air for a bit, but that¡¯s not flying, that¡¯s just falling in slow motion, let alone being anywhere near falling with style. It would be a lot more approachable if I had a teacher, but¡­ that questionable old man¡¯s words still ring in my ears.

    A bird isn¡¯t born knowing how to fly, it can only try.

    The only way forward is to keep trying, as hard as we can.

    Maybe one day we¡¯ll see what lies beyond the black cliffs of the Abyss. The wider world, where we were all reborn.

    One day.

 Chapter Eighteen

    The last few days have been peaceful, quiet, and blissfully uneventful.

    I was exhausted after getting back to Haven, and when I finally fell back asleep after talking til well after midnight with Tiff and Mia, I slept past midday. The pain in my leg had mostly subsided by now. Meat had become a regular item on the tavern¡¯s menu. After the feast night, it was listed as a special item, but it turns out most of the villagers had been saving up their promissory notes for just this occasion, so further rationing was applied to stop people feasting on meat three meals a day. The bloodbeast was a literal mountain of meat, but it¡¯s not an infinite source of meat.

    Along with the meat, every single usable part of the bloodbeast was measured, weighted, itemised and kept track of to ensure nothing was wasted and everything was used. Bones carved into tools, glue made from gristle, and the first fur clothes were coming hot out of the tailors¡¯. The village was lively, as every cook and craftsman swung into action with the abundance of new work or materials. Ingrid, the blacksmith, was determined to fix the broken bear spear. The butcher was carving every cut of meat out of the bloodbeast¡¯s carcass, which still lay within the market square. The carpenter was carving bones, the tanner turning skin to leather and parchment. Everywhere was bustling and everyone was busy, and they likely would be for some time more.

    Yet things weren¡¯t adding up. What was recorded in the ledger wasn¡¯t matching the material goods. There were a few minor discrepancies. A couple thin strips of meat. A bit of fur. The largest missing item was a claw, but otherwise, they were just small things that could have easily been lost or misplaced. But Mia¡­ ahem, the Chief didn¡¯t believe that to be the case, as she told me.

    ¡°So¡­ you think someone is stealing?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the only other explanation. What complicates it¡­ is that it likely isn¡¯t one of the adults stealing.¡± The Chief furrows her brow, leaning back in her chair and glancing towards the fireplace.

    ¡°One of the children, then?¡±

    ¡°As much as I don¡¯t want to admit it, yes, it probably is. More than a few of the children of Haven had no family in their previous life. They lived on the street, and they died on the street. Stealing was their only way of life. It can be a challenge teaching them that they don¡¯t need to do that anymore to survive.¡± She sighs, leaning over her desk and staring down at the open ledger, as if intimidating it into telling her what she wants to know.

    ¡°What makes you think it¡¯s one of the children, though? I¡¯m not pointing the finger at anyone, I¡¯d just like to know why you came to that conclusion.¡±

    She glances up from her ledger to look straight in my eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re nervous about questioning my reasoning.¡± She says, hitting right on the money.

    ¡°W-well¡­ Yes, aha¡­ Kinda forgot about the whole soulseer stuff¡­¡±

    ¡°I can tell when people feel guilty or when they¡¯re hiding something, no matter how good they think they are at hiding it. I see the face of every person in the village every day. I¡¯m certain it¡¯s none of them. Children, though¡­¡± She glances back down at her ledger. ¡°Are different. There¡¯s a storm of thoughts and feelings going on inside their heads. They¡¯re not quite so easy to read.¡±

    ¡°How do you plan to find the culprit, then?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s been one item going missing each day, each from a different location, so they¡¯re cautious about being caught. I have a few classes to teach this week, so I¡¯ll keep an eye on the students as I do so. With enough observation I should be able to parse out who our little pickpocket is.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything I can do to help?¡±

    ¡°As much as I appreciate the offer, Marina, there¡¯s a reason we¡¯ve mostly kept you away from the schoolhouse. Two reasons, actually.¡±

    Two¡­ Ah. I see.

    ¡°They did cut up Aran¡¯s face, after all¡­¡± She sighs, crossing her arms.

    I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to forgive myself or my wings if I did the same to an innocent kid.

    ¡°... Actually, I¡¯ve changed my mind. It¡¯s about time the children learned how to act around you.¡± She suddenly changes her tune, standing up from her desk.

    ¡°Eh? Really?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t keep them away from you forever. They¡¯re curious and inquisitive and sooner than later their curiosity will supersede their hesitance. Besides, it gives me a chance to observe them while they¡¯re distracted by the winged familiar I summoned.¡± She smiles, heading towards the stairs.

    ¡°The winged¡­ what? What have you been telling them??¡±

    ¡°Nothing yet. They¡¯re curious and inquisitive, just like I said~¡± I can hear her smirk as she heads down the stairs, and I quickly follow after her.

    ¡­

    Well, I¡¯ve done my fair share of show-and-tell in the past.

    But I¡¯ve definitely never been the object being shown-and-told.

    Standing at the front of a quaint classroom, with 25 desks occupied by 25 rowdy students, all clamouring to get closer to the front of the room as I stand beside the Chief to my right, and Yvonne, the old teacher who helps look after the children, sitting behind the desk on my left.

    Seeing just all the children of Haven in one place puts a few things into perspective. The average age of the children of Haven is about ten years old. They¡¯re all human, and come from all over the world, although¡­ several of the boys and girls look nearly identical. Black hair, red eyes, pointed ears, white pupils. It¡¯s hard to tell them apart, even getting a good look at them. Even the Chief can get some children mixed up, but the kids just giggle about it. Despite the bleakness and brown-ness of our surroundings, the children are happy, excitable, always talking and giggling. It¡¯s good to see their smiles in the face of everything beyond Haven¡¯s walls.

    ¡°Miss Chief! What magic does your familiar know?¡±

    ¡°Miss Chief! Is it true her wings are made of swords!¡±

    ¡°Miss Chief! Did she fly down into the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°Miss Chief-¡±

    ¡°Alright class, you¡¯ll have plenty of time to ask questions later, let¡¯s give the Chief and Marina here some time to talk.¡± Yvonne says, calming the class. She¡¯s the oldest person in the village, and she¡¯s calm and gentle; even the students mostly behave and listen to her when she speaks.

    ¡°Thank you, Yvonne.¡± The Chief smiles at her. ¡°Now, I want to begin by saying that Marina Retali, here, is not my familiar. She¡¯s an otherwise ordinary girl who arrived here a few moons ago now. She¡¯s fifteen¡­¡±

    ¡°Fifteen!?¡± One of the kids, a boy with short black hair sputters out, and the other children murmur in disbelief.

    ¡°Yes, fifteen. I made sure of this, Rickard. Just like I made sure that it was you who drew in Samantha¡¯s workbook last week.¡± The Chief responds, and Rickard quickly sinks back down in his chair.

    ¡°It was!? I knew it was you, Ricky! You said you didn¡¯t do it but you did!!¡± A girl with bright orange hair; Samantha, presumably stands up from her desk as she shouts.

    ¡°I said I was sorry, Sammy! I thought it was my book!¡± Rickard yells back, and commotion in the classroom begins to grow again.

    Ah. Samantha. Sammy. That¡¯s where I recognised the bright orange hair from.

    ¡°Children, come now, let¡¯s let Chief Lichtrufer finish¡­¡± Yvonne hushes the children gently, and they mostly comply.

    ¡°Ahem, yes. Marina is fifteen. She isn¡¯t lying when she says that. Although, her more grown-up appearance may have something to do with¡­ what you¡¯re all interested in seeing, yes?¡± The Chief asks the inquisitive crowd of onlooking children, who all nod in agreement.

    The Chief glances across at me. Okay, this is our moment, wings. Or your moment. Come out slowly and safely, unless you want to end up in chains again.

    The cloak on my back shifts slightly, as my wings slowly creep out of the strange pocket dimension woven into my cloak that they hide in. As they come out and unfurl to their full length slowly, the speed of their emergence conducts the volume of the ¡°Oooooh¡± of awe that came from the children, hitting its crescendo as they finally reach their full length, wingtips pointed upwards in pride.

    ¡°Where are the swords?¡± A boy asks, sounding rather disappointed at the presentation.

    In response to this, each blade-feather extends to a third of their respective lengths under the watchful eyes of the Chief, not daring to risk getting bound up in chains again. Still, the slight display of the blade-feathers is more than enough to please the crowd.

    ¡°Ehhh? I thought the wings were made of swords..¡± The same boy whines.

    ¡°Who¡¯d want wings made of swords? The feathers look so soft!¡± A girl chimes in.

    ¡°Can the swords cut things? Are the feathers soft? Can we touch them?¡± More children ask.

    ¡°They¡¯re not for touching, class. The swords in them are very, very sharp, and-¡± The Chief starts.

    ¡°I saw them cut Aran¡¯s face. He said a bad word and didn¡¯t get punished for it.¡± A girl says, cutting the Chief off mid-sentence.

    ¡°Is it true they think for themselves and you can¡¯t control them?¡± Another boy asks.

    ¡°Well¡­ yes and no. They have a mind of their own, but they behave, and¡­¡± I glance across at the Chief. ¡°They don¡¯t hurt people who ask before touching them.¡±

    The Chief goes to protest, but stops herself and nods reluctantly. Anyone who¡¯s asked to touch my wings before touching them hasn¡¯t been hurt. If anything, they seem to like the attention.

    ¡°Could you demonstrate for us please, Chief Lichtrufer?¡± Yvonne asks, smiling at the Chief.

    ¡°I¡­ ahem.¡± The Chief hesitates for a moment, before sighing. ¡°Wings, may I touch you?¡±

    The wingtip closest to her wiggles up and down as if nodding its head. Reluctantly, she reaches out and awkwardly pats the upper edge of my wing, and it gives a happy shiver in response.

    A young girl at the front of the class who looks¡­ maybe 7 or 8 at the very most puts her hand up.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Yes, Lizabeth?¡± Yvonne says.

    ¡°Can I touch them please, Miss Marina?¡± Lizabeth asks in the cutest, sweetest, most adorable little voice.

    I glance at the Chief, and she nods once in agreement.

    ¡°Of course you can.¡±

    Slowly, she gets out of her chair and walks up to me. She barely comes up to my hips. She reaches up with her small hands, wonder in her eyes as my left wing lowers its outermost primary feathers so she can touch them.

    She softly strokes along a feather with her hand, as gently as you¡¯d pet a newborn kitten. It feels a little odd being pet like this, but it¡¯s more than worth it to see the smile on her face.

    ¡°Wow¡­ They¡¯re so soft¡­¡± She says in awe, before stepping back and bowing politely.

    In turn, my other wing reaches out, patting the young girl on the head with its soft wingtip. She giggles.

    ¡°Can I touch them too?¡± Another child asks, and before I know it, every child in the class is up at the front, touching and rubbing and poking my wings.

    And, unsurprisingly, my wings are absolutely loving the attention. I don¡¯t know how much I like feeling dozens of hands all over limbs I¡¯m not used to having, but thankfully, the wings themselves enjoy it. I shared the Chief¡¯s concerns over them injuring someone, but instead, they¡¯ve been gentle and careful with the children, even keeping their blade feathers tightly tucked away out of the children¡¯s reach.

    ¡°Is it true you killed the big stinky bird that came here? And the big mountain bear?¡± A child asks.

    ¡°I struck the final blow, but both were group efforts from everyone who helped.¡±

    ¡°Can you fly? Did you come from outside the Abyss?¡± Another child asks.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ learning how to fly. It¡¯s not an easy thing to do.¡±

    ¡°Ehhhh? You have wings but you can¡¯t fly? That¡¯s lame¡­¡± A child pouts.

    ¡°I¡­ Well, even birds aren¡¯t born knowing how to fly, they can only try¡­¡±

    I glance across at the Chief helplessly as two dozen children bombard me with questions all while touching and poking and rubbing my wings. It¡¯s starting to get a bit much for me to handle. The Chief nods, clapping her hands once.

    ¡°Alright, children, that¡¯s enough. Marina has a lot to do today, show and tell is over.¡± The Chief says, and is met by numerous whines of disappointment as they all slowly make their way back to their desks.

    ¡°Can I touch your wings again later, Miss Marina?¡± Lizabeth asks shyly.

    ¡°Of course you may, if you ask that nicely.¡±

    Lizabeth smiles, going back to sit at her desk.

    ¡°Alright class, let¡¯s say thank you to Chief Lichtrufer and Miss Marina for spending some time with us today.¡± Yvonne says, standing up from her desk.

    ¡°Thaaank you Chief Lichtrufer aaaand Miissss Marinaaaa!¡± The class says in unison in a long, overly formal dragged-out way.

    My wings tuck themselves back in under my cloak, and the Chief and I take our leave through the side door, closing it behind us and walking back around behind her residence.

    ¡°So¡­?¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re certainly better with children than I am¡­¡± The Chief sighs a little.

    ¡°Did you notice anything about any of the children?¡±

    ¡°They all got fixated on you pretty quickly. Nothing seemed amiss. Which means we haven¡¯t made any progress in regards to the potential thief, but¡­ at least they¡¯ve been introduced to you and have learned how to behave around you.¡±

    ¡°My wings certainly enjoyed the attention.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, your wings also know how to behave themselves around the children. Although, since they were closer to you, did you notice anything that stood out in regards to the children?¡±

    ¡°Nothing in particular. The only thing I noticed was that there was an empty desk when we left?¡±

    ¡°The schoolhouse has always had twenty-five desks for students, and since we had a child turn fifteen a moon ago, we have twenty-four children. I had considered having you sit in on some lessons to learn more about the Underlands, but¡­ you¡¯d likely just be a distraction for the rest of the children.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything in particular I need to know from the schoolhouse subjects?¡±

    ¡°I suppose I should tutor you in how to read and write Underlander¡­¡± The Chief muses, pondering for a moment. ¡°You can read Giornovan and Drachensprache, which gives you a head start. We can get started on that later¡­¡±

    The Chief¡¯s words trail off, and she stops in her tracks. I look ahead of us to see Ingrid standing by the rear door to the Chief¡¯s residence.

    ¡°Ingrid.¡± The sudden curtness in the Chief¡¯s voice is apparent.

    ¡°Another claw has gone missing.¡± Ingrid reports bluntly.

    ¡°Another claw? Misplacing one I can understand, but two-¡± The Chief begins to say, before

    ¡°I don¡¯t misplace things. They were taken by someone.¡± Ingrid quickly cuts her off, narrowing her eyes slightly.

    ¡°Alright.¡± The Chief sighs. ¡°When were they taken? Do you have a suspect in mind?¡±

    ¡°Fifteen minutes ago. It could only have been..¡± Ingrid glances past us, over at the schoolhouse.

    ¡°Fifteen minutes? Marina and I were just in the schoolhouse. All twenty-four children were accounted for. It can¡¯t have been any of them if the claw went missing fifteen minutes ago. If it was fifteen minutes ago, why are you only bringing this up now? Did you search for it for long before coming here?¡± The Chief only grows more agitated the longer she talks to Ingrid, and Ingrid¡¯s stubbornness isn¡¯t helping. We saw all twenty-four children¡­ wait.

    ¡°How many children did you say there were, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Twenty-four, as I just said. Have you been listening to this conversation at all, Marina?¡± The Chief glares at me.

    ¡°But¡­ There were twenty-five students when we entered. Every desk was occupied. When we left, one desk was empty.¡±

    ¡°What? There¡¯s only twenty-four students in Haven, though¡­ how could¡­¡± The Chief furrows her brow in concern and confusion.

    ¡°So it is one of the children. We question them, then.¡± Ingrid starts to walk past the Chief towards the schoolhouse, before the Chief quickly stops her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go marching in and accuse all the children of this! We don¡¯t know who it is, and whoever it is doesn''t know we¡¯ve noticed the things gone missing yet!¡± She says, pushing Ingrid back as she stubbornly keeps trying to move forward.

    ¡°So one of them slipped out while you and Marina were in there. How could they have just left right under your nose?¡± Ingrid says, finally stepping back from the Chief.

    ¡°... While they were all up at the front touching my wings and asking questions.¡±

    ¡°They¡­ you¡¯re probably right, Marina.¡± The Chief sighs, rubbing her temple. ¡°I was so focused on watching their auras that I completely failed to notice the additional student¡­¡±

    ¡°Is there a window I could peek through to see all the students¡¯ desks?¡±

    ¡°The one up near the front, on the side wall. You can see all the students from behind.¡± The Chief points in the window¡¯s direction.

    I look at the two of them, and they both nod. I head over to the window in question, peering into the class, counting the desks and students¡­

    Twenty-five desks, twenty-five students. Nothing out of place or amiss.

    ¡°Twenty-five students. No empty desks.¡± I report back to the Chief and Ingrid.

    ¡°So they¡¯ve already gotten back to their desk in the time between us leaving the schoolhouse and now¡­¡± The Chief ponders.

    ¡°It¡¯s one of them. We go in and search their possessions and their desks.¡± Ingrid starts towards the schoolhouse again, and the Chief stops her again.

    ¡°If we search their desks and find nothing then they¡¯ll know we¡¯re onto them. They¡¯re obviously smart enough to move around us without being caught. We need to find where they¡¯re hiding things, or catch them red-handed.¡± She says, and Ingrid lets out an annoyed sigh, stepping back.

    ¡°How would Yvonne not notice an extra student?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s near-sighted, and¡­ even I can¡¯t tell the children apart, sometimes. What I am certain of, however, is that there are only twenty-four students in Haven. The newest resident of Haven is Marina. Which means one thing.¡± The Chief glanced across at me, her brow furrowed.

    ¡°Someone snuck in.¡±

    ¡°How? Did the gate guards fall asleep on the job?¡± Ingrid asks. The Chief sighs.

    ¡°A child snuck in. Children can squeeze through smaller gaps than adults can. I¡¯ll have Vann quietly patrol the palisade and look for possible points of entry. And Marina¡­¡± The Chief turns to face me now. ¡°Rann told me that you had a feeling that you were being followed on the way back to Haven. You even stopped to look for your follower once, and didn¡¯t find them. Did they follow you all the way back?¡±

    ¡°I lost the feeling that we were being followed when we turned off from the¡­ seeping wound¡­ stream.¡±

    Still a weird name but I get it after having seen it.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ that isn¡¯t particularly close to Haven. So how would¡­¡± The Chief paces back and forth, trying to figure out how this child snuck into Haven.

    ¡°Chief.¡± Ingrid says.

    ¡°What. I¡¯m busy.¡± The Chief hisses back.

    ¡°I heard a few other things went missing. A bit of meat, a bit of fur. Two claws are different. Those are stolen weapons.¡± Ingrid continues, her flat tone more serious.

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of that, Ingrid, as I am also aware that you don¡¯t let children near your blacksmith. All the children should be in the schoolhouse right now. We¡¯ll go door to door, quietly asking if anyone saw a child wandering around Haven when they should have been in the class.¡± The Chief says.

    ¡°Why quietly?¡± Ingrid interjects.

    ¡°Because- just go back to your soot-covered forge already. The longer you persist here the more you try my patience.¡± She hisses back. Ingrid shrugs and takes her leave.

    ¡°Oil and water¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault she¡¯s such a massive pain.¡± The Chief huffs.

    ¡°Is there anything¡­ did she do something bad to you in the past, or-¡±

    ¡°We just don¡¯t get along. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡± She cuts me off, walking past me and through the back door of the library, so I follow her inside.

    ¡°So, are we going to go ask around town if anyone¡¯s seen our mystery kid?¡±

    ¡°I, will find Tiff and join her for her rounds with the craftsmen. You, will be staying here.¡± She answers succinctly, turning to face me.

    ¡°Eh? But-¡±

    ¡°If you want to help, go upstairs and grab the ledger. I make the rounds with Tiff every day. If I did it with you it¡¯d draw suspicion.¡±

    Alright. I do as she says, heading upstairs and grabbing the ledger off her desk. The fire¡¯s almost gone out, so I stoke it a little before heading back downstairs and handing the Chief her ledger. She takes it, then leaves by the front door, closing it behind her.

    Well then. I have some time to kill.

    Even though I was facing the children in the schoolhouse, I didn¡¯t notice anyone leave when they all came up to the front, but¡­ I wasn¡¯t looking for that, I guess. I saw 25 kids, I expected 25 kids. I don¡¯t know their names or their faces enough to tell one from another, and it¡¯s clear our mystery kid knows what they¡¯re doing if they¡¯ve evaded detection thus far.

    What concerns me more is the question of how they got into Haven. As far as I know, there¡¯s one way in and one way out. When we entered town, we had to wait for the gate to close behind us before we moved in any further. Most eyes were on the bloodbeast, but there were definitely eyes on the gate.

    Did they hide in the sled? Did they climb over the palisade somewhere? Did they go under the palisade? They¡¯re likely a child, so they could fit through tighter spaces. Whoever it is¡­ they¡¯re likely the one that trailed us on our way back to Haven. They kept themselves hidden when we looked for them before, so finding them now probably isn¡¯t going to be easy. And what they stole¡­ Meat, sure, that¡¯s food. Fur, sure. As Ingrid said, though, the claws are weapons. They¡¯ve armed themselves. If they¡¯ve armed themselves, they¡¯re prepared for the consequences of them getting caught.

    For now, though, I have some actual free time to myself. Maybe I¡¯ll try one of the books in Giornovan or Drachensprache here. I¡¯d read every book at home front and back three times over, so I look forward to finding something new-

    <<BEHIND>>

    I impulsively spin on the spot to face the back door of the library. It shakes slightly on its hinges as someone runs away through the mud. I rush to the door, opening it and looking around, but whoever that was, they¡¯re gone. There was definitely someone here, though.

    Someone small, judging by the footprints in the mud.

    Unfortunately, the trail of obvious footprints quickly vanishes just a few feet away from the door. They ran normally at first, but they quickly changed how they walked to cover up their tracks. They certainly know how to hide.

    The children were let out of the schoolhouse for lunch, as most of them walk by the front of the library on their way to the tavern. I should probably get lunch too. Once the Chief gets back, I¡¯ll tell them someone ran past behind her home. And maybe, uh¡­ that weird disembodied voice or ¡°sense¡± I have that informs me that there¡¯s someone behind me. Are you sure that isn¡¯t you, wings- okay, okay, I get it, you don¡¯t have to push up against my neck like that. Is that supposed to be a yes or a no, anyway? I know you seem to read my mind, but I can¡¯t read yours. If there¡¯s even anything to read- ow! Cut it out already, gods.

    Anyway.

    I¡¯ll do my best to act casual and go get lunch, and see what the Chief finds when she gets back.

 Chapter Nineteen

    Well.

    Given the uproar in the tavern right now, the Chief¡¯s plans didn¡¯t pan out the way she intended them to.

    She went around town, quietly asking after things noted to have gone missing, and asking people to keep it to themselves for now.

    It turns out there was a lot more missing than what was recorded. Not just items from the bloodbeast, either, but small knives, preserved food, small articles of cloth, items many wouldn¡¯t realise were missing until they looked. The furor over these missing, presumably stolen items quickly swept across Haven, leading to people demanding a town meeting in the tavern to get to the bottom of this.

    Accusations flew back and forth. Old grudges boiled to the surface, and conversations went round and round in circles. Rann and Vann were making sure fists didn¡¯t start flying. Tiff was doing her best to calm people down, her long, apple-red hair flowing through the air behind her as she moved from group to group, while the Chief just sighed angrily and rubbed her temples, seated at the council table. Anton, seated beside the Chief, took a mild interest in the situation given one item of his had gone missing, but he seemed certain that it was only a matter of time before the perpetrator was caught.

    I was just¡­ quietly sitting at the front of the tables, doing my best to keep to myself as arguments rage around me. This was supposed to be a meeting between the adults, but it''d be hard not to notice the kids crowded around the windows outside, listening in on all the adults saying curse words the kids have been told they aren¡¯t allowed to say.

    ¡°I told them to keep quiet about this, but no¡­¡± The Chief groans loud enough for others to hear, but I¡¯m the only one not seated beside her that¡¯s paying her any attention.

    ¡°Well¡­ There was a lot more missing than what was in the books, aha...¡± Tiff chuckles nervously as she passes by the council table.

    ¡°Alright, this isn¡¯t going anywhere¡­¡± The Chief sighs, standing up and holding her staff as she raises her voice. ¡°If you¡¯re all quite finished bickering amongst yourselves¡­¡±

    The crowd pays little heed to their leader¡¯s call for order.

    ¡°Ahem. If you¡¯re all quite finished¡­¡± She repeats, her irritation quickly growing.

    Still, no heed.

    ¡°AHEM.¡± The Chief clears her throat again, stamping her staff on the ground once.

    A golden bolt of lightning leaps from her staff and shoots across the ceiling, silencing the crowd in an instant, as they all sheepishly turn towards the Chief.

    ¡°Thank you for your attention.¡± She flashes her threatening smile, inviting everyone to sit down, shut up, and listen. ¡°Now, I do believe as I went around town today with Tiffany, as is our routine, I stressed the fact that the investigation into the missing items was to be kept quiet. That, obviously, didn¡¯t happen.¡±

    Someone goes to speak up to accuse someone else of starting this whole thing, but a glare from the Chief stops them before they start.

    ¡°I have made note of everything reported missing or stolen. Individually, they are small items, but enough has been taken to make a respectable supply pack for someone looking to venture out beyond Haven¡¯s walls. Knives, preserved food, bits of fur, all important and sensible items to ensure one¡¯s survival. Assuming these items have been stolen, the types of items that have been taken give us a clue on the perpetrator¡¯s motives.¡± She continues, glancing across the crowd to see if anyone has the guts to ask what this motive could be.

    ¡°... Someone who wants to leave Haven?¡± I ask.

    The crowd murmurs behind me. Who would want to leave Haven? The only things waiting outside Haven¡¯s walls is suffering and death, a struggle to live day by day. Why would someone leave?

    ¡°That is the most likely explanation, Marina.¡± The Chief agrees. ¡°But I believe it goes deeper than that. Rann?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re meaning what I think you¡¯re meaning, Chief¡­¡± Rann says, crossing his arms.

    ¡°Wait¡­ you mean the thing that followed us back to Haven?¡±

    ¡°You were followed?!¡± Several people cry out, as fear and confusion breaks out in the room.

    ¡°Only down the seeping wound. Whatever was following us disappeared long before we actually reached Haven itself.¡± Rann clarifies, but does little to calm the people.

    ¡°The guards and I have checked every part of the perimeter. There¡¯s no holes. No gaps someone could slip through. No way over the walls, and no way under. If someone did sneak into the village, they somehow got past the wall.¡± Vann adds.

    This just leads to more confusion. Haven is surrounded on all sides by jagged, rough, slippery cliffs, impossible to climb up or down as has been tested by many villagers themselves. How could someone have snuck in?

    ¡°Chief Lichtrufer, if I may.¡± Yvonne, the schoolhouse¡¯s teacher, stands up.

    ¡°Go on, Yvonne.¡± The Chief nods.

    ¡°I fear I may have a clue about who¡¯s taking all these items from people¡¯s homes.¡± Yvonne says reluctantly, wringing her hands.

    ¡°The mysterious 25th student at your schoolhouse, I presume?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°... Yes. I¡¯m getting on in the years, and my eyesight isn¡¯t what it used to be. I didn¡¯t twig that, after our last graduate a moon ago, our body of twenty-four students had gone back up to twenty-five again.¡± Yvonne continues, looking down at her hands. She was clearly ashamed that she hadn¡¯t noticed the additional student.

    ¡°It¡¯s your job to look after the students, Yvonne, and you¡¯ve always done a wonderful job at that. It¡¯s not your fault you didn¡¯t notice anything amiss.¡± Tiff says, smiling warmly. Yvonne smiles a little.

    ¡°You are implying that the thief is of schoolhouse age, Chief Lichtrufer?¡± Anton asks bluntly.

    ¡°Yes. Which is why I wanted to keep this quiet. I¡¯m certain it wasn¡¯t one of Haven¡¯s children stealing these items, and I wanted to avoid a witch hunt in their dormhouse. They don¡¯t need that kind of stress put on them. What they are in need of, though, is sleep¡­¡± The Chief glances directly at one of the windows the children are peering through, who quickly hide and giggle amongst themselves. She sighs lightly.

    ¡°I also wanted to keep this quiet so as not to alert the perpetrator. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t go as planned.¡± The Chief shoots a glare at some of the more uppity villagers, who sink down sheepishly. ¡°As Vann said, there¡¯s no way they could have gotten around the walls. That leaves only one possible point of entry to Haven - the tunnel in the Cellars.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Is there a second entrance?¡±

    A few villagers mumble in agreement to my question.

    ¡°Yes, there is. At the very bottom of the Cellars, there¡¯s a long path completely shrouded in darkness, and the entrance is far from the town itself. In the worst-case scenario, it is our escape route. It¡¯s unguarded as to not draw attention to it, and it was kept secret via few people mentioning it. It would seem our infiltrator found it.¡± The Chief answers.

    A brief silence hangs over the crowded room. For many, it¡¯s a double hit - both the existence of a secret entrance that few actually knew of, and the fact that the mysterious thief is a child that snuck into Haven.

    ¡°Well, if it¡¯s one of the children, our path is clear. We gather the children and interrogate them. Yvonne may not have noticed the additional student, but the children certainly would have. They¡¯ve been harbouring this secret fugitive, and they will tell us where to find them.¡± Anton states. A few in the crowd nod in agreement, as the children gathered outside around the windows suddenly fall quiet.

    ¡°I doubt that would give us what we want, Anton¡­¡± The Chief sighs, side-eyeing him.

    ¡°Then do you have a better idea, Chief Lichtrufer? I do believe it was your last idea that led to this gathering in the first place. The whole village, including the thief, now knows their cover has been blown. They may have escaped already.¡± Anton shoots back.

    ¡°They haven¡¯t.¡± Vann answers. Anton turns to him.

    ¡°And what makes you so certain, Carteren?¡± Anton asks, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°The tunnel through the Cellars has been guarded since this morning, as have the walls. Unless they can turn invisible or fly, they¡¯re not getting out of Haven.¡± Vann says.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Then what do you propose, Carteren. A manhunt?¡± Anton sits back, crossing his arms as he looks down his nose at Vann.

    ¡°Perhaps, but I know who could help with that.¡± Rann says, standing by the doorway.

    Everyone turns to look at Rann; and the three children standing around him¡­ Samantha, Rickard, and a third girl I don¡¯t know the name of. They look tiny next to him. The kids cling to Rann¡¯s leg, their nervousness growing under the gaze of all these irritated adults.

    ¡°Bring them up to the council room, Rann. Vann, make sure the gate and the tunnel in the Cellars are guarded overnight. The rest of you should turn in for the night. We¡¯ll search the town tomorrow. Dismissed.¡± The Chief orders, as the villagers slowly get up and file out from the tavern.

    I assumed I was part of ¡°the rest of you¡±, but a glance from the Chief told me I wasn¡¯t getting to bed earlier than usual tonight. Rann guided the three children upstairs, and Anton, Tiff, the Chief and I followed up behind him, with Vann heading out to presumably check on the guards.

    ¡°So¡­ what am I supposed to do, exactly?¡± I ask the Chief as we make our way up the stairs.

    ¡°To keep the children calm. They seem to like you.¡± She answers.

    Unfortunately, I don¡¯t get to sit in Vann¡¯s seat at the council¡¯s table. I just get a stool beside the table, but it¡¯s more comfortable than the situation I was in the last time I was in this room. The three children, meanwhile, are trying their best not to look terrified as they quietly sit before the council. Rann looks intimidating at first, but he¡¯s quite friendly and sociable once you get to know him, and the kids trust him. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s possible for Tiff to be anything but warm and welcoming. Anton and the Chief, however, are¡­ not exactly approachable. I guess I¡¯m here to help Rann and Tiff round out the irritated vibes that Anton and the Chief constantly put out.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Anton begins, glancing down at his ledger. The children shrink back in their chairs as he speaks.

    ¡°Samantha, Rickard, Emi, thank you for placing trust in us. You¡¯re all very kind for looking after your new friend, and the last thing we want to do is make them feel unwelcome or hurt them.¡± Tiff says, smiling, bringing the tension in the room down a few notches.

    Samantha, sitting on the left, nervously glances back and forth across the council, occasionally looking over at me, doing her best to keep calm. Rickard, on the right, is doing his best to hide his gaze behind his far-too-short fringe and pretend he isn¡¯t there. Emi sits between them, the tallest and presumably oldest of the three. Her raven-black hair is cut in a short bob with a flat fringe, framing her sharp, piercing red eyes. While the other two struggle to hold their gaze, Emi keeps hers locked onto Anton and the Chief, refusing to back down. That is, until she briefly glances over at me in the corner.

    ¡°Why is she here. She¡¯s not on the council.¡± Emi¡¯s voice is harsh and critical, with a similar tone to Minegumo from the kitchen.

    She looks a lot like Minegumo, actually. She may not have Minegumo¡¯s disarmingly soft eyes, but she definitely seems to have her temperament.

    ¡°Marina is my assistant and she has been helping me track down Haven¡¯s newest resident. She is here because I told her to be here.¡± The Chief answers, resting her hands on the table.

    Haha¡­ yeah, told. Not asked.

    ¡°Do you care to explain where you¡¯ve been harbouring this fugitive, children?¡± Anton questions.

    ¡°Fugitive?! He hasn¡¯t done anything wrong!¡± Emi jumps up from her chair, snarling at Anton. Anton just sits back and raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°You¡¯re not helping, Anton¡­¡± The Chief sighs, rubbing her temple. ¡°Ignore his wording. What I¡­ we want to know, is why he¡¯s hiding from us, and why he¡¯s ¡®borrowed¡¯ the supplies for a trip beyond Haven.¡±

    The children quietly exchange glances as Emi sits back down. None of them speak.

    ¡°Are you being threatened to keep quiet?¡± Rann asks. The children shake their heads.

    ¡°If you won¡¯t cooperate¡­¡± Anton huffs lightly. Emi looks ready to jump across the table at him.

    ¡°Have they promised you something?¡± I ask.

    The children¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. Samantha goes to say something, but Emi quickly silences her with an angry glance. It seems I hit the mark.

    ¡°What did he promise you? Something you can¡¯t get in Haven?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°Unless this thief has barrels of sweet-tree sap or the perfect beef fillet, I can¡¯t imagine what they could promise and deliver that we don¡¯t already have.¡± Anton shrugs off the notion that they could have been promised anything real.

    Samantha, upset at Anton¡¯s disparagement of her new friend, nearly jumps up from her chair, saying;

    ¡°He says he knows a way out of-mmmgnh?!¡± Before Emi puts her hand over Samantha¡¯s mouth, just as Vann walks in behind them.

    ¡°Changed the guards watching the walls and the Cellars, all double posts. No one¡¯s getting in or out of¡­ what? Why¡¯re you all halfway out of your chairs?¡± Vann cocks an eyebrow at myself, Tiff, and the Chief, who all leaned in to hear what Samantha was about to say.

    ¡°A way out of Haven? Besides the Cellars and the front gate?¡± Rann guesses. Samantha quickly glances at Emi, who nods profusely.

    ¡°Yes. He found a secret way into Haven. A hidden path too small for an adult to use.¡± Emi answers, taking her hand away from Sammy¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Has he told you where?¡± Rann questions, to which Emi shakes her head.

    ¡°Care to explain this oversight, Carteren?¡± Anton sets his gaze upon Vann. The Chief also looks up at Vann, expecting an answer.

    ¡°Well¡­ It¡¯s not impossible. There¡¯s no gap in the walls, and there¡¯s only one tunnel in the cellar. The cliffs are jagged, rough, impassable for most¡­ but not for someone small, with sure footing. There¡¯s a few cracks and crevices that only a child could squeeze through, but it¡¯d still be a tight fit.¡± Vann comments.

    The five council members exchange looks, as Vann leans back against the wall by the door. The Chief raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°What do you have to gain from knowing of a secret way in and out of Haven that only children can access, Emi?¡± She asks. Emi¡¯s face goes pale.

    ¡°W-well, he, um¡­ He also said he knows good foraging spots, he even knows where a bunch of fruit trees are, so, it could be more food for Haven¡­¡± She stammers out, her confidence starting to buckle under the Chief¡¯s watchful gaze.

    ¡°Emi.¡± She says. Emi jolts in her chair, sitting upright. ¡°What did Mrs Yvonne teach you in the schoolhouse?¡±

    ¡°That¡­ we can¡¯t lie to the Chief¡­?¡± She answers, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

    ¡°That you shouldn¡¯t lie to the Chief. Or anyone, even those who can¡¯t easily read when you¡¯re lying. You¡¯re leaving something out of your story, Emi. A lie of omission is still a lie.¡± The Chief gently admonishes her, as Emi falls silent.

    ¡°... He said he has friends and that we could go live with them. That we could explore the Abyss and eat as much as we want, and sleep when we want, and not have to go to school¡­¡± Rickard, still shuffling uncomfortably in his chair, finally speaks up.

    Understandable motivations for children to have. Haven¡¯s rules are somewhat strict, to ensure everyone gets their fair share and we can all survive and live together, but this can somewhat go over the heads of the younger children. From their eyes, all they see is a bunch of rules that get in the way of having fun.

    ¡°Friends? Does he mean another group in the Abyss?¡± Tiff asks. Rickard nods.

    ¡°... Rickard.¡± The Chief¡¯s voice is now a sharp, serious tone, making all three children shrink back in their chairs. ¡°Do you know if your friend has left Haven yet?¡±

    All three children shake their heads.

    ¡°You kids understand the danger this puts everyone in Haven in, mm?¡± Rann asks.

    Anton stands up, a scowl on his face as he glares down at the children.

    ¡°Risk?! You should have handed him over the moment you found him. Do you have any idea of the danger you¡¯ve put the entirety of Haven in by harbouring this fugitive, this interloper, this- spy?! Haven¡¯s security is founded on its secrecy! Anything that puts that secrecy in jeopardy puts all of Haven in jeopardy! I¡¯d throw the lot of you into the Cellars for colluding with him!¡± Anton snarls.

    I¡¯ve never seen him so angry, let alone so animated. Gesticulating every other word as if he¡¯s performing on a stage, spittle flying from his lips as he admonishes the children. The children, unable to shrink back any further in their chairs, only sit in terrified silence. Rickard looks down at his clenched, shaking hands in his lap, as tears start to run down his cheeks. Samantha looks down and away, trying to sob as quietly as possible. Even Emi, the most stoic and confident of the three, can barely meet Anton¡¯s gaze as tears well up in her eyes.

    No one stops Anton¡¯s ranting before he starts. The children¡¯s actions have put Haven at risk, so they do need some amount of punishment and discipline. Anton, however, just keeps going, and going, before finally;

    ¡°Anton¡­¡± Tiff sighs.

    Anton pays no heed to her as he continues denigrating the three children.

    ¡°ANTON.¡± Tiff shouts, slamming her fist on the table.

    Tiff shouting, let alone her slamming her fist down, is shocking enough even to make Anton stop mid-sentence.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough. There¡¯s a line between disciplining and terrorising, and you¡¯ve gone too far.¡± Tiff scorns.

    She gets up, walking around the table to kneel in front of the children and console them. They¡¯re all crying now, as Anton slumps back into his chair with an annoyed huff.

    ¡°If you¡¯re quite finished then you can leave, Anton. It¡¯s late, and the children should get some sleep. We all should. Gods above know we need some rest¡­¡± The Chief sighs, standing up.

    She¡¯s right. We should-

    <<ABOVE>>

    ¡°Above?¡± I blink, looking up at the ceiling.

    ¡°Above?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Something goes bump in the roof.

    ¡°What the-¡± Vann grabs his axe, as everyone looks up at the source of the noise in the roof.

    ¡°Ah. Above.¡± The Chief stands, grabbing her staff and hoisting it with purpose.

    Golden chains materialise as quickly as they shoot upwards, piercing through the thin ceiling and wrapping around the thing hidden within the roof; chains tying around the rafters to suspend Haven¡¯s interloper mid-air, right in front of the whole council. Around him, stolen bits of cloth, food, and tools fell to the ground; his stash and hiding place uncovered all at once.

    The interloper, a boy who looks no older than ten, squirms helplessly as the golden chains tighten around him, flinging curses at everyone around him.

    ¡°Well.¡± The Chief smiles, crossing her arms. ¡°It seems we¡¯ve found our mysterious twenty-fifth student, Marina.¡±

 Chapter Twenty

    And finally, my stay in Haven has come full circle.

    I woke up in the interrogation room; in truth, it¡¯s just a spare office for the Chief that¡¯s used by a couple other townspeople from time to time. The Chief herself mostly just uses it to store books she can¡¯t fit in her surprisingly well-stocked library.

    I was brought back to the interrogation room.

    Now, I¡¯m the one doing the interrogating. One of them, at least. It¡¯s mostly the Chief asking the questions. But hey, I¡¯m not chained to a chair or getting poked in my wings!

    The subject of the interrogation, however, is in an¡­ unfortunate state that I can fully sympathise with.

    It was late at night when they were discovered, and unfortunately, their hideout happened to be in the roof space right above Council¡¯s chambers. Hidden right under our noses, but not¡­. Under my wings? Something like that. It was decided that some punishment was in order for our little thief and the trouble they caused. So, after they were apprehended and chained to a chair, it was decided to leave them like that in the interrogation room overnight. Partly as punishment, partly to make the interrogation process a little smoother.

    Although, maybe it was a little too harsh to leave him chained up to a chair on his own overnight. His simple linen clothes, consisting of pants and a shirt that¡¯s started to tear around the hems, are covered in dust and dark, reddy-brown stains from dried mud. The awful smell of urine hangs around him, and there¡¯s a noticeable dark stain on his pants. His eyes are puffy and red from crying, his fingernails cracked and dirty as he grasps helplessly at the softly glowing golden chains wrapped around his body.

    His short, scruffy hair is black as night, with pointed ears peeking out through the scruff, and his fringe comes down to just above his dark red eyes with bright white pupils. He¡¯s undoubtedly a child of the Abyss. A child, alone and desperate, trying to survive in a world designed to make you suffer.

    ¡°Uuuu¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯ll never steal anything again¡­ I¡¯ll be a good boy¡­ I¡¯ll be a good boy¡­ I¡¯ll be good, I promise¡­¡± The chained-up boy wails, his head slumped back on the chair.

    ¡°He¡¯s been like this all night?¡± Rann asks, tilting his head.

    ¡°He was kicking and screaming curses for a couple hours. After a couple hours, though, he started moaning and wailing more than he was cursing. The lad even pissed himself after begging to be let out so he could relieve himself for an hour.¡± Vann shrugs. ¡°What are we to do, Chief?¡±

    The Chief gives a brief grunt of acknowledgement, but says nothing. She sits on a chair across from the boy bound by her golden chains, studying his face for any details it may betray.

    ¡°Well. I¡¯ll leave you to it. Couldn¡¯t get a wink of sleep from his wailing last night¡­¡± Vann says, standing up and rubbing his eye as he heads towards the door.

    ¡°And why were you trying to get some sleep on guard duty, young man?¡± Rann says, cocking an eyebrow at his grandfather.

    ¡°An old codger like you would know to value every moment of rest he gets.¡± Vann shoots back in the doorway at his grandson. ¡°Besides, if the Chief¡¯s chains can hold down someone like Marina, they¡¯re more than adequate to hold down a kid.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve earned some rest, Vann. Thank you.¡± Tiff smiles. Vann sees his way out.

    ¡°Miss¡­ please¡­ I¡¯m thirsty¡­ I¡¯m hungry¡­ I made myself dirty¡­ I¡¯d do anything for a bath¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± The boy groans. Tiff can¡¯t help but show the worry on her face.

    ¡°Mia¡­¡± She turns to the Chief, but the Chief just huffs in response.

    ¡°Bold of a thief to be making demands, don¡¯t you think?¡± Rann crosses his arms, looking down at the boy.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even take anything of value! Just things I¡¯d need! You had so much meat and so many shiny things¡­ I thought you wouldn¡¯t miss a little¡­¡± The boy whines, kicking his legs impotently.

    ¡°Little? You amassed quite the stockpile there. You can¡¯t just take people¡¯s things without asking and not expect them to be upset.¡± Rann explains, but it seems to fall on deaf ears.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t just taking it for me!! My friends needed it! I was doing it for them! We have so little to eat or things to play with outside¡­¡± The boy starts to cry, looking down at his lap.

    ¡°How many friends do you have outside here? Are they all your age¡­?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°Five¡­ we¡¯re all just kids¡­ we can keep hidden, but¡­ we have so little to eat¡­¡± The boy sobs.

    It makes sense that they¡¯d all be kids, given the state of the Abyss. I guess some kids are plucky enough to survive out there on their own or in small groups. It¡¯s not impossible to live out there, it¡¯s just¡­ harsh.

    ¡°We have room here, you know. You don¡¯t have to steal from us to survive. We¡¯ll never turn away someone in need, especially not children.¡± Tiff nods.

    ¡°But¡­ I already stole things¡­ I heard how angry the adults are¡­ A-and, you left me like this all night!... I don¡¯t like it here, I want to go home¡­¡± He pleads, struggling in vain against his golden bonds.

    ¡°You might have gone wholly unnoticed if you didn¡¯t take so much so quickly. Grew up on the streets back up above, didn¡¯t you?¡± Rann asks. The boy nods, tears staining his cheeks.

    ¡°Flung from the streets into a hell like this¡­ You didn¡¯t deserve this, kid. You¡¯ve been fighting to survive all your lives, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± The boy shrinks back into his chair, fear suddenly filling his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re the winged one¡­ How did you find me? I was so quiet¡­ Are you a monster? A demon¡­?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ er¡­ I just had a feeling come over me. A gut feeling.¡±

    ¡°Your gut¡¯s pretty accurate, Marina. You swallow a scryer or something?¡± Rann chuckles.

    ¡°I hope not.¡±

    ¡°Heh. Anyway, kid, There¡¯s one thing I want to know. How did you find this settlement?¡± Rann turns his attention to the boy bound to the chair. He doesn¡¯t answer, sheepishly looking away as he sniffles quietly.

    ¡°... You were the one following us, weren¡¯t you? From the stonefields, all the way down the Seeping Wound¡­¡± The boy can¡¯t hide his guilt as Rann clearly hits bang on the money. Rann rubs his cheek. ¡°I¡¯ll be¡­ your gut¡¯s a smart one, Marina.¡±

    ¡°Chief, are you going to ask anything, or¡­ can we at least get him out of his chains? He needs a wash, at the very least¡­¡± Tiff sighs.

    Everyone¡¯s attention turns to the Chief, who has been quietly sitting and watching the boy. The boy turns to look at her, trying, but struggling to maintain eye contact with her.

    ¡°... Marina. The gut feeling that you were being followed went away when you turned off from the Seeping Wound, yes?¡± The Chief finally speaks.

    ¡°Yes. It went away pretty quickly once we stopped following the stream. The area closer to Haven is more thickly forested than the other regions we passed, so it may have been easier to hide-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all I need. Thank you, Marina.¡± The Chief nods at me, before turning back to the boy, her eyes narrowed and her voice harsh. ¡°You can drop the act now.¡±

    Silence hangs for a moment, as the boy nervously shuffles in his chair.

    ¡°... Tch. They weren¡¯t lying about your soul see-er thing, were they.¡± The boy huffs.

    His whole demeanour changes in an instant. Gone is the meek, sobbing boy, pleading for forgiveness and relief from his punishment. Instead, an annoyed, mouthy kid slumps back in the chair, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

    ¡°Eh? Mia?¡± Tiff looks back and forth between the boy and the Chief, a little confused.

    ¡°You think I¡¯d spill the beans from one night in chains? I spent weeks in the jailer¡¯s cells. You don¡¯t have the heart to do the shit he did to kids like me.¡± The boy scoffs.

    ¡°Yet you still put on the innocent little boy act thinking it would work, didn¡¯t you?¡± The Chief tilts her head slightly.

    ¡°It worked on the other stupid adults. I just got unlucky you have lie-reading bullshit, and your creepy winged friend that could sense me from hundreds of tals away. Didn¡¯t figure I¡¯d run into some witch and their demon-familiar down in this shithole¡­¡± He groans. He goes to cross his arms and lean back in his chair, only, well, he can¡¯t.

    Calling me a ¡°creepy winged friend¡± and a ¡°demon-familiar¡± is one thing, but having the guts to call the Chief ¡°some witch¡±?

    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re quite unlucky to have run into some witch and her demon-familiar. You seemed like an intelligent child, but I suppose not if you¡¯d do something so foolhardy.¡± The Chief sighs softly.

    ¡°What¡¯s so foolhardy?¡± The kid scoffs.

    Before he knows it, the chair he¡¯s chained to is now floating mid-air in the room, a metre below the ceiling. The chair and the boy are then inverted, looking bewildered as the Chief raises her hand.

    ¡°Angering said witch.¡± She says.

    ¡°Wh- Aaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!¡± The kid squeals as the chair starts violently shaking up and down, jostling them back and forth while keeping him held upside-down. Any small trinkets and loose items he had in his pockets fall to the floor as he¡¯s taken for the ride of his life.

    ¡°O-okay!! I¡¯m sorry!! I¡¯ll talk!! Just put me down! Put me down put me down put me down put me down please put me down please please please put me dowwwwn!¡± He wails, with genuine distress this time.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to do more than talk to change my mind. You¡¯ve caused a lot of trouble, you know, and it¡¯s quite gratifying hearing you cry after mouthing off at me.¡± The Chief grins to herself, waving her index finger up and down to fling the boy up and down in the air.

    ¡°You witch! You¡¯re just toying with me for your own twisted amuse-meeeeeeeeeeeennnntttttttttt!¡± With a sigh, the Chief starts wagging her finger side-to-side, and the chair correspondingly jolts side-to-side, the boy¡¯s head jerking left and right.

    ¡°O-okay! Okay! I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m sorry! Put me down or I¡¯m gonna be siiiiiick¡­¡± The boy¡¯s face starts looking terribly discoloured as he pleads. Finally, the Chief relents, flipping him right-side up and plopping him back down on the floor.

    The boy, any resolve and willpower beaten out of him, slumps forward against the chains, groaning in pain.

    ¡°That¡¯s better. Now, I¡¯m going to ask some questions, and for each question I ask, you will give me an answer and only an answer. Are we clear?¡± The Chief flashes her patently false and threatening smile. The boy, in no place to protest or disagree, nods shakily in agreement.

    ¡°Good. First question. How did you find Haven?¡± She asks, crossing her legs.

    ¡°The bloodbeast hunt¡­ I followed them back¡­ The winged girl somehow knew I was following them, had to hide¡­¡± The boy groans out.

    ¡°Tiff.¡± The Chief says, and Tiff starts noting things down with her quill from the table. ¡°Second. How did you get into Haven?¡±

    ¡°Tunnel¡­ Cave¡­¡± The boy answers.

    ¡°Which tunnel and cave? The Cellars and its hidden route? How did you find its entrance?¡± She questions, leaning forward.

    ¡°It was easy¡­ just follow the jackhorn tracks..¡± He murmurs, hiccuping.

    ¡°The jackhorn tracks? What jackhorn tracks?¡± The Chief looks taken aback, glancing up at Rann.

    ¡°The jackhorn¡­ Jackhorn burrows run all over the place. They¡¯re too small for an adult to fit through, but a child¡­ That¡¯s crazy, though. A jackhorn will gore anything that gets into its burrow on its antlers¡± Rann ponders, looking at the boy.

    The boy points to a small sprig of dried grey leaves on the floor near the chair, something that fell out his pocket as he was being¡­ shaken upside-down. Rann picks it up, sniffing it.

    ¡°What is this? Some kind of herb?¡± He asks, inspecting it. ¡°Gh¡­ pungent smell to it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hornsage¡­ it keeps jackhorns away¡­¡± The kid mumbles.

    Rann nods, tucking the ¡°hornsage¡± in his pocket.

    ¡°Right. You followed a jackhorn burrow and found the tunnel that leads down to the Cellars. You followed that tunnel up into the lower caves of the Cellars, then found your way in to Haven. Correct?¡± The Chief continues. The boy nods.

    ¡°Good, then my next question¡­¡± The boy looks up at the Chief as she pauses. ¡°What did you promise the children of Haven in exchange for their assistance?¡±

    The boy falls silent as his pupils dilate. The Chief patiently awaits his reply.

    ¡°... What did they tell you?¡± He finally speaks up, his voice soft and cautious.

    ¡°That you knew a secret way out of Haven, besides the main gate and the tunnel through the Cellars. You said you came in via the tunnel through the Cellars. It seems the tunnel has more than one entrance, yes, but there¡¯s only one exit.¡± She smiles to herself. He¡¯s caught in her trap now.

    He gulps audibly, sitting upright and steeling himself, saying nothing.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Hmm. I have plenty of time to get answers out of you, boy. But I¡¯ll ask one more question¡­ Who are you working for?¡± The Chief leans forward in her chair, staring down the defiant child chained up before her.

    The child stays silent, staring back at the Chief in a show of resolve.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name, child?¡± Tiff speaks up, interrupting the staring contest of the century. The boy scoffs, refusing to answer her.

    ¡°Did you tell the other children your name?¡± She asks, using the gentle, kind voice she uses with the children of Haven.

    ¡°Tch¡­ You think I¡¯d give them my real name?¡± The boy shifts his glare to Tiff, looking down his nose at her.

    ¡°And what is the worth of some dead street urchin¡¯s name, boy?¡± Rann says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

    The boy¡¯s iron will falters, looking up at Rann in shock at such an insult, his face contorting into a scowl.

    ¡°And who gives a shit about the name of some scruffy old man who went to hell?¡± He spits back.

    Rann grins, pulling up a stool for himself and sitting in front of the boy, his hands on his knees.

    ¡°My name is Rann Carteren, proud warrior of the Carteren bloodline and grandson of Vann Carteren, the man who left this room a while ago. I could swing a sword before I could walk. I was the biggest, toughest lad in town, and I¡¯d take on anyone who bullied those weaker than them. I killed my first man before I was ten, and he was only the first of many. I was always first in the fray, the first unto the breach, hacking apart men who¡¯d seen hundreds more battles than me to pieces. I was protecting my home and my people, you see. The north is a hard place. Hard places breed hard people, but it also breeds the cruel and the desperate. There were always those looking to seize what they didn¡¯t have from those that did. Why am I here? I carved my way through the vanguard of Grash the Cruel, Warlord of the Frozen Peaks, then I carved him to pieces too. The remnants of his army did the same thing to me. Guess they didn¡¯t have the courtesy to see me off properly.¡± Rann rubs his stubbled chin, chuckling to himself.

    ¡°... Is there a point, or are you just gonna share your life story, old man?¡± The boy frowns, not knowing where this story¡¯s going.

    ¡°You¡¯re not here for your own sake, are you, boy?¡± Rann asks.

    The boy looks almost surprised at Rann¡¯s question, but he gives no response.

    ¡°I know that look in your eye. The look of someone that¡¯s been fighting all his life. Me, I chose to pick up the blade. I didn¡¯t have to. The blade was shoved into your hand, and you had no choice but to take it.¡± Rann¡¯s words clearly stir something in the boy, but I¡¯m not the expert emotion-reader in the room.

    The Chief sits back, raising an eyebrow as her expression softens.

    ¡°What¡¯re you seeing, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Conflict.¡± She answers, keeping her eyes on the boy.

    ¡°... You have plenty here. I was going to take what was needed and go, but¡­¡± The boy speaks up, only for his voice to trail off again as he looks down at the floor.

    ¡°The other children sympathised with your cause.¡± The Chief finishes for him. The boy nods once, and the Chief smiles to herself. ¡°Hmm. We¡¯re doing a good job raising them, if that¡¯s the case.¡±

    ¡°D-don¡¯t¡­ Don¡¯t punish them. I told them I¡¯d be gone within a day after taking what I needed, but they¡­¡± The boy starts, fidgeting in his restraints as he struggles to get the words out.

    ¡°They helped you. It would explain why so much went missing so quickly and quietly.¡± The Chief chimes in, sighing quietly.

    ¡°The other kids¡­ helped steal things for him?¡±

    ¡°They likely did. It¡¯s why I stressed that there was only a thief, not that there were thieves. As I said, I wanted to avoid the children¡¯s dormhouse being turned upside-down by a mob of angry villagers. Thankfully, now that the main perpetrator has been caught and the stolen items returned, the anger in town has died down, so we can focus on what¡¯s important.¡± She says, standing up in front of the boy. ¡°Have the children told you the first rule of Haven?¡±

    ¡°... No one leaves Haven.¡± He answers.

    The Chief walks over to the window, glancing outside. From this room near the back of the tavern, you can see the clear, shimmering pools of clean water fed by the Crystalfall, and the distant rush of waterfall itself, thundering down the stark cliffs that form the impassable walls that trap us all in the Abyss.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. We have plenty here. Not as much as most of us would like, but we have what¡¯s important. Shelter. Clean water. Food. Clothes. Community. Security. We look after each other as best we can in a world designed to make us suffer. If your motives are the same, child,¡± She turns to face the boy. ¡°After appropriate punishment has been given for all the things you took that weren¡¯t yours¡­ You¡¯re more than welcome to stay.¡±

    The boy looks down at his lap, thinking before giving his answer.

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± He says.

    ¡°The expedition team will join you. You can lead them to where your friends are, out in the Abyss, and they can all come back to stay here.¡± She continues, but the boy shakes his head.

    ¡°I¡­ We can¡¯t. We swore oaths to protect and provide for those that needed it. We can¡¯t abandon them.¡± He looks up at the Chief, his face resolute and stern.

    ¡°Them?¡± She asks.

    ¡°The children of the Abyss.¡± He answers.

    Everyone in the room goes quiet after hearing the boy¡¯s answer.

    His resolve is clear. This boy, a child of twelve years at most, has sworn an oath to protect the children that awaken to find themselves in the Abyss, which for the last twenty years, has been¡­ every new person in the Abyss. I don¡¯t know how quickly or how often children have been ending up here, but given the fact that a third of Haven¡¯s population are fifteen and under, that gives me a clear notion of just how often it happens.

    And that¡¯s just the kids that are found, and brought back to Haven. Who knows how many are lucky enough to find another friendly group to take them in. Who knows how many perish long before they¡¯re found, if their remains are ever found at all.

    ¡°Well then, Chief. What are we going to do about this?¡± Rann sighs, leaning against the wall.

    ¡°I suppose we can bend the rules on this occasion. There will be caveats, however.¡± The Chief says, walking back over and taking her seat.

    ¡°Caveats¡­?¡± The boy asks, leaning forward in his restraints.

    ¡°How large is your group, and who are they?¡± She answers his question with one of her own.

    ¡°We¡­¡± He gulps, overcoming his nerves. ¡°We are the Wolf Pups. We protect and provide for the children of the Abyss when no one else will. Sworn enemies of the Bone-Breakers, and oathsworn warriors of the Wolf Que- mnphhh.¡± He suddenly bites his lower lip, stopping himself from finishing the sentence, as if he were about to speak a terrible taboo.

    ¡°The Wolf¡­ Queen?¡±

    ¡°Y-you didn¡¯t hear that- I mean there is no one with that name! There¡¯s only the Wolf Pups! Oathsworn warriors of the- Of no one! Of the children we protect!!¡± The boy blurts out, trying desperately to cover his tracks.

    ¡°The Wolf Pups? I haven¡¯t heard of¡­ well, that¡¯s not surprising, I suppose. Are all of the Wolf Pups children?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°Our oldest are the Red Wolves, protectors of the¡­ u-uh¡­ of the thing! The oldest Red Wolf is eighteen years in age!¡± The boy answers, stumbling over his own words to avoid bringing up the ¡°wolf queen¡± again.

    ¡°Red wolves? Like the pelt Rann wears sometimes across his shoulders?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bonehound pelt, Marina. Although¡­ They do look like big red wolves.¡± Rann ponders.

    ¡°You¡­ you have a red wolf pelt, mister?¡± The boy looks up at Rann. He called him ¡°mister¡± instead of ¡°old man¡± this time.

    ¡°That I do. Took it down myself. Tough old bastard, it was. Nearly took my hand off.¡± Rann smiles to himself, reminiscing his past victory.

    ¡°A red wolf¡­¡± The boy mumbles in awe. It seems Rann has won his respect.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to mark down the presence of another group in the Abyss then. What is your name, wolf pup?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°... Crow.¡± He answers. He has the pitch-black hair for it.

    ¡°Crow of the Wolf Pups. Would the Wolf Pups be willing to accept Haven¡¯s assistance in their mission to protect the children of the Abyss?¡± The Chief lays out her offer.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the rank to agree to that offer¡­¡± Crow responds, looking down.

    ¡°I thought not. Which is why I want to meet someone who does. Preferably, this Wolf Queen of yours, whom I assume is your leader.¡± She continues.

    Crow furrows his brow. The Chief makes a generous offer, but not only is he not in a position to accept it, the Chief wants to make it to his presumptive leader herself. I¡¯ve heard of the various groups around the Abyss that are large or strange enough to have titles. The Bone-Breakers, a roving tribe of warriors who only respect strength. The Keepsguard, who live in a castle and wear full plate armour. Even the stranger ones like the Tall Nomads, who live in the trees and walk on stilts. This is the first time any of us are hearing of the Wolf Pups, but the existence of a group made entirely of children is¡­ well, given the circumstances of this place, it makes sense. It¡¯s just a possibility that no one had really considered.

    It¡¯s not a possibility you¡¯d want to consider.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do that. I have to get back in contact with the pups to share the situation¡­¡± Crow answers. ¡°I haven¡¯t been gone for ten days, so they wouldn¡¯t be wondering where I went. I¡¯m a tracker, so¡­ I track things. I¡¯m used to going out on my own.¡±

    ¡°Where are your fellow wolf pups situated, Crow? How far out did you roam to find Haven, tucked away in a corner as it is?¡± Rann asks, sitting back down and leaning back in his chair.

    ¡°The Dead Hollows.¡± Crow says.

    ¡°The Dead-¡± Rann nearly doubles-over in his chair, looking shocked. ¡°Well¡­ If you¡¯re willing to crawl through jackhorn burrows, the hollows aren¡¯t a terrible place to hide. Close to Dead Man¡¯s Dream, too. I imagine you stick close to there for good reason.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not as bad as you think if you know where to go. It¡¯s cool, the water¡¯s not super dirty. Lots of edible roots and berries.¡± Crow nods.

    ¡°Can¡­ someone explain to me what or where the ¡°Dead Hollows¡± are¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a thick forest riddled with caves, tunnels, and burrows where the smaller critters of the Abyss like to hide. It¡¯s impassable if you don¡¯t know your way through it, and most don¡¯t, so they can only go around it. Those that do try and go through it¡­ well, they just end up food for the trees. It¡¯s just to the north of the place you and many others wake up in, Marina. Dead Man¡¯s Dream. Haven¡¯s situated up against the western edge of the Abyss, although don¡¯t ever tell anyone outside Haven that.¡± Rann explains.

    ¡°And how far are the Dead Hollows from Haven?¡±

    ¡°Two days¡¯ march.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°One day.¡± Crow answers simultaneously.

    ¡°... So¡­?¡±

    Who¡¯s correct?

    ¡°Ah, well. If you¡¯re travelling light, you could get there in a day. We rarely travel light, though.¡± Rann concedes.

    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t need to go all the way to the Hollows. We have camps all around the centre to try and find as many children as we can, and to keep our eyes everywhere.¡± Crow says. ¡°We saw your last sweet-tree sap harvest. And when you captured the wing girl¡­ not that we knew she had wings.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I thought we were being watched at the sweet-tree camp.¡± Rann raises an eyebrow slightly.

    ¡°My name¡¯s Marina, by the way. Marina Retali.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask you, wing girl.¡± Crow scowls.

    ¡°Marina is my assistant, and you will treat her with the respect she deserves and call her by name, Crow.¡± The Chief narrows her eyes at Crow.

    ¡°Hmph. I didn¡¯t ask you either, witch.¡± Crow looks away, turning his nose up.

    ¡°Crow. You¡¯re a diplomat here, remember. A little respect goes a long way.¡± Rann comments.

    ¡°... Fine. Sorry. Chief, and Marina.¡± Crow huffs, begrudgingly calling us by more proper terms.

    ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± The Chief smiles dryly. ¡°With luck and proper preparation, we¡¯ll make it to the Hollows in under three days, and I can discuss terms with your Wolf Queen, Crow. I look forward to our forces cooperating.¡±

    ¡°... We? You mean, you want to come along, Chief?¡± Rann blinks in disbelief.

    ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t I? It¡¯s only fair that one leader visits another face to face for important matters.¡± She brushes off Rann¡¯s surprise.

    ¡°But, Chief, you haven¡¯t left Haven since you first came here¡­¡± Tiff voices her concern.

    ¡°I will be with Rann, Marina, and the expedition team. There won¡¯t be a problem; we¡¯d barely be gone for a week.¡± The Chief shrugs.

    ¡°B-but, Chief, you¡¯ve never left Haven. How is it supposed to run smoothly without you?¡± Tiff¡¯s worries only grow in the face of the Chief¡¯s dismissive attitude.

    ¡°You, Anton, and Vann will be fine without me for a few days, Tiffany. You¡¯re hardworking, diligent people I place my trust in everyday. Haven will be fine.¡± The Chief¡¯s irritation starts to show, but Tiff presses on.

    ¡°Chief, you won¡¯t have the comforts of your warm bed, or food hot from the kitchen, or a change of clothes, or even a pillow, or maybe not even a roof out in the Abyss, are you sure you want to go out there?¡± Tiff¡¯s concern is genuine, as is the Chief¡¯s agitation.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine! I¡¯m not some silver-spoon coddled bookworm who spent all her life in palaces! I told you how many times I tried to run away and how I almost succeeded!¡± The Chief yells, but Tiff keeps her calm, trying to talk the Chief out of charging off into the Abyss.

    ¡°U-um¡­ if you¡­ don¡¯t need me here anymore, then¡­¡± Crow speaks up, his voice shaky.

    ¡°Ah¡­ Yes?¡± The Chief turns to face him.

    ¡°C-can I¡­ go take a bath now¡­ if that¡¯s okay¡­¡± He sniffles, struggling weakly against the golden chains still binding him.

    ¡°A-ah¡­ Tiff, could you¡­¡± The Chief waves away the boy¡¯s chains, finally, as Tiff gets up to go help him make his way towards the door.

    ¡°You¡¯re serious about joining us out there, Chief? Couldn¡¯t we convince this Wolf Queen to come to us?¡± Rann asks, standing beside the Chief as she gets up.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. If anyone tries anything, I¡¯ll blast them back to the Overlands with lightning.¡± She scoffs, crossing her arms.

    ¡°That¡¯s my point. You¡¯re Haven¡¯s secret weapon. If people find out that Haven has a powerful mage, you¡¯re no longer secret.¡± He continues.

    ¡°We have Marina now. The backup secret weapon. Besides, if they know I¡¯m a mage, they¡¯re even less likely to try anything if they somehow find Haven.¡± She sighs, before explaining herself further. ¡°Nothing is going to change down here if we stick to the status quo. If we¡¯re going to get out of here, we need manpower. Allying with, and eventually merging with this group of capable children helps secure our future. I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m not content to spend the rest of my afterlife stuck in this red, muddy, miserable, blood-soaked hellhole.¡±

    She storms towards the door, having made her point.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t agree with you, Chief. I¡¯d just rather not see you get hurt.¡± He calls out.

    The Chief stops in the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re my bodyguard.¡± And she¡¯s gone.

    ¡°... I won¡¯t really be a secret weapon if I¡¯m also going on this adventure back out into the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°If you want to tell her that, be my guest. Her mind is set.¡± Rann shrugs.

    ¡°So you died in battle, huh? Going down in a blaze of glory, defeating this¡­ ¡°Grash the Cruel¡±?¡±

    ¡°Marina.¡± Rann chuckles, heading for the door.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I died in battle, yes. But. Have you ever heard of anyone with the name ¡°Grash¡± before?¡± He grins at me, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone.

    ¡­

    What?

    ¡°H-hey! Don¡¯t leave me here!!¡±

    ¡°Clean up the floor. It¡¯ll make the Chief happy.¡± He calls through the door, his voice fading into the distance.

    He¡­ Really?! I¡¯m the last one in here so I have to clean up the mess?! They planned this! What am I even supposed to clean this up with? My wings?¡±

    One wing jabs me in the back of the neck for suggesting such a thing. I was kidding, wings. I wouldn¡¯t actually- Hey! I said I was kidding! Cut it out!

    Well¡­ I guess I¡¯ll be going on another field trip soon. If the Chief herself is going, then I don¡¯t have much of a choice. Maybe I really am her familiar if I¡¯m going to be dragged around everywhere with her.

    She wants to get everyone out of the Abyss, though. Everyone. And I can¡¯t blame her for wanting to help a group primarily consisting of children. She¡¯s harsh, prickly, irritable, and difficult, but she¡¯s a deeply caring person. I respect that about her.

    Maybe, under her leadership, we really will make it out of here one day. Currently, however, that plan relies on me being able to fly six hundred metres straight up to inspect the state the old crane that helped build Haven is in.

    I can jump two to three metres up with my wings right now. Maybe four with a running start. All it comes down to is practice, hard work, and trust.

    If we¡¯re going to make it out of the Abyss with everyone, then there¡¯s nothing more important than trust.

    And trust is more fragile down here than I thought.

 Chapter Twenty-One

    ¡°Mia.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Marina?¡± She answers, not looking up from her breakfast. It¡¯s the same old bowl of what passes for ¡°porridge¡± down here, which we have every day. It¡¯s only today that it seems to interest her more than maintaining eye contact during our conversation.

    ¡°Are we really going back out into the Abyss chasing this Wolf Queen of the¡­ Wolf Pups that Crow says he¡¯s a part of?¡±

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t lying about it.¡± She shrugs lightly.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t questioning that. What I¡¯m questioning is, are we really going back out into the Abyss already? It hasn¡¯t even been a week since the Expedition team got back. I missed my bed a lot, you know, and I¡¯d like to spend a bit more time with it before being dragged out beyond the walls again.¡±

    ¡°The Expedition Team is always prepared to venture forth with a moment¡¯s notice. It is what is expected from all members of the team.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not officially part of the Expedition Team, I¡¯m your assistant¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, you are. Which means you¡¯ll be joining me, and the Expedition Team, as Crow leads us to meet with the rest of his group.¡±

    ¡°And why would he lead us there? Yes, we have Rann. We have you. We have me. They could still outnumber and ambush us. I¡¯m not assuming the worst about Crow, but I¡¯m planning for the worst just in case.¡±

    She sighs to herself, putting down her spoon and looking up at me for the first time in this conversation.

    ¡°Do you trust in my judgement, Marina?¡± She asks.

    ¡°It was your judgement that allowed me to live here.¡±

    ¡°Mm. And what did I tell you a few nights ago?¡±

    ¡°That you want to get everyone out of the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°Everyone.¡± She emphasises. The conviction in her eyes is clear. It¡¯s her dream, and nothing will get in the way of it.

    ¡°Besides.¡± She continues, loosening up a little. ¡°If we¡¯re going to escape the Abyss, we need more manpower. I want to expand Haven and map out the Abyss. Others have escaped this hellhole before, but the only method ever mentioned is the crane that helped build Haven. Those that escaped via other means never spoke of how they escaped; or at least, no one had the courtesy to write down what they said. If one pathfinder of the Wolf Pups could find a secret way into Haven, they likely know the lay of the land far better than we do. We have resources, shelter, food, and clean water. They have information. It¡¯s a fair offer.¡±

    ¡°I hope their leader sees it that way.¡±

    ¡°I do find ¡°Wolf Queen¡± to be an interesting title. I hope it belongs to an interesting person.¡± She smiles to herself.

    ¡°... There¡¯s no way you¡¯re not doing this, is there.¡±

    ¡°And when did you feel so inclined to complain about everything?¡± She questions, crossing her arms.

    ¡°I¡¯ve just never seen you this eager for anything before.¡±

    She goes to retort, only to cut herself off as she furrows her brow, quite obviously averting my gaze.

    ¡°If you have nothing better to do, go check on Crow. I¡¯ll make an announcement to the town later today. We¡¯re leaving tomorrow morning.¡± She huffs.

    Tomorrow morning. I hope I get to bed early tonight¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°So, how¡¯s the daring little thief?¡±

    ¡°Still sleeping. He¡¯s barely slept since he got there, and that¡¯s caught up with him.¡± Tiff smiles, sipping from her mulled pomegranate wine.

    Mmm, mulled pomegranate¡­ or well, bloodseed fruit wine. Served warm and topped with spices I couldn¡¯t name off the top of my head, but it tastes vaguely cinnamon-y. The warm drink of choice in Haven. It¡¯s almost sinfully indulgent, given the place we¡¯re in, but this represents a hundred years of hard-fought comfort and stability. I¡¯ll take it whenever I can.

    I should really just start calling them pomegranates around others here. ¡°Bloodseed fruit¡± is just a mouthful, even if it has fewer syllables than pomegranate. Pomegranate. Rolls off the tongue.

    ¡°Marina?¡± Tiff speaks up, snapping me out of my thoughts.

    ¡°A-ah? Yes?¡±

    ¡°You look like your mind is elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°It¡­ I guess it is, yeah. I¡¯m not looking forward to charging back out into the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°Once Mia has her mind set on something, it¡¯s nearly impossible to change it. It¡¯s as much her strength as it is her flaw. She¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Agonisingly stubborn?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it.¡± Tiff giggles to herself.

    ¡°It¡¯s not something I can complain about, though. I figured out pretty quickly that the reason why things are how they are for me now is because of her stubbornness.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well¡­¡± Tiff looks away sheepishly, gazing down at the dim fireplace between us before speaking. ¡°The night you got here, we held a council meeting on what to do with you. Anton, Vann, Rann, and I, all agreed that we¡­ ahaha¡­ wanted to keep you locked in the Cellars. Just for a few days, to see how you¡¯d¡­ handle it. I¡¯m not proud to admit it, but you nearly cut out Aran¡¯s eye. You have wings with swords in them. We all thought Rann had captured some new monster of the Abyss we¡¯d never encountered before.¡±

    ¡°You mean, Anton actually agreed on something with Rann and Vann?¡±

    ¡°Pff¡­¡± Tiff stifles her laugh, smiling warmly as she looks back up at me. ¡°You always look for the silver lining, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I can¡¯t disagree with your decision. I thought I was a monster.¡± A soft nudge against the back of my neck informs me of my wings¡¯ disdain at being called ¡°monstrous¡±. Don¡¯t blame me, wings. Wings don¡¯t usually come with swords and a mind of their own.

    ¡°Did the Chief overrule all your complaints, or did she manage to convince you in some way?¡±

    ¡°She let us all speak, say our pieces and voice our concerns as she sat quietly and listened. Once we¡¯d all said what we wanted to say, she asked if we knew what she saw in you when you first got here.¡±

    ¡°With her soulseer ability, she could probably tell how much I was panicking and freaking out?¡±

    ¡°She saw that you were the key to uniting the Abyss, the first step on the path to escaping it.¡±

    ¡°... That¡¯s far loftier than I expected.¡±

    ¡°Rann said something similar.¡± She chuckles. ¡°Mia then congratulated and thanked Rann for bringing the perfect tool she needed for her plans to get us all out of here. We¡¯re stuck in a hole in the ground, and you have wings. Of course, we didn¡¯t know you didn¡¯t know how to fly when we found you, but it was a sensible assumption at the time.¡±

    ¡°But then¡­¡±

    ¡°Why did Rann decide to capture you and bring you back when he didn¡¯t know you had wings in the first place?¡± She takes the words right out of my mouth. ¡°You¡¯re right to question that. Normally, after an adult that runs into them gets knocked out, the Expedition Team might tie them to a tree or something and move on so they can¡¯t be followed. Instead, Rann decided to bring you all the way back to Haven.¡±

    ¡°Why did he?¡±

    ¡°In his own words, he thought the Chief would be interested in seeing you. It was his gut instinct.¡±

    ¡°So it was purely on a whim?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know how men like Rann are with their ¡°guts¡± and their ¡°intuition¡±. His gut instinct wasn¡¯t wrong, though. Mia did take an immediate interest in you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d almost be hurt if someone didn¡¯t take an interest in a strange girl with wings with swords in them landing on their doorstep.¡±

    ¡°She convinced us of your value to Haven and to her own goals, but her true reasons were obvious enough that we all noticed it.¡±

    ¡°Those true reasons being¡­?¡±

    ¡°You were someone in need, right on our doorstep. She couldn¡¯t just turn you away. For all her stubbornness and pride, she¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°A compulsive helper.¡± I finished for her. She smiles.

    ¡°Yes. The reason you¡¯re living under her roof and have become part of Haven, is the same reason why she wants to meet the Wolf Pups and their leader. She wants to help, in any way she can.¡±

    ¡°If only she could just come out and admit that¡­¡± I sigh in exasperation.

    ¡°Oh, but then she wouldn¡¯t be our Mia, would she?¡± Tiff grins.

    ¡®I suppose not.¡± I smile. ¡°How much does the rest of the village know about Crow?¡±

    ¡°They know the thief has been caught. They don¡¯t know who Crow is yet, but given the stolen items have all been returned and the Chief stated that the thief has been punished, most of the furor around town has died down. Of course, there are rumours that the Expedition Team is going to set out again soon, and they don¡¯t know why yet. Or that the Chief is going with them.¡±

    ¡°Have any of the past Chiefs of Haven¡­ gone out into the wider Abyss before?¡±

    I pause, as I notice our current Chief has entered Tiff¡¯s home, quiet and unannounced. Tiff, sitting in her chair that faces away from the door, hasn¡¯t noticed that the Chief has entered the building and is standing behind her chair, as she continues speaking to me.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Yes. Mia¡¯s predecessor spent more time outside Haven than he spent in it. His role as Chief was closer to Rann¡¯s position than it is to Mia¡¯s. When Mia succeeded him, she reformed how Haven was run, formalising arrangements with the kitchen staff and farmers, the craftsmen, the guard, and the expedition team. She¡¯s mostly kept busy with making things run smoothly, paperwork, town meetings, and helping teach the children. She¡¯s never even made the notion of her travelling beyond Haven¡¯s walls until now.¡±

    ¡°Time changes, Tiffany. Where¡¯s Crow?¡± The Chief says, casually joining the conversation.

    Tiff nearly jumps out of her chair, spinning around to look up to the Chief and huff.

    ¡°Mia!! Don¡¯t sneak up on me in my own home! And I was going to bring Crow over in a few minutes!¡±

    ¡°I asked Marina to go check on him, and I find you¡¯ve sat her down for a fireside chat over mulled wine. I thought she was taking too long. Is Crow in the spare room?¡± She brushes off Tiff¡¯s shock, glancing over at the stairs.

    ¡°He¡¯s still sleeping! And you haven¡¯t said how you¡¯re going to go over this announcement to the village! Are you just going to say ¡°This is Crow, he¡¯s from outside Haven, and we¡¯re going to go meet his friends¡± Do you think they¡¯ll just accept that?¡± Tiff calls, getting up from her chair as the Chief heads up the stairs. I get up too, following along behind her.

    ¡°They can think what they please. It¡¯s essentially a rescue operation. Bringing capable and resourceful young adults and children back to the safety of Haven. There¡¯s no difference from all the other times we¡¯ve taken in children the Expedition team found.¡± She stops in front of the door to the spare room of Tiff¡¯s house just as Tiff and I reach the top of the stairs. The Chief knocks twice, before opening the door. ¡°Crow? Time to get up. We have a meeting shortly-¡±

    A black-haired blur shoots past the Chief as she opens the door, barreling past Tiff and heading straight for the stairs, nearly making it past me.

    That is, until my left wing flips out from under my cloak, creating a wall of feathers that Crow runs face-first into.

    ¡°Pfffhhhh! Gheh! What the hell is this?!¡± Crow splutters out, as my wing pushes him back from the stairs as he tumbles over backwards.

    ¡°And where exactly were you planning on going?¡± The Chief asks, glaring down at Crow with her arms crossed.

    ¡°N¡­ Nowhere¡­¡± He grumbles, embarrassed that his escape attempt was foiled so easily.

    ¡°Good.¡± She flashes her false smile as Tiff helps Crow back on his feet. ¡°You¡¯re coming to the tavern. We have an announcement to make.¡±

    ¡°... You¡¯re not going to make me apologise to the whole town, are you¡­?¡± Crow asks, glancing up at the Chief.

    ¡°Something along those lines. Come along now, you three.¡± She waves him off, heading past me down the stairs as Tiff and Crow follow her.

    Crow stops on the step I¡¯m standing on, giving me an odd look.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Why do you do what she wants without her even asking you to?¡± He asks.

    ¡°It¡¯s that or the magic chains.¡±

    ¡°... Fair.¡±

    ¡°Besides, when she fakes a smile like that, it¡¯s best to just go along with what she wants. It¡¯s just something you learn when you spend long enough around her. Her lips smile, but her eyes don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I know that smile. It¡¯s the smile the nobles would give us street kids when they ¡°helped¡± us with their ¡°charities¡±... Just did it to make themselves look good.¡± Crow scoffs, glancing down the stairs.

    ¡°Mm, I know that smile too, but that¡¯s not the way the Chief does it. She¡¯s a lot more expressive than she thinks she is. You just have to watch her eyes - it¡¯s easy to tell with her long, dark eyelashes.¡±

    ¡°What, you¡¯ve spent whole days just staring at her eyes like that?¡±

    ¡°... Let¡¯s get moving before she gets angry again, okay.¡±

    ¡°Fine¡­¡± He huffs.

    ¡­

    The tavern is abuzz with activity as the town has gathered for the Chief¡¯s impromptu announcement. Rumours and guesses are traded in hushed whispers and quiet murmurs. An expedition is being organised so soon after the last one, which has caught everyone¡¯s attention and imagination as to what or why another is setting out. Expeditions usually only happen once a month, so why one now? There¡¯s still plenty of meat, fur, and other materials left over from the bloodbeast. Is there a shortage of sweet-tree sap? Was so much stolen that they needed to gather more supplies that can¡¯t be found within Haven?

    If they weren¡¯t murmuring about the rumoured expedition, they were glancing or staring at the short, black-haired boy standing next to Vann that no one recognised. Did the last expedition bring back a rescued child? Was this child the thief? Some even pondered if this child had snuck into Haven; an idea that was either laughed off, or taken deathly serious. The largest guarantor of Haven¡¯s security was its secrecy. If its secrecy was breached, was Haven still safe?

    Crow, for his part, is not enjoying being the centre of attention. He obviously wants to run away, or at the very least hide behind Vann, but he keeps a brave face even as he¡¯s visibly shaking. Rann is leaning against the wall by the front door, Anton and Tiff are sitting at the Council¡¯s table with Vann and Crow beside them. The barmaids and kitchen crew lean over the counter from the kitchen, as the rest of the town occupies the tables and benches, all waiting for the Chief to come back downstairs and make her announcement. I, for the matter, have found a quiet corner near the Council¡¯s table to lean against and enjoy the show that¡¯s about to begin. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m not going on this expedition, so I¡¯ve accepted my fate. Mostly. Maybe I subconsciously chose this dark corner so I could brood for a bit.

    The door at the top of the stairs opens. Some look back to watch the Chief walk down the creaking wooden stairs, but most keep their eyes forward as she rounds the crowd, walks up onto the stage with staff in her white gloved hand, and clears her throat.

    ¡°I do apologise for calling everyone here on such short notice. It is most unlike me to do things on a whim, but the circumstances have forced my hand.¡± She begins, as everyone leans forward to listen.

    I shoot a glance at Tiff. She gives me a small shrug and a smile in response.

    ¡°Three years ago, when I succeeded my predecessor as the new Chief of Haven, I made a promise to you all; that we would not spend the rest of our lives trapped within this Abyss. There¡¯s an entire world out there beyond these cliffs, and I¡¯ll be damned if I don¡¯t get to see the wider world for myself. I¡¯ve already read every book in town cover-to-cover twice over, and many of those books are not what you¡¯d consider page-turners. Surely, this world has better literature on offer than the exhaustive encyclopaedias of the thousands upon thousands of varieties of moss that grew in some far-off place a hundred years ago.¡±

    The crowd chuckles as the Chief tells her roundabout jokes. Although, some are smart enough to know that she¡¯s being entirely serious in her complaints at the lack of good books to read here.

    ¡°I fully intend to keep that promise. Keeping to that promise, however, requires drastic action to be taken. Actions which shake up or outright destroy the status quo. I do not intend to hide behind the walls of Haven forever. I promised to lead. Which is why I will be joining the expedition team on tomorrow¡¯s expedition.¡±

    Surprise and confusion quickly spreads through the room. Not only is there an expedition planned, it¡¯ll be tomorrow, and the Chief will be setting out with them. Little do they know that this is only the start of the shocking news.

    ¡°As for the reason for this sudden expedition.¡± On cue, Vann steps forward with Crow by his side, as all eyes in the room turn to look upon him. Poor kid. ¡°This is Crow, the newest resident of Haven. He would have received a warm welcome¡­ had he not run off and hid the moment the Expedition team returned. Also, had he not run away and hid, he would have known that he didn¡¯t have to take others¡¯ things without asking to survive here.¡± She glances down at Crow, who desperately wants to hide behind Vann, but he stays rooted in place.

    Thankfully, the reveal of the thief didn¡¯t cause a huge uproar. The stolen items had been returned, after all, and Crow was so nervous and shaky he definitely looks like he¡¯s already received some discipline for his actions. Some scowl or sneer at him, but most are forgiving of the fact that Crow is only a child who didn¡¯t know any better; which is the exact feeling that the Chief wanted to leave people with.

    ¡°Crow.¡± She says, and Crow jumps and looks straight up at her. ¡°What should you say to the people you took from without asking?¡±

    ¡°S¡­¡± He mumbles, gripping the rough hem of his shirt as he glances across the room, from the kitchen staff, across the crowd, until his eyes finally level with Rann, leaning against the tavern¡¯s doorway. Rann gives him a small nod, and Crow stands a little more upright.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ for taking things without asking.¡± Crow says, raising his voice enough so that the whole room hears him.

    ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± The Chief smiles, giving him a pat on the head, which Crow tries to brush off.

    ¡°Now¡­¡± She turns her attention back to the crowd, scanning their expressions before continuing. ¡°Crow is unlike the other children we¡¯ve brought back to Haven before. Crow is part of a faction of the Abyss. A faction we did not know of until we met Crow. They call themselves the Wolf Pups, and from what Crow has told us¡­ they are a faction consisting entirely of the children that have found themselves reborn within the Abyss.¡±

    Many brows furrow in the light of this news. Some gasp in shock, while others exchange concerned looks and horrified whispers. It¡¯s a disturbing thought, a group made entirely of children trying to survive in such a hostile place. It would be almost too unpleasant to imagine; if it wasn¡¯t so frighteningly reasonable.

    ¡°As unpleasant as such a thought is¡­¡± Anton chimes in, sitting back in his chair. ¡°It is only logical that such a group would exist. While we do make the effort to rescue and raise every child we can find, we are no less insular than the other factions of the Abyss. Many have to fend for themselves out there. It¡¯s simply human nature to band together in the attempt to survive such a dangerous environment.¡±

    ¡°Anton is correct. Haven¡¯s security is its secrecy; a secret we strive to protect every day. But we will not escape the Abyss by hiding in our little corner forever. This settlement has already stood for a hundred years. We have clean water, clothes, shelter, books, ink and paper, even a successful farm. Even if our cutlery were made of gold and we slept upon sheets of the finest silk, a cage is still a cage. A cage many of us have never left since the day we stepped foot in it.¡± She grips her staff as a look of frustration flashes across her face.

    ¡°You have yet to explain the point of this sudden expedition, Chief Lichtrufer.¡± Anton comments. The Chief clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, getting back into her usual Chief-y self.

    ¡°This group, the Wolf Pups, have a leader they call the Wolf Queen. The Wolf Pups dwell within the Dead Hollows, near Dead Man¡¯s Dream, where they are close to the centre of the Abyss and well-suited for finding and protecting other children within the area. I plan to set out and meet this Wolf Queen, accompanied by Rann, Marina, and several members of the Expedition Team, to broker a deal with them. What I seek is simple: an alliance.¡± She pauses to let her words sink in for a moment.

    Naturally, many have questions as to what an ¡°alliance¡± between two groups within the Abyss would mean.

    ¡°To make myself crystal clear¡­¡± She continues, as the audience quickly quietens down and listens. ¡°Not all of the Wolf Pups are children; some are in their late teens, but many, such as Crow, are very capable and self-reliant for their young age. They do, however, have many children too young to look after themselves. The terms of this alliance comes down to a simple agreement: the Wolf Pups do provision runs and keep an eye out for children in need of rescue, and in turn, Haven will open its gates to the Wolf Pups for whatever they need that they cannot procure themselves.¡±

    ¡°And you hope this¡­ Wolf Queen will be amicable to your terms? Are you not marching straight into the jaws of the beast?¡± Anton questions, leaning forwards and resting his arms on the table. A few in the crowd nod in agreement.

    ¡°I will be joining Rann, the core members of the Expedition team, and I will have Marina with me. I am also a mage of some renown. If they think they can trick or betray us, they will quickly discover that they¡¯ve bitten off more than they could chew.¡± The Chief gives a self-satisfied smile.

    ¡°You said yourself that Haven¡¯s security is its secrecy. How is an alliance like this not in violation of that secrecy?¡± Anton presses, standing up behind the table.

    ¡°A secret cannot hold a sword. Nor can it cast a spell. It cannot build a wall, and it cannot plan a defence. A secret is a veil. Sooner or later, that veil will be lifted by forces beyond our control; so the best choice we can make is to lift it ourselves. I do not wish to reach out to the Wolf Pups simply as an act of charity. It is the next step in securing Haven¡¯s future. In such an alliance, we are the senior partner. We will be gaining new explorers, pathfinders, foragers, and warriors. Young, able-bodied men and women to help with the expansion of Haven, and those too young to help will be given a safe and secure home and raised as our own. We are helping those in need. It just so happens that by helping others, we are helping ourselves even moreso.¡± The Chief glances back at Anton, as everyone in the room waits in silence for his response.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Anton nods, sitting back down. ¡°You¡¯ve made your point. I have no further issues with this course of action.¡±

    With even Anton himself convinced, there is no further need for debate over the Chief¡¯s plan. Any fears that this was an impromptu, poorly-organised expedition that came about on a whim were thoroughly disproven. This was all part of the Chief¡¯s grand plan to lift us all out of the Abyss, doing just what she promised to do when she first took the role.

    ¡°That concludes this meeting. Rann, I want the expedition team provisioned and equipped for up to a week¡¯s leave from Haven. We should not have to rely on the generosity of our hosts if we mean to present ourselves as valuable allies. We depart tomorrow, at daybreak. That is all.¡± With a stamp of her staff, the meeting is dismissed.

    The crowd steadily filters out of the tavern as everyone returns to their duties for the day. Rann heads off to ready the expedition team, while the Chief, Tiff, and Vann take Crow with them back upstairs. I haven¡¯t been given so much as a look by the Chief as she left the room, which means I have some free time for now. Maybe I¡¯ll head back to my room and continue reading that book I started a few days ago.

    ¡°Quite the orator, isn¡¯t she.¡± Anton comments, standing next to me for¡­ I don¡¯t know how long he¡¯s been there.

    ¡°Ah¡­ Uh¡­ Yes, she is. She even managed to convince you.¡±

    ¡°I was already convinced. She merely required the opportunity to convince everyone else.¡± Anton sighs lightly, walking past me. ¡°You clearly still have much to learn in the art of persuasion.¡±

    Before I can get a word out, he¡¯s already disappeared through the side door to the kitchen.

    Sometimes, I wish I had the Chief¡¯s soulseer abilities just so I can get a read on whatever his deal is.

    For now, though, I¡¯ll go get comfy with my bed and finish that book. Gods knows how many days it¡¯ll be until I see it again¡­

 Chapter Twenty-Two

    When the Chief said that we¡¯d be ¡°leaving at daybreak¡±, I hoped it was just a figure of speech.

    It wasn¡¯t.

    This was made clear when the Chief abused her magic golden chains to lift up my bed and roll me off it while I was still asleep. She was ready to go; fully dressed, wearing her old but well-looked after leather boots, with her crisp white button-up shirt, well-fitted brown pants and her heavy grey cloak. I hadn¡¯t noticed the faint gold outline on the hem of her cloak before, matching her golden eye.

    I was admittedly a little lost in admiring her as she dragged me out of bed and got me ready. She¡¯d put on her best clothes, made sure her hair was neat and tidy as always, with her carefully maintained fringe that she cuts to the same length every week. She wore her hair down as always, with the exception of the cute little twintails she ties up in her hair with long white ribbons that few have the guts to call cute, but everyone knows they¡¯re cute regardless. She was wearing her black gloves with white backs - something she prides herself on keeping perfectly clean at all times. She was ready to present herself at her best. And me, too, as she fussed over me before pulling me out the door behind her.

    Now I¡¯m standing in front of the gate, staring ahead blankly as Arshiya pokes my cheek.

    ¡°She¡¯s not dead, Arshiya. Just clearly too pampered to be able to handle waking up before sunrise.¡± Arshak scoffs, adjusting the leather straps of the heavy pack on his back, laden with thick, rolled-up blankets to go on the wooden cots so we can sleep off the ground if need be.

    ¡°You don¡¯t like getting up this early either.¡± Arshiya responds as she keeps poking me. She¡¯s carrying a similar pack to her twin brother.

    ¡°At least I can get up and go! She doesn¡¯t even have to carry the Chief¡¯s luggage like the rest of us!¡± He yells back, nearly losing his balance as he struggles to get his backpack¡¯s straps to sit comfortably on his shoulders.

    ¡°You¡¯re carrying your own luggage too, Arshak. Remember that before you lose your balance again.¡± The Chief comments, walking past Arshak with Rann to head up the expedition team in front of the gate.

    Arshak, Arshiya, Rob, Johnny, Einar, Rann, the Chief, Crow, and myself. A party of nine, all up and ready to move before the crack of dawn. Thankfully, this time around, there¡¯s no heavy sled to drag through the mud, nor are we hunting the apex predator of the Abyss. No sled, however, does mean everyone has to carry everything on their own backs. Well, almost everyone. The Chief has her own, lighter pack, but I¡¯m only carrying a few pouches. I don¡¯t even get a weapon. Beside my wing-blades, of course.

    Most of the town has gathered around the front gate, early as it is, to see the expedition team off. Not every departure of the expedition team attracts such a crowd, but this is markedly different from any past expedition in recent memory. For the first time, Haven will be without Chief Lichtrufer for a few days. As rousing and convincing as her speech was, there¡¯s still a palpable feeling of uncertainty in the air. Will Haven be alright without her? Will she and the Expedition team make it back in one piece?

    The Chief, staff in hand, turns to scan every face present in the crowd, as they all look upon her with worry. Having gleaned the general mood, she sighs, walking back through the expedition team to stand before the people of Haven.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t take a soulseer to read the obvious concern on all your faces. Which is it? Do none of you have any confidence in my ability to survive beyond Haven¡¯s walls, or is it a lack of confidence in the remaining council members¡¯ ability to perform their duties in my absence?¡± She crosses her arms as many sheepishly look away.

    ¡°Well¡­ Since you became Chief, Haven has never been without its Chief, making sure everything runs smoothly every day and that everyone gets along¡­¡± Tiff trails off, as the Chief walks up to her and holds her hands.

    ¡°And I am leaving Haven in capable hands, Tiffany. Haven has stood for far longer than my tenure as Chief. It will survive a few days without me.¡± The Chief smiles, doing her best to comfort Tiff.

    ¡°You¡¯re certain you won¡¯t be walking into a trap, Chief Lichtrufer?¡± Anton questions, focusing his gaze on Crow, who is standing close to Rann and trying to hide himself from the crowd gathered around the gate.

    ¡°Even if it is a trap, in no way could they have prepared adequately for who will be walking into that trap. Even if they planned to encounter a mage, it is even less likely that they¡¯re prepared for the likes of Marina.¡± The Chief answers, brushing off Anton¡¯s concern.

    ¡°It is quite apparent that you haven¡¯t even given Miss Retali a weapon, Chief Lichtrufer.¡± Anton raises an eyebrow slightly, glancing across at me.

    ¡°She has plenty of weapons. Eight, in total. She¡¯s more well-armed than anyone in the whole village.¡± She shrugs.

    ¡°She is¡­?¡± Crow asks, taking a step before me as he scans me up and down. He knows my cloak is magic, as it hides my wings, but now he ponders what else I have hidden in there.

    ¡°Marina, could you please demonstrate to Crow just how well-armed you are?¡± The Chief smiles at me.

    Barely a moment before I process what she said, both wings rush out from beneath the cloak, stretching upwards to the sky as all eight blade-feathers flick outwards to full length, shining in the dim light of the early dawn.

    Crow looks like he¡¯s seen an actual demon.

    ¡°... C-creepy winged demon familiar¡­¡± He stutters out, taking a step back from me.

    ¡°Well, when she does that, that¡¯s certainly what she comes off as.¡± The Chief sighs, walking back past me and pushing one of the guard¡¯s spare spears into my hands. ¡°Here. A weapon you seem to have an easier time handling.¡±

    I do feel more confident with a spear to back up my wings. This one is made for spearing people, too, so it¡¯s actually people-sized, not bear-hunting sized.

    ¡°If that¡¯s everything¡­¡± The Chief raises her voice, turning to face the crowd once more. ¡°Then I see no reason for us to delay any longer¡­?¡±

    Crow takes a nervous step forward, hesitating for a moment before speaking up.

    ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯m not leading the Chief into an ambush. She made a very kind offer to us, the Wolf Pups, and I don¡¯t want to jep¡­ jepo¡­ I don¡¯t want to ruin it. I promise to all of you, everyone in Haven, that the Chief and everyone else will make it back to Haven safely. I¡¯m sorry for the trouble I caused, and I hope¡­ you¡¯ll be as forgiving to the other Wolf Pups as you have been with me.¡± Having said his piece, he takes a step back, only to bump into Rann.

    ¡°You¡¯re a good kid, Crow.¡± Rann smiles, ruffling Crow¡¯s hair before turning towards the gates, raising his voice to yell ¡°Open the gates!¡±

    With a heave, the heavy wooden gates of Haven rumble open, leaving a channel through the mud in its wake. With a clunk, they open as wide as they¡¯ll go, and with a confident step forward with the Chief at the helm, the Expedition Team sets off once more into the depths of the Abyss.

    Rann, Rob, and Crow are at the front of the group, with the Chief and I close behind them. Einar, Johnny, and the twins from the rearguard, with the group in a rough circle around the Chief and I.

    We¡¯re only moving for about ten minutes or so before we come to a stop to discuss our next move.

    ¡°So, Crow. How do you suggest we reach the Dead Hollows?¡± Rann asks, leaning on his greatsword.

    ¡°I thought you already knew how to get there.¡± Crow responds, confused over why he¡¯s being asked this in the first place.

    ¡°I know a way to get there. I assume you know a better way there.¡± Rann shrugs lightly.

    ¡°... We have an outpost. We can meet up with my squad there, then take a safer route to our base in the Hollows. I can lead you there once we cross the red stream.¡± Crow nods.

    ¡°Ya mean the Seepin¡¯ Wound, kid?¡± Johnny calls from the back of the group.

    ¡°The¡­ Oh. I get it.¡± Crow takes a second before nodding in agreement at the apt description, and our adventurer¡¯s party starts moving again down the winding road.

    Another hiking trip across the Abyss. So soon after the last. I was hoping I¡¯d get time to practise¡­ attempting to fly. I could have complained about being dragged out like this, but the Chief¡¯s mind is set, and there¡¯s no changing that. What she wants, she gets.

    On the plus side, I do get to watch the Chief as she takes in the sights of the Abyss beyond Haven¡¯s walls, and all the confused, disgruntled, and concerned faces she¡¯s pulling. It¡¯s her first time outside Haven in well over a decade.

    ¡°Rann¡­¡± She raises her voice, only to trail off again.

    ¡°Something the matter, Chief?¡± Rann answers, glancing back.

    ¡°The trees are smaller than I remember. And less grotesque than you described¡­¡± She continues, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°You were smaller, then. And you kept your eyes down the whole trek back home.¡± Rann chuckles.

    ¡°Eh? Was she scared of the trees?¡± Crow looks back at the Chief.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that isn¡¯t what Rann was implying.¡± She threateningly smiles back.

    ¡°I-I mean¡­ I¡¯m not making fun of you, I don¡¯t like looking at them either¡­¡± Crow quickly backpedals, fully aware of what the Chief is capable of.

    The rule of thumb of the Expedition team is that you stay quiet once you cross the Seeping Wound headed eastward. As far as anyone else in the Abyss knows, there¡¯s little of worth in the western side of the Abyss, and absolutely nothing of worth west of the Seeping Wound. Just trees, fire pits, and more trees, but every last one of them are invaluable to Haven¡¯s protection. The ordinary curtain that conceals the extraordinary.

    We¡¯re still some ways from crossing the Wound, hence the chatter. Not much else to do while walking across the Abyss.

    ¡°I do have one question, Crow.¡± Rann says, keeping his eyes forward.

    Crow glances up at Rann, nodding for him to continue.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you decide to follow us back?¡± Rann asks.

    ¡°We knew your group. You visited the sweet-tree grove near our outpost a few times. You looked like you had good stuff, but you were small and left as soon as you got what you wanted. It was when I heard you hunting the giant bear to the south. You had a big sled and were dragging it somewhere. I had to find out where.¡± He responds between deep breaths. It¡¯s not easy for him to keep pace with Rann and Rob¡¯s stride when they¡¯re both over six foot tall.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t see us kill it?¡±

    ¡°If I did, I would have known about your freaky wings, wing girl.¡± Crow growls, shooting a look back at me. ¡°How did you know I was following you? How did you know I was hiding in the roof?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m naturally very perceptive.¡±

    The Chief jabs my side lightly. ¡°Don¡¯t lie, Marina.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t have a good explanation of it. I got these wings when I woke up in the Abyss, and I haven¡¯t been here very long. They just¡­ I feel more aware of my surroundings, especially when they¡¯re out in the air. It sends a chill down the back of my neck when I¡­ or they¡­ notice something out of place.¡±

    Crow glances at the Chief, then back at me; specifically at the cloak tied around my neck. ¡°Did the wit- the¡­ the Chief make that cloak with her magic?¡±

    ¡°According to Marina, it was a gift from an old man she met out in the Abyss.¡± The Chief answers. ¡°Before you ask, no, she isn¡¯t lying about that.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Crow raises an eyebrow, before turning his head to keep his eyes forward again.

    On we march. The longer I¡¯ve spent here, the more boring the surroundings get. You¡¯d think you could never get used to being surrounded by horrible, twisted trees with leering faces carved into their bark, always being watched by their hollow eyes that seem to follow you as you move past them, but now they¡¯re just¡­ trees. Spend long enough in hell,  and the mud, the humidity, the cold nights and the smoke-smothered skies just become part of your new, routine life. Though I suppose I¡¯ve yet to see the worst the Abyss has to offer, given what the others have told me.

    Given Haven¡¯s location is a secret, there¡¯s three commonly known areas in the west of the Abyss; the Stonefields, the Ghostwood, and the Bloody Mire. The Stonefields are the only one I¡¯ve witnessed, but given how deathly silent that place was¡­ I¡¯d rather not go back there anytime soon. The Ghostwood is to the northwest, a forest of bone-white trees on cracked grey earth that sucks the life out of anything that steps foot in it. Crow has apparently witnessed this happen himself. A carrion hawk took one step in and disintegrated before his eyes.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Then, along the northwestern cliff edges is the Bloody Mire, which the Seeping Wound feeds into. A large swamp of sticky, cloying blood-red muck infested with insects and carnivorous lizards that live in the swamp. It runs west until it hits the rocky outcrops that form the northern shield of Haven, which thankfully also shields Haven from the smell of the swamps. Mostly. There are still days when there¡¯s the inescapable stench of rust in the air wafting down from the north.

    We reach and cross the Seeping Wound without issue before midday. With silence now enforced along with the fact that we¡¯re officially in hostile territory, the group picks up the pace as Crow takes the lead to guide us to his outpost. Soon, we¡¯re off the beaten tracks that criss-cross the Abyss, trudging through the muddy ditches, ducking under low-hanging trees, and trying not to slip on the exposed rocks that litter the ground.

    Thing is, the path that Crow has us following is clearly one used by people his size. By kids.

    Not six-foot-tall men like Rob, or Rann. Or anyone taller than a young adult, really.

    Johnny grunts, making a gesture to convey that he wishes to talk. Rann gives the approval.

    ¡°Right, Rann, it¡¯s good we¡¯re takin¡¯ this secret path and all, but has nobody else noticed we¡¯ve barely gotten more than a mile in the past hour tryin¡¯ to get through this damn labyrinth of mud-soaked shit?¡± Johnny groans, getting his boot unstuck from between two rocks lodged in the mud.

    Rann takes another step forward, his forehead softly but audibly clunking against the suspended root of a tree in his path. ¡°No, Johnny. We haven¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°This is the fastest route to the outpost. It¡¯s not my fault some of you are giants¡­¡± Crow huffs, standing on a rock that puts him at eye level with most of the expedition team.

    ¡°It may be the fastest for you, Crow, but it¡¯s not working for the rest of us. It¡¯s slowed us down quite considerably.¡± The Chief notes, brushing some dirt off her cloak.

    ¡°We¡¯ll reach a tunnel soon. The tunnel will take us straight to the outpost that goes under the road. We¡¯ll get there much faster than by following the road, and it¡¯ll be safer too!¡± Crow says, pointing forwards to a barely-visible path through the trees.

    ¡°How soon?¡± The Chief raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°In an hour soon.¡± Crow nods. The Chief takes his word on it.

    If the tunnel¡¯s faster, and the Chief accepts that Crow says it¡¯ll only be another hour, then it¡¯s not too bad. I just wish all these branches didn¡¯t stick out of the roots of these damn-

    ¡°Gaahhh!!¡± I yell out in pain, falling to my knees.

    A branch that the Chief pushed to the side to get past it goes flying back once she lets go of it, whacking me on the thigh exactly where Han accidentally hit me with an arrow. A wound that hadn¡¯t exactly healed by now, but it didn¡¯t sting as much. Until now.

    ¡°Marina!¡± The Chief yells, turning on the spot to help me back onto my feet. ¡°By Turona¡­ don¡¯t tell me that hit you right on the arrow wound.¡±

    ¡°It hit me right on the arrow wound.¡± I do my best to smile through the searing pain running up my side.

    ¡°I said don¡¯t tell me¡­¡± She hisses, checking my leg. ¡°Tch¡­ the wound¡¯s reopened. Hold my staff, Arshiya. Arshak, get me the bandages from my pack.¡±

    The twins follow the Chief¡¯s orders, taking her staff and handing her the bandages which she quickly wraps tightly around my leg. These are the new pants Tiff made for me, so I¡¯d rather not get them covered with blood so soon.

    ¡°Is she hurt that bad after being whacked with a stick?¡± Arshak asks, peering over the Chief¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°We are to present ourselves in as positive an image as possible, Arshak. It won¡¯t do if one of us is limping with blood running down their leg.¡± She responds, tying a knot with the bandages to secure them in place.

    ¡°Ah, so it¡¯s for the sake of our image that you¡¯re fussing over me.¡±

    ¡°I can always leave you to bleed out if that¡¯s what you wish.¡± The Chief shoots a glare at me as she stands back up. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get moving ag-aaaaain!!¡±

    The Chief lets out a sudden yelp as she slips on a muddy patch, landing squarely butt-first on a flat outcrop of rock. Everyone just looks on in stunned silence at the Chief¡¯s literal slip-up.

    ¡°Ahem. Arshiya, my staff please.¡± She says, standing back up and dusting herself off.

    Arshiya wordlessly hands the Chief¡¯s staff back to her. The Chief smiles, carefully stepping down from the rock and moving to stand beside Crow. We all silently agree that, for the Chief¡¯s sake, we saw nothing, and the Chief never slipped and fell on her arse.

    ¡°Now, Crow. Can you point to, roughly, where the entrance to this tunnel is?¡± She asks, a smile on her face.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ that way.¡± Crow points.

    ¡°Good.¡± She smiles, holding her staff horizontally in both hands. ¡°Now, stand back, while I expedite our travel time.¡±

    ¡°... Chief, I¡¯m not sure-¡± Rann starts,

    ¡°Stand back.¡± The Chief repeats, as a strange crackling fills the air, and golden lines start to appear and trace out glyphs and circles in front of her staff.

    ¡°Chief.¡± Rann puts his hand on the Chief¡¯s staff, lowering it as the magic circle quickly dissipates. ¡°Not here.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not near any frequently used path, Rann. Why not here?¡± She sighs, flipping her staff back vertically and leaning against it, arms crossed.

    ¡°You fire off a great big beam of light and you¡¯ll attract every living thing this side of Dead Man¡¯s Dream. The tunnel¡¯s not far. You don¡¯t need to blow a path straight to it.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°Tch¡­ If you insist. Let¡¯s get moving again.¡± The Chief lets out another annoyed sigh, setting off in the direction Crow pointed towards, as the rest of us follow along behind her.

    ¡°Girl.¡± Einar says, nearly making me jump out of my skin.

    ¡°E-Einar! Yes! H-hi!¡±

    ¡°Do you know why Haven¡¯s gates are so new.¡± He¡­ asks, I think. It¡¯s hard to tell, given how monotone his voice is.

    ¡°The Chief designed them, didn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Einar smiles dryly. ¡°She destroyed the previous gates with the spell she attempted to use just now.¡±

    ¡­ Huh. Wait, who told me that the gates were designed by¡­ Oh, I know who.

    ¡°I see. Johnny left that out when he told me about the gates.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because Johnny knows that certain details are best left out of future retellings for brevity¡¯s sake.¡± The Chief calls back. Point taken.

    We resume our hike through the Abyss, slowly but steadily making progress as we navigate through the maze-like underbrush of the forest. There¡¯s the occasional slip or trip up, often accompanied by a string of curses, but the path Crow is leading us along is straightforward enough to follow. At a glance, every direction seems impassable, but in actuality we¡¯ve been moving through a low valley shielding us on both sides from any potential interlopers.

    It took a bit more than an hour, but we finally reach the tunnel entrance Crow was talking about.

    A tunnel far too small for any of us to actually walk through. It is quite wide, but it¡¯s certainly too short for most of us to stand in. Maybe some of us could crawl through, but Rann and Rob just wouldn¡¯t have the headroom to fit. Which brings up the obvious question¡­

    ¡°How will this jackhorn tunnel help us cross the Abyss, Crow. Rob and I aren¡¯t exactly jackhorn-sized.¡± Rann comments, crossing his arms and looking down at the small tunnel entrance.

    ¡°You¡¯ll all fit, trust me, just lemme¡­ pull¡­ these¡­ out¡­¡± Crow grunts, struggling to pull something out from behind a bush near the tunnel.

    ¡°Whatever he¡¯s trying to get, go and help him Marina.¡± The Chief sighs, as the rest of the group fans out to keep an eye on the surroundings.

    What Crow is struggling to move isn¡¯t a large block of wood at first glance, but a pile of smooth, evenly-cut pieces of bark, long and wide enough for someone to crouch on. I move around behind the block, helping Crow push them out to the front of the tunnel.

    ¡°Nngghh¡­ There. Ten of them. Enough for all of us¡­¡± Crow wipes the sweat from his brow, taking the topmost slab of bark.

    ¡°I¡¯m not seeing how this helps us in regard to the tunnel, Crow.¡± The Chief raises an eyebrow, leaning down to peer into the tunnel.

    ¡°It¡¯s easy. You just put the board in front of the tunnel¡­¡± Crow drops the slab of bark in front of the tunnel, smoothing out the mud before it. ¡°Then you crouch down on it, shimmy forward, and the tunnel will take you right to the outpost!¡±

    ¡°Like sandboarding?!¡± Arshiya exclaims in glee, pushing past the Chief and Rann to the front of the group.

    ¡°Sand-what?¡± The Chief asks as Arshiya quickly grabs a board of bark of her own, sizing it up.

    ¡°She means¡­ Well, yeah, sandboarding. You get a flat bit of wood and take it to the top of a sand dune, and then ride the board down the dune. A lot of kids on Samarkal loved sandboarding.¡± Arshak explains, as his sister practically runs in circles in joy, holding her board close.

    ¡°Well¡­ Yeah, we¡¯re doing the same thing the redhead said. Just, we¡¯re going downhill through a muddy tunnel. It¡¯s faster and safer than walking.¡± Crow nods.

    ¡°It¡¯s Arshak to you, kid.¡± Arshak scowls.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look that much older than me.¡± Crow scowls back.

    ¡°So we just¡­ grab a board of bark, set it down, then push ourselves in?¡± Rann asks, grabbing a board for himself.

    ¡°Yes¡­ Ah!¡± Crow quickly runs back behind the bush, bringing back a bustle of tightly-packed sprigs of grey leaves, holding them out for people to take. ¡°Hornsage. It means the Jackhorns won¡¯t chase us.¡±

    ¡°Chase us¡­?¡± The Chief mutters, taking a sprig of hornsage for herself.

    ¡°It¡¯s their tunnels. We should get moving now. It¡¯s a straight shot to the outpost, just make sure you sit in the middle of the board and try not to move, and you¡¯ll get there.¡± Crow picks his board back up, looking at the mostly unsure group. ¡°So¡­ who wants to go first?¡±

    Hardly a second after Crow spoke, Arshiya had run up, thrown her board on the ground at the tunnel¡¯s entrance, jumped on it, and launched herself down the tunnel, quickly disappearing from view as she glides across the soft, wet earth.

    ¡°Arshiya-... tch. Always running off¡­¡± Arshak groans, throwing down his board and diving in after his sister.

    ¡°Well, the kids make it look easy. Who¡¯s next?¡± Rann asks, looking over the remaining group members.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡± Einar says bluntly, throwing his board down and pushing himself down the tunnel in a perfect imitation of what the twins had done.

    ¡°Do we really gotta just toss the boards down and jump on them like a madman?¡± Johnny sighs, leaning on his bark board.

    ¡°You can push yourself in, or have someone else push you if you want. I¡¯ll go last after everyone else.¡± Crow says, peering down the tunnel to make sure nobody¡¯s gotten stuck.

    ¡°Well.¡± Rann pats Rob on the back. ¡°You¡¯re up next.¡±

    ¡°I doubt I¡¯ll even fit¡­¡± Rob mumbles, setting down his board.

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re going to find out.¡± Rann grins. ¡°On you get. I¡¯ll give you a push.¡±

    With another glum sigh, Rob gets down on his knees and crouches down on the board, shuffling it forward to the tunnel¡¯s entrance. It looks like he¡¯ll fit. Barely.

    ¡°See, you¡¯ll fit great. We¡¯ll see you there.¡± Rann chuckles, putting his boot on Rob¡¯s lower back and giving him a shove down the tunnel. ¡°Johnny, you¡¯re next.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright. Just keep your muddy boot off my backside, I¡¯ll push myself.¡± Johnny huffs, placing down his board and pushing himself down the tunnel.

    ¡°Chief, if you will.¡± Rann smiles, gesturing towards the tunnel.

    ¡°If you insist¡­¡± She sighs, setting down her board and carefully crouching down on it, holding her staff between her legs. ¡°Now¡­ I just shimmy forward to the entrance¡­¡±

    ¡°See you there, Chief.¡± With a boot to her back, Rann sends the Chief flying down the tunnel.

    ¡°RAAAAAANNNnnnnnnnn¡­¡± She yells back, her voice fading into the depths of the tunnel.

    ¡°Marina.¡± Rann smiles at me. Guess it¡¯s my turn¡­

    I set my board down, holding the hornsage in my hand. It¡¯s got a strangely pungent odour that isn¡¯t pleasant, but isn¡¯t necessarily unpleasant either.

    ¡°I¡¯ll push myself, Rann. I don¡¯t need a ki-¡±

    <<BEHIND>>

    ¡°ICK!!!¡±

    My wings automatically rush out from under my cloak, extending their blades onto to get them all lodged in the muddy walls of the tunnel, stopping me in my tracks right in the entrance as my backside throbs in pain from Rann¡¯s bootprint.

    ¡°Marina. You¡¯re not going anywhere with your wings out like that.¡± Rann leans down into the tunnel entrance, raising an eyebrow at my predicament.

    ¡°You¡­ ugh. Wings. Back in the cloak.¡±

    My wings try to move, getting a couple blades free from the mud, but the rest are more hard-stuck, as my wings start to flap helplessly trying to get them out.

    ¡°You¡­ Come on, fine, I¡¯ll pull you out myself.¡±

    A firm grip on each wing gets them unstuck from the walls, and the downward slope of the tunnel quickly gets me moving again. Way faster than I expected as I¡¯m thrust into pitch-black darkness.

    I have no choice but to keep myself as small as possible and cling to this board and fight back the urge to hit the wing-breaks ahead. I can¡¯t see what¡¯s ahead of me nor what¡¯s behind me. The only senses I feel is the air rushing past me and a deep, earthy scent filling my nose. I thought I could hear the distant screaming of the Chief some ways ahead of me, but the only sound in my ears, beneath the rushing of stale air¡­

    A deep, steady thudding. Perfectly rhythmic. Is it¡­ my own heartbeat? No. I can feel my heartbeat, it¡¯s at a different rate to this noise¡­

    Oh, is that light ahead? Am I reaching the end- Oh.

    The tunnel suddenly disappears beneath me, the bark falling away from me as we reach a larger, lit open space. The twins, Einar, Rob and Johnny are standing in a group, across from two small, cloaked figures. There¡¯s something on the ground in front of¡­ Oh. that¡¯s the Chief.

    And I¡¯m going to land on top of her!-

    As desperately as my wings try to slow me down or catch me mid-air, there¡¯s no saving me from landing right on top of the Chief with a heavy thud.

    ¡°MARINA! Get! off!¡± The Chief yells, trying to push me off her.

    Wait, if I landed on the Chief, then that means Rann¡¯s going to come out any second!

    ¡°Hold still for a sec!¡± I wrap my arms around the Chief as she tries to get up still, quickly pulling her up and rolling us over a couple times, just out of the way as Rann hits the ground where we were with a loud thud.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Rann coughs, wiping the dirt from his forehead as he pushes himself upright. ¡°That knocked a couple years off my clock¡­¡±

    ¡°Marina, while I appreciate you saving me from being flattened by Rann, would you kindly get off me now?¡± The Chief growls, still pinned beneath me.

    ¡°R-right, sorry, Chief¡­¡± I shouldn¡¯t mention how soft a landing pad she made.

    Finally, Crow comes in behind us, landing on his feet in the middle of this¡­ room? What kind of space is this, a cave? And who are the other two in the room?

    ¡°Crow.¡± One of the cloaked figures growls. His voice is as gravelly as Rann¡¯s, but it lacks the dry humorous tone under Rann¡¯s gravel. This person¡¯s voice is just harsh, angry, and bitter.

    ¡°I¡¯m back, Hound. With important news for the Queen.¡± Crow responds, walking over to stand before the cloaked figures.

    The two of them pull down their hoods. One is a taller boy, with unkempt black hair, dark brown eyes framing his white pupils, a nasty scar or burn down the right side of his face, and a permanent scowl on his lips. The other is a young girl who looks no older than ten, with long black hair all bunched up in her cloak¡¯s hood, with a few strands of hair hanging over her face and reaching down to her feet. Her features are soft, with big, red eyes full of childlike innocence. The boy glances over at the eight other people Crow has brought along, including me, with my wings just hanging out by my sides.

    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± The boy says in disbelief.

 Chapter Twenty-Three (Patreon announcement!)

    At the end of the tunnel the nine of us had just passed through, we found ourselves in a large, roughly circular space dug out beneath the thick, twisting roots of the red-leaved trees that covers much of the Abyss. Three small corridors connect to smaller rooms along the inner wall, across from a larger corridor with a thick covering of leaves to obscure the entrance to this hideout. Numerous glowing, glass-like orbs hang from the roots above suspended by roughly-bound ropes.

    The main room itself is about the same size as the ground floor of the Chief¡¯s library and residence, but there¡¯s barely two metres of clearance from the ¡°roof¡±, and this space clearly wasn¡¯t made to accommodate people as tall as Rann or Rob, with both of them having to stoop down just to fit. Our party of nine is crowded up on one side of the room, standing across from the two small figures who have just pulled down the hoods of their cloaks.

    ¡°The group that hunted that bloodbeast? I followed them back to their settlement.¡± Crow nods, standing proudly with his arms crossed.

    ¡°What the fuck are they doing here, Crow?¡± The scar-faced boy grunts. ¡°Bringing them here through our fucking tunnels. Now they know where to look for them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re from a place called Haven. They have clean water, a farm, enough buildings to make a whole village, metal, meat, clean clothes, everything. This is, um, their Chief.¡± Crow gestures towards the Chief, who glances across at the two children as she pats the dirt off her cloak and makes sure she¡¯s presentable. ¡°She wants to help us, and she wants to meet the Queen.¡±

    ¡°And you believed them and brought them here?¡± The scar-faced boy scoffs.

    ¡°Ooh!¡± The long haired girl steps in front of the scar-faced boy, looking across the group Crow has brought with him. ¡°Warriors, even one with a red wolf¡¯s pelt¡­ Archers¡­ A mage, and even her familiar!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a familiar-¡±

    ¡°Hound!! Crow has found an adventurer¡¯s party in the Abyss! We have acquired new party members!¡± The girl beams, running and grabbing a piece of bark hanging off the wall. ¡°One.. two¡­ Nine! Hound! We require a larger party roster!¡±

    The girl waves the piece of bark in the air, showing five symbols scratched into it - two birds, a rabbit, a dog, and¡­ some kind of rodent. Her cloak has sleeves, evidently cut far too long for her little arms, and the muddied bottom hem of her cloak drags through the dirt behind her.

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any adventurers down here, Rabbit. We¡¯re dead, remember.¡± ¡®Hound¡¯ sighs. His tone is noticeably softer towards ¡®Rabbit¡¯.

    ¡°Hey now, kid. I¡¯m from the New World. We¡¯re called explorers around my old neighbourhood.¡± Johnny grins. Something about his grin has always unsettled me a little. It¡¯s not an evil or nasty grin, it¡¯s just a little too¡­ disarming. Not in the kind, earnest way like Tiff, but more like a sleazy salesman. I¡¯d almost call it charming, if it wasn¡¯t for his particularly accented voice.

    ¡°You¡¯re explorers?!¡± Rabbit gasps, stars shining in her eyes as she runs up to Johnny.

    ¡°A-ah, well, I¡¯m not exactly one myself, but I knew a lot of ¡®em! Though, I guess our expedition team ain¡¯t that too different from an explorer¡¯s party¡­¡± Johnny backpedals, which does nothing to abate Rabbit¡¯s excitement.

    ¡°Explorers have joined the party! Our adventurer¡¯s party has been promoted to an explorer¡¯s party!¡± Rabbit giggles, running in circles in glee.

    ¡°Ahem¡­ To get back on topic, yes.¡± The Chief turns to address Hound. ¡°I am Mia Lichtrufer, the Chief of Haven, and these are the members of Haven¡¯s expeditionary team. We have come to meet and discuss an alliance with the Wolf Pups and their leader, and Crow has guided us here.¡±

    Hound glances up and down the Chief¡¯s form, looking unconvinced.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got nice clothes. Shiny steel weapons. What do you want from us other than servitude?¡± Hound grunts.

    ¡°Haven has many children. We give them homes, beds, clothes, food, an education, and security. We consider it our duty to protect the children of the Abyss, to raise and nurture them as our own.¡± She continues.

    ¡°We¡¯re doing fine on our own. You can fuck back off to whatever hole you crawled out of.¡± Hound crosses his arms.

    ¡°How about some salted meat?¡± The Chief smiles, taking out a piece of salted bloodbeast meat from one of her pouches and handing it to Hound.

    ¡°You think you can buy us out by wagging some meat in our face?¡± Hound scoffs, snatching the meat out of the Chief¡¯s hand and taking a bite from it. ¡°... Shit. Maybe you can.¡± His expression softens slightly, taking another bite.

    ¡°Good.¡± She smiles again. ¡°You¡¯ve brought us to your outpost, Crow. It¡¯s time we got moving to your headquarters.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere yet.¡± Hound says between bites of the salted meat he¡¯s chewing through in record time. ¡°Not til the other two are back. Outposts are never left unmanned, and you¡¯ll need more than Crow¡¯s word to get into the Capital.¡±

    ¡°The Capital? Is that the name of your settlement in the Dead Hollows?¡± The Chief raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°... You told them too much, Crow.¡± Hound glares at Crow.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what she¡¯s capable of!! Holding me upside down and shaking me side to side¡­¡± Crow shivers.

    ¡°And when will these other two return?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°Sometime tomorrow. You¡¯ll just have to stay put until then.¡± Hound shrugs, moving out of sight into one of the side rooms of this dugout.

    ¡°Well.¡± Rann shrugs, sitting down against the dirt wall and leaning back against it. ¡°Nothing else to it.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow?! I¡¯m not sitting around in a mud hole until tomorrow! We are leaving as soon as possible while there¡¯s still daylight!¡± The Chief yells, storming into the room Hound entered to give him an earful.

    ¡°Could be worse, far as caves go. Dryer than the Cellars at least, thank Falian.¡± Johnny adds, dropping his pack and sitting down beside Rann.

    Crow moves off into a different side room than the one Hound walked into. The rest of the expedition party just sighs to themselves and make themselves comfortable as they can as per Hound¡¯s suggestion, taking the opportunity to catch their breath and take off their heavy packs.

    Given the limited space, though, most of us are just huddled up on one side of the room, with Rob in particular having to really bunch himself up just to fit in with everyone else. Arshak and Arshiya sit next to each other, leaning against the wall beside the hideout¡¯s entrance. Despite their almost identical appearances right down to their slender faces, deep brown eyes, tanned skin, and orange hair, their personalities couldn¡¯t be more different. Arshak always looks annoyed and irritated by everything around him, while his sister is always gazing into the distance, lost in some imaginary world. Despite her apparent airheadedness, she isn¡¯t ignorant to her surroundings, or her brother¡¯s consistent foul mood.

    The Chief called this a mud hole, but as far as mud holes go, the ground is surprisingly dry and cool. I¡¯d join the rest of the party in relaxing, but Rabbit has been staring up at me in awe for a while now. Well, specifically, she¡¯s been staring at my wings, which have remained outside my cloak since I got here. I can guess what she wants.

    ¡°Do you¡­ want to touch them? They¡¯re soft.¡± And they like the attention.

    ¡°May I¡­?¡± Rabbit¡¯s eyes sparkle.

    My right wing reaches down in front of her, spreading its smooth outermost pinion feathers for her to admire. She reaches out, gently stroking a feather with her small hand.

    ¡°Wow¡­ It¡¯s so smooth and soft¡­¡± Rabbit smiles, feeling each individual feather along my wing, until her fingernail clinks against something metallic. ¡°Oh! You keep a sword in here!¡±

    ¡°In a way, yes, just be careful with them-¡±

    ¡°Ah!¡± Rabbit pulls her hand away, looking at her index finger as the small cut she got begins to bleed.

    ¡°Gods damn it¡­ They¡¯re very sharp, so you shouldn¡¯t touch them or else you¡¯ll get cut. How bad is the bleeding¡­?¡±

    My wings start to fret and flitter restlessly, panicking over the fact that they cut someone without permission. Rabbit, rather than looking like she¡¯s in pain or about to cry, is instead only more amazed by my wings.

    ¡°They¡¯re sooooo sharp! Only a legendary sword could be so sharp! Only a legendary warrior could wield such a legendary sword, like a Warrior of God! Are you a Warrior of God, miss? You have feathered wings! The Queen says no one in the whole world here has feathered wings!¡± She beams, running in a circle around me to size up my wings.

    ¡°Hah. Well, Marina? You been hiding your godly blessings all this time?¡± Rann chuckles.

    ¡°If I was truly favoured by the gods then I wouldn¡¯t be here, would I?¡± I hiss back.

    Warriors of God. A title I haven¡¯t heard in a while. The favoured of the gods, who act as their voice and arbiters among mortals, is what we¡¯re taught. Very few of them existed in my time, and those that did were more bureaucrats and social leaders than the traditional warriors or heroes you hear about in old stories. Still, they had reputations for being very proud and uptight, and they often bore unique physical traits, such as feathered wings, and you could see them all over churches and temples in artwork.

    ¡°Nah. I¡¯ve seen one of ¡®em ¡°Warriors of God¡± before. Marina don¡¯t walk around like she got a spear up her ass.¡± Johnny says, sitting up as he inserts himself into the conversation.

    ¡°What haven¡¯t you seen, Johnny¡­ You once claimed you saw a whole flight of dragons fly right over your city.¡± Arshak frowns, glaring at Johnny.

    ¡°You see all kinds of crazy things on a daily basis when you live in the New World. Even crazier than the things that pass through your ol¡¯ Spice Islands.¡± Johnny shrugs.

    ¡°Ever seen someone with extra limbs that have a mind of their own, Johnny?¡±

    ¡°Not til meetin¡¯ you, Feathers.¡±

    ¡°How do you keep the sword in there? Is it strapped to something?¡± Rabbit ponders, tilting her head as she tries to make sense of the enigma of my wings.

    ¡°There¡¯s eight of them, four on each wing.¡± I say, as my wings helpfully spread out enough to show all eight blades. ¡°They¡¯re part of my wings, like uh¡­ fingernails, in a way. They can fold out to a longer length, too.¡±

    ¡°What did you mean when you said that they have a mind of their own¡­?¡± Rabbit tilts her head the other way.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°They¡­ tend to act on their own without me telling them to. They also like to touch things without permission.¡± I sigh, and as if to prove my point, my right wing reaches out and lightly pokes Rabbit¡¯s nose with its outermost soft feather, making her giggle.

    ¡°Ehehe¡­ But miss, if you¡¯re not a Warrior of God, how do you have wings?¡± Rabbit looks up at me, rubbing along the top edge of my wing.

    ¡°I woke up here with them.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have them before?¡± Rabbit frowns, surprised at my answer.

    ¡°According to some books back in Haven, sometimes people that end up in the Underlands wake up with something new or different on their body. I woke up with, well¡­ nearly everything about me was different.¡± I sigh, glancing down at my definitely-not-fifteen-years-old body. ¡°I had only just turned fifteen, now I look twenty-something¡­¡±

    ¡°Eh? You¡¯re fifteen, miss?¡± Rabbit blinks in disbelief. ¡°That means the Red Wolves are older than you¡­¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s telling the truth, too. The Chief can tell when someone¡¯s lying or not. Nothing gets past her.¡± Rann adds, his eyes closed as he lounges back against the wall.

    ¡°Ooh! Like Mole!¡± Rabbit nods in agreement.

    ¡°Mole?¡±

    ¡°Our party leader! He can¡¯t see very well, but he¡¯s really smart and really good at understanding people!¡±

    ¡°... Are all the Wolf Pups named after animals?¡±

    ¡°The Queen gives us our names. It means we can write our name as symbols, since almost none of us can read or write. Rabbit is one of our best readers.¡± Crow says, coming back into the main room of the hideout.

    ¡°I can read a little bit! One day, I¡¯ll be able to read all the Adventurers and Explorers story books that I want!¡± Rabbit nods excitedly.

    ¡°Haven has a whole library full of books, Rabbit, and all the kids there our age can read. If the Queen and Haven¡¯s Chief can make an alliance, I could take you there.¡± Crow smiles, putting his hand on Rabbit¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°A library?! But¡­ what if they don¡¯t make an alliance¡­?¡± Rabbit lights up, only to quickly come down as her worry grows.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I know how to sneak into Haven.¡± Crow grins.

    ¡°Not after we seal the tunnel you snuck in through, Crow.¡± Rann opens one eye to glance across at Crow.

    ¡°A-aha¡­ ahaha¡­ Well, the Chief is smart, and the Queen is smart, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll work something out tomorrow.¡± Crow backpedals.

    Tomorrow, huh. Guess there is nothing else to do but to sit down and make myself comfortable. There¡¯s space next to Rann, and the ground¡¯s dry enough.

    ¡°Where¡¯re you kids from, anyway? Y¡¯know, before you ended up down here with the rest of us.¡± Johnny asks, leaning forward.

    ¡°The streets.¡± Crow scoffs, sitting down on the other side of the room and crossing his legs.

    ¡°Heian!¡± Rabbit answers with a smile, sitting daintily next to Crow.

    ¡°Heian, huh? We¡¯ve got a couple of other Heian girls back in Haven. They¡¯d be over the moons to meet another person from their homeland.¡± Johnny muses.

    ¡°Oh!¡­¡± Rabbit¡¯s bright smile dims, looking a little sullen. ¡°I¡¯d love to meet them.¡±

    Rabbit falls quiet, looking down at her hands in her lap. Crow takes notice, sitting up as he clears his throat.

    ¡°Rabbit is from¡­ the future. Like, hundreds of years in the future. They have machines make everything in the future, and things like adventurers and explorers only exist in kid¡¯s story books.¡± He says, wrapping his arm around Rabbit in a hug.

    ¡°Hundreds? Marina, you¡¯re the newest person in Haven, what year was it when you kicked the bucket?¡± Johnny asks, glancing across at me.

    ¡°GC 1541. Although, uh¡­ does Heian follow the GC calendar? It¡¯s on the far side of the world from the Empire¡­¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Alice ponders. ¡°I remember that the year had four numbers and that it started with a two.¡±

    ¡°With a two? So like, the year¡¯s 2000 somethin¡¯?¡± Johnny comments, doing the maths in his head. ¡°That¡¯s five hundred years in the future. I thought Anton was fancy comin¡¯ from the 1700s, heh, he¡¯s got nothin¡¯ on you, kid. Are there really no more adventurers or explorers in your time?¡±

    ¡°My parents said the whole world was explored and discovered, and that there was no need for adventurers or explorers anymore. I think they told me that just so I wouldn¡¯t try to get out of bed, though, because the world is soooo big! There must still be more to explore and discover, and there¡¯s always people who need an adventurer¡¯s help!¡± Rabbit¡¯s smile grows as she talks more about adventurers and explorers.

    ¡°Well. You could call us Haven¡¯s explorer party. We hunt, we gather, we chart the depths of the Abyss. We bring back children we find out in the wild to safety. We¡¯ve got the twins and Einar over there who¡¯re good with bows. Einar, Rob, Johnny and I up front in melee. The Chief¡¯s our magical aid, and we even have a mascot in Marina. Don¡¯t see how we¡¯re any different from an explorer party.¡± Rann adds, shrugging lightly.

    ¡°I¡¯m a mascot¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s that, or you¡¯re the Chief¡¯s familiar.¡± Rann grins dryly at me.

    ¡°Ahhh¡­!¡± Rabbit beams, her eyes sparkling. ¡°A real explorer¡¯s party¡­!¡±

    ¡°If all goes well with the Chief and your Queen, you could join us on expeditions one day.¡± Rann smiles.

    ¡°I can become an explorer?!¡± Rabbit actually might start bouncing off the walls if someone doesn¡¯t calm her down.

    It was at this moment that two small cloaked figures suddenly came flying out of the tunnel and landed in the middle of the room, their bark mudboards landing near the hideout¡¯s entrance. They pull down their hoods, glancing across at the group of adults that have all tucked themselves into one corner of the hideout.

    The one on the right is tall and lanky, with thin features and pale skin, a long face, and a few black chin hairs. Numerous metallic objects adorn his chest, visible through the gap of his cloak, shining in the warm firelight of the torches. His hair is short and scruffy like Crow, yet it has patches of black and ashen white, his fringe coming down to just above his stark red eyes. The other is short and round, almost stocky enough to look like a dwarf. His dark brown hair covers his eyes completely, with reddy-brown patches of dried mud all over his hair and cheeks, yet his nose is quite noticeably immaculately clean. He scans across our expedition party, settling his unreadable gaze upon me.

    ¡°Crow.¡± The short one says. His voice is quite nasal. ¡°Who are these people?¡±

    ¡°The bloodbeast hunters I tracked.¡± Crow says with a proud smile.

    ¡°Uh huh. Why are they here.¡± The short one asks.

    ¡°Hm. You¡¯re back early, Mole.¡± Hound says, walking back into the main room with the Chief behind him.

    ¡°We made good time. Do you know why Crow brought back¡­¡± ¡®Mole¡¯ turns to face Hound, but he trails off as he looks up at the Chief.

    The Chief¡¯s eyes widen, stepping past Hound to kneel down in front of Mole, holding his cheeks in her hands as she brushes his fringe aside.

    ¡°Gods¡­ You poor thing, you never underwent the sealing ritual¡­¡± She says, looking at the boy with genuine concern.

    ¡°Street urchins don¡¯t get sealing rituals.¡± Mole shrugs lightly, his tone flat.

    ¡°Sealing ritual, Chief¡­?¡± I ask, standing back up.

    ¡°I was born with my silver eye, the mark of a soulseer.¡± She says, standing back up. ¡°I wasn¡¯t born with the markings around my silver eye. Those are from the sealing ritual; a necessary procedure a soulseer must undergo early on in life. As a soulseer grows, their soul-reading abilities grow more powerful and clear¡­ at the cost of their natural eyesight. Soulseers who do not undergo the ritual before the age of ten go blind, losing their natural eyesight entirely.¡±

    ¡°Eh? You¡¯re a soulsee-er too, Mole¡­? I thought you were just a bit short-sighted, you never had problems telling us apart¡­¡± Crow says.

    ¡°I can still see, Crow. Just not in the way other people do. Anyway, you haven¡¯t answered my question, Crow.¡± Mole glances in Crow¡¯s direction, frowning slightly.

    ¡°A-ah, right, um, this is the Chief of Haven, and everyone else is from Haven also. She wants to meet the Queen and make an alliance between the Wolf Pups and the people of Haven.¡± Crow answers.

    Mole scans across our group again, then back up at the Chief.

    ¡°If you need further convincing, I have plenty of salted meat to spare.¡± The Chief smiles.

    ¡°You¡¯re sincere, but I¡¯ll take the meat anyway.¡± Mole says, holding his hand out.

    She hands him a piece of salted meat from her pouch, crossing her arms and glancing back at Hound. ¡°Well, the rest of your party is here now. Can we get moving to where your Wolf Queen is now?¡±

    ¡°We can get there by sundown. Crow and Rabbit will come with me. Hound, you and Magpie stay put¡­ Magpie?¡± Mole looks around the room, trying to find Magpie, presumably the fifth member of Mole¡¯s crew.

    ¡°Tch- Ow! Bloody sharp that is¡­¡± A voice next to me winces. Wait, next to me?!

    ¡®Magpie¡¯, with his splotchy black and white hair pulls away from me, licking the cut on his finger. When the hell did he get right next to me? Why didn¡¯t you warn me like you usually do, wings- don¡¯t shrug at me! Spatial awareness is one of the things you¡¯re supposed to be good at!

    ¡°Did she have something shiny that caught your eye, Magpie?¡± Mole asks bluntly. I guess he can¡¯t tell that I have wings.

    ¡°She was hiding something shiny in her feathered¡­ cloak?¡± Magpie retorts, only to get distracted as my ¡°cloak¡± starts to move. ¡°The hell kind of cloak is¡­¡±

    ¡°She has wings, you idiot. Maybe you would have noticed that if you didn¡¯t try to steal every shiny thing that caught your eye.¡± Hound growls, before looking back at Mole. ¡°If you¡¯re going to leave, get a bloody move on. Try not to die out there.¡±

    ¡°Mm. We best leave now.¡± Mole says, pulling aside the thick branches of leaves that obscures the entrance from the outside. ¡°Only way there from here is to move across the surface. Single file. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Everyone else looks to the Chief, who nods and moves towards the hideout¡¯s entrance. With a sigh, everyone gets back up, grabbing their backpacks and moving out from the hideout in single file, with Rabbit and Crow at the rear. My wings slink back under my cloak, resting my spear on my shoulder as I follow directly behind the Chief. Under Mole¡¯s direction, off we go again.

    We don¡¯t have to be told to keep quiet here. We¡¯re much closer to Dead Man¡¯s Dream here, and this is not a place that you want to draw attention to yourself in. Fortunately, our path that Mole leads us through long, winding ravines hidden from much of the surroundings, allowing a group as large as ours to move through the Abyss unnoticed. There¡¯s the occasional murmur in the group, and the tension gripping us slowly dissipates as Mole informs us that we¡¯re now moving further away from Dead Man¡¯s Dream and closer to the Dead Hollows.

    Given I¡¯m right behind the Chief in the line, I took the opportunity to quietly ask her a few questions that popped into my head after her interaction with Mole.

    Soulseers are rare, and they can read people¡¯s intentions and to a lesser extent, their thoughts. I knew that. That¡¯s all I really knew, though, and I hadn¡¯t thought about it much since I first met the Chief. I didn¡¯t know that she wasn¡¯t born with the thin red markings around her silver eye, nor what the sealing ritual was, nor how her ability actually works.

    The way she described it is that every face she looks at is framed by a cloud of all different colours, and like clouds, they may take vaguely recognisable shapes. Sometimes someone will only have one predominant colour surrounding them, while others will have a cacophony of dozens of different colours. These colours correlate with emotions, intentions, and desires, although she had to figure out what each colour means by herself through logical deduction.

    She sees these colours as a cloud, but more advanced soulseers see clearer colours, shapes, and even patterns and words when they look upon someone¡¯s face. Hiding your face behind a helmet or a mask may hide your ¡°colours¡± from a novice soulseer, but when you face a soulseer as skilled as the Chief or as advanced as Mole, there¡¯s nothing you can do to mask your feelings. Most young soulseers undergo the ritual between the ages of four and six, when their soul-reading ability has begun to mature but before it starts to seriously impact their eyesight.

    The soul-reading ability matures rapidly between the ages of seven and ten, but their eyesight deteriorates just as quickly. Some soulseers will only undergo the ritual when they¡¯re seven or eight and require eyeglasses to see, but by the time they reach the age of nine, both their eyes begin to cloud over to a hazy, pale silver colour, and by their tenth birthday, their natural eyesight is almost completely gone. They are functionally blind, but they are far from helpless and sightless.

    Yes, they lose the ability to make out fine details or see the expressions on someone¡¯s face, but their empathic ability to read thoughts and feelings are second to none. It¡¯s why Mole needed no convincing when Crow told him why we were here - Mole looked at each of us, saw our sincerity, and that was all he needed. If we were lying, he would have seen right through us. In the Overlands, blind soulseers were favoured as judges across much of the Old World. Juno, the Goddess of Order herself, is often depicted as blind, and blind soulseers are seen as Juno¡¯s favoured children within the Giornovan Empire. The Chief joked that if her family lived within the Giornovan Empire, her parents would have let her go blind as a child and sent her off to be a judge for the rest of her days.

    Before I can get a word out after the Chief¡¯s self-deprecating joke, the group comes to a stop before a tall, twisted tree with grinning, evil faces carved into its bark, leaving trails of dried-out, blood-red sap along its trunk, with thick, dark roots splayed out in all directions, growing over a dark orange rock and gripping it like a tumour. Hundreds more of these trees lay just beyond the one before us. They aren¡¯t that dissimilar from the countless other trees that cover the Abyss, but these ones are bigger. Older. Most other trees have strange-looking shapes that resemble faces on their trunks, staring at you with blank eyes and open, vacant mouths. These¡­

    They watch you. They smirk, they grin with sickening glee. Their body stands unmoving as their dark red leaves drift in the breeze, carrying the distant sound of howling laughter. Their hollow eyes goad you, dare you, to touch their trunks, stare at their faces for just a little too long, to trip on their roots and become part of the bones of the fallen that they feed off of. They¡¯re not alive. No, they have nothing but mockery for the living. The sun is beginning to set in the west, casting long, dark orange shadows across the forest, what little sunlight there is getting caught on every leaf and branch. Yet the forest itself has an unearthly, almost imperceptible glow to it; every tree casting its own shadow, deepening the darkness that dwells in the eyes and mouths of their looming trunks. An imitation of a forest, at best. At worst¡­ I¡¯d rather spend the night in a graveyard than set one foot in these woods.

    The names of the Abyss¡¯ landmarks and features certainly never fails to disappoint or leave anything to the imagination.

    There¡¯s no better name for a place like this than the Dead Hollows.

 Chapter Twenty-Four

    ¡°The Dead Hollows, I presume.¡± The Chief says, glaring up at the twisted tree before her, which stares back down at her with wicked, hollow eyes.

    ¡°Stands out, doesn¡¯t it.¡± Rann comments, leaning on his greatsword.

    ¡°The Capital is a short distance from here. We have some rules to go through.¡± Mole says, turning to face the group as we gather on the edge of the Dead Hollows. ¡°Follow my footsteps precisely. Don¡¯t stare up at the trees, and don¡¯t step on their roots.¡±

    ¡°What happens if we step on their roots?¡±

    ¡°Grinning Gums have spikes on their roots coated with poison. If it cuts your skin, you¡¯ll die. If you step on the roots of a Fool¡¯s Gum, it will eat you.¡±

    ¡°The tree will eat me?¡±

    ¡°Fool¡¯s Gums look like Grinning Gums, but they¡¯re alive, and hungry. They eat anything within their root¡¯s reach.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±

    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t happen to be a ¡°Fool¡¯s Gum¡± over there, would it.¡± The Chief asks, pointing her staff in the direction of a tree standing slightly apart from the others around it.

    It¡¯s virtually identical to all Grinning Gums around it with two notable exceptions - the tree in question has very few leaves, and a large portion of its trunk is stained red, leading up to an open, empty mouth. That¡­ that¡¯s a tree that eats people, isn¡¯t it.

    ¡°You can see the malice coming off it, too?¡± Mole looks up at the Chief, before nodding his head. ¡°Good. Makes avoiding them easier. Follow me.¡±

    Our trek through the Dead Hollows is far more hazardous than any journey we¡¯ve undertaken before. We follow in Mole¡¯s footsteps - literally, as he knows the only safe path through the tangled mess of roots stretching in every direction across the forest floor. Mole, followed by Rann, then the Chief, myself, Johnny, Arshak, Arshiya, Einar, Rob, and then Crow and Rabbit at the back. Every root is covered with tiny reddy-orange spikes, almost indistinguishable against the red-brown mud and orange rocks that they spread out across. The roots of the Fool¡¯s Gums have similar spikes with a slight curve to them, making it easier to grab onto its food and yank it towards its hungry maw.

    ¡°Falian¡¯s brass balls¡­ It¡¯s like walkin¡¯ through a pit of snakes with all these damn roots¡­¡± Johnny groans, taking a careful step forwards over a knotted mess of roots.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see what moving through these roots has to do with the God of Metal¡¯s genitals, Johnny.¡± The Chief mutters in annoyance.

    ¡°What? You too fancy-schmancy for colourful expletives, Chief?¡± Johnny grins back at her, jumping over a large root.

    ¡°This is the fastest route to the Capital. We¡¯re almost there.¡± Mole calls back, jumping over a large root, which Rann steps over behind him.

    ¡°Just keep your eyes forward, Johnny. You wouldn¡¯t know what an actual pit of snakes even looks like.¡± Arshak scoffs, jumping to the spot that Johnny just stepped out of.

    ¡°And how would you know that, huh? The New World¡¯s got snakes of all sizes all over the damn place. South of the Spice Isles ain¡¯t the only place in the world with snakes, kid.¡± Johnny shoots back.

    ¡°Snakes aren¡¯t native to Samarkal. The wild snakes just escaped from the merchants¡¯ ships onto the islands. Arshak and I have never seen them all bunched up like these roots, though.¡± Arshiya adds, hopping effortlessly over a particularly gnarled and thick root.

    ¡°Hah! So you¡¯ve never seen a pit of snakes either!¡± Johnny quips.

    The Chief stops in front of me, turning to look back over the rest of our group. ¡°Do you two have nothing better to do than complain and bicker all the time?¡±

    With a grunt, Rann¡¯s flat-tipped greatsword comes crashing down on a spiked root, cleanly hewing it in two. The severed root curls and shrinks back like a living tendril, retreating into the mess of tangled and immobile roots covering the forest floor.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t much else for them to do out here.¡± Rann shrugs, hefting his greatsword over the red wolf pelt on his shoulders onto his back.

    ¡°Ah.¡± The Chief glances down, shaking what¡¯s left of the severed root off her cloak as it drops to the ground lifelessly.

    ¡°Are you alright, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± She trails off, staring at a particular tree amidst the forest.

    She tightens her grip on her staff. Following her sharp gaze, it¡¯s clear which particular tree has caught her attention. Amidst the red-and-orange canopy, this ¡°tree¡± has no leaves to speak of. Its naked brown branches jerk and bend upwards, in a poor imitation of the plant it mirrors. Two deep gashes mark its trunk, sitting just above a large, shadowed cavity, surrounded by triangular slivers of bark jutting out in every direction. There¡¯s a very noticeable red stain covering much of the tree, running down from the large, gaping cavity in its centre. The Chief clicks her tongue, raising her staff a little, goading the Fool¡¯s Gum to make a move.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a staring contest you¡¯ll win, Chief.¡± Rann comments, leaning over to peer at the Fool¡¯s Gum the Chief is staring at.

    ¡°I¡¯m simply gauging how easy it would be to blast it in half.¡± She responds, pointing the head of her staff directly at the tree¡¯s centre. ¡°Right down the middle¡­¡±

    ¡°Not here, Chief.¡± Rann sighs, putting his hand on her staff to lower it.

    ¡°Haven¡¯s Chief.¡± Mole says, looking back to face us given we¡¯ve all stopped already. ¡°Are you a light wizard?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to describe my skills¡­¡± She answers, raising an eyebrow as she holds her staff upright again. ¡°How could you tell?¡±

    ¡°The golden light around you, surrounding all the other colours.¡± Mole answers, nodding to himself.

    ¡°How¡­ You can even see magical aptitudes?¡± The Chief asks, noticeably impressed.

    ¡°Your yellow light is so bright I have to squint to look at you.¡± Mole states. Is¡­ Is he squinting? His fringe is always covering his eyes. ¡°We¡¯re close to the Capital. Come on.¡±

    We advance more carefully, given the Chief¡¯s close brush with the roots of a Fool¡¯s Gum. It¡¯s slow, literally tracing the steps of the person in front of you through the hazardous mess of roots covering the forest floor of the Dead Hollows like a carpet, but the roots grow less tangled as we move on. Soon, it¡¯s apparent that some roots have been cut away, carving a small, but visible path through the woods.

    Mole raises his hand for us to stop. We¡¯ve made it to an actual clearing; the first I¡¯ve seen within the Dead Hollows. No roots spread across the ground; it¡¯s just orange-red rocks and deep brown mud. There¡¯s no apparent entrance around us.

    Mole steps forward, raising his hands to his mouth and whistling out something like a bird¡¯s call that I don¡¯t recognise.

    Nothing happens, for a moment. Unbroken stillness, all around us. We all tense, grouping up after having moved in single-file for so long. Crow and Rabbit move up to stand either side of Mole.

    ¡°Mole.¡± A smooth voice pierces the silence.

    A dozen hooded figures suddenly emerge amidst the treetops, bows drawn, aimed, and ready. One leaps down from the trees, standing before Mole. Over their hood they wear a delicately carved mask of red wood, in the shape of an eagle, or¡­ no, a gryphon, going by the beak. Their cloak is adorned with long black feathers reaching down to the floor, standing head-and-shoulders taller than Mole. Besides the mask, the only other splash of colour on this figure cloaked in blackness is a scruffy, fuzzy tail of red fur hanging from his shoulder. A sharp blade glints in the dim light beneath their cloak.

    ¡°Griffin.¡± Mole responds.

    Griffin, the masked figure, tilts their head up to look across us, then back down at Mole. Their face is completely obscured by their mask, styled after a gryphon¡¯s head.

    ¡°Crow. Rabbit. The three of you must have a very good reason for bringing these people here.¡± Griffin¡¯s voice is smooth as silk, but you can hear the knives beneath, the veiled threat in his calm words.

    ¡°They¡¯re the leader and representatives of Haven. Crow found them.¡± Mole answers calmly.

    ¡°Haven? The Haven?¡± Griffin scans across our group again, then looks down at Crow. ¡°and Crow found it? I¡¯m not sure if Jackhorn will be pleased, or jealous.¡± He laughs. A fake laugh, intended to put you at ease.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that hard to find it¡­ I just followed their hunting party back.¡± Crow says, his voice lower and a little shaky.

    ¡°I see, I see¡­ and this answers my question how, exactly?¡± Griffin looms over the three children, making full use of his height and mask to intimidate them.

    ¡°Ahem¡­ if you¡¯ll allow me.¡± The Chief steps forward, catching Griffin¡¯s attention. ¡°I am Mia Lichtrufer, Chief of Haven, and these are the members of Haven¡¯s Expeditionary Team. We have come to meet with the Wolf Queen in person, with the intention of establishing friendly relations between our two factions in the Abyss.¡±

    Griffin stares at the Chief for a moment. ¡°Friendly relations, hmm. That¡¯s the story you used to get this far.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s sincere, Griffin.¡± Mole comments.

    ¡°To your clouded eyes, perhaps. People her age are far more experienced liars.¡± Griffin isn¡¯t convinced.

    ¡°The Queen trusts in my judgement¡­¡± Mole adds, which does little to convince Griffin.

    ¡°Don¡¯t disparage the boy¡¯s abilities. He lost his natural sight for them. Or do you really think that mask does anything to hide your true feelings?¡± The Chief raises an eyebrow at Griffin.

    ¡°And what would you know of my ¡°true feelings¡±, woman?¡± Griffin retorts.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Uncertainty.¡± Mole and the Chief answer simultaneously.

    ¡°Gh¡­¡± Griffin fights the impulse to recoil back upon being correctly called out. ¡°Well. You said you¡¯re here to establish ¡°friendly relations¡±. You are well-equipped, well-armed, and well-provisioned. What could you possibly want from a bunch of orphans like us?¡±

    ¡°To help each other.¡± She responds. ¡°We have many children in Haven. Looked after, given food, clothes, and shelter, with a schoolhouse and a growing number of trades to learn. All we ask for in return is your help securing provisions outside Haven and to help bring newly discovered children back to safety in Haven.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Griffin ponders, glancing back down at Crow. ¡°Has anyone else from your unit seen Haven for themselves, Crow?¡±

    ¡°N¡­ No. They¡­ they found me, when I was scouting Haven. They made me bring them here, but¡­¡± Crow looks up at Griffin, steeling himself. ¡°I believe that they want to help us. The children of Haven even tried to help me and keep me hidden from the adults.¡±

    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± Griffin sighs, relaxing his stance. ¡°I suppose I should leave this to the Queen¡¯s decision¡­ I¡¯d never hear the end of it if I turned away a situation as interesting as this. Alright. Open the gates, we¡¯ll see about arranging an audience with the Queen.¡±

    With a rumble, the wall of branches and leaves on the other side of the clearing begins to move, lifting upwards to reveal a wide, deep cave entrance. Four cloaked figures with masks over their eyes march out on either side of the entrance, standing to attention with bone-tipped spears in one hand, holding their other arm across their chest with their hand outstretched and flat in a salute.

    ¡°If you¡¯d be so kind as to follow me.¡± Griffin gestures towards the entrance to the Capital.

    ¡°Well.¡± The Chief smiles. ¡°Let¡¯s meet the queen, shall we?¡±

    The eight of us from Haven, Rabbit, Mole, and Crow follow closely behind Griffin as we descend into the cave. The entrance itself is dark, but the wide open subterranean space it leads to is brightly lit with dozens of glowing orbs hanging from the cave¡¯s ceiling. No, to call it a cave is to do it a disservice - it is the bustling heart of a thriving village. Carefully laid smooth stones form a town circle, with six paths running off to the left and the right, and a seventh, the grandest of them all, opposite the entrance we stand in. Yet grander, and stranger still is what lays at the centre of this space.

    A bubbling fountain, carved from pristine white marble, overflowing with clear, blue water. Small figures move back and forth, taking water from the fountain to drink, running from room to room, market stand to market stand. Dozens of them. Many aren¡¯t even half my height in stature. The attention of the crowd is quickly drawn to the group of adults that have just entered their sanctuary. Some, presumably guards given their cloaks and masks, stand to attention with spears in hands, while many move up to simply look at us, with concern and confusion as to just what we¡¯re doing here.

    ¡°Move aside.¡± Griffin commands. ¡°These are guests of the Queen.¡±

    The crowd quickly parts, opening a path through past the fountain. Griffin¡¯s words carry weight in these halls. All nod in respect as he passes, even the children that look barely five years of age.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The Chief pauses, resting her hand on the edge of the fountain, peering into its blue waters.

    ¡°Clean water outside of Haven¡­¡±

    ¡°No small feat, this level of purification¡­ certainly a mage of some skill.¡± She muses, before moving on with our group.

    Along the grand seventh road we follow, out of the underground clearing and along a corridor lined with rough-woven curtains. At its end lay double doors of carved red wood. Two smaller doors stand either side of the corridor just before it, beside long, low, wooden benches.

    ¡°Now¡­¡± Griffin turns to face us, clasping his hands. ¡°If all of you could lay down your arms and hand them to the guards here.¡± He smiles, gesturing to the four guards that enter from one of the side doors, standing to attention and giving the same salute from earlier. Are these the same ones from earlier¡­?

    ¡°The three of you will be following me. The Queen is eager to hear about your dealings with the people of Haven, Crow.¡± The double doors open, showing the winding path beyond which Griffin, Mole, Crow, and Rabbit traverse down, the doors closing behind them with a thud.

    ¡°Ahem. Your weapons please.¡± A guard asks, holding out his hand.

    It¡¯s an odd scene. Four children with spears fashioned from rough sticks and sharpened bones, asking for the bows and iron weapons of eight adults.

    ¡°Well.¡± Rann shrugs, unholstering his greatsword and leaning it against the corridor¡¯s wall. ¡°You heard them. Is it fine to leave this here?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take it with us¡­ Er¡­¡± The guard trails off, watching another guard trying - and failing - to pick up, let alone move Rann¡¯s greatsword. ¡°You can leave them here.¡±

    The group grunts in acknowledgement, putting down their spears, taking swords from belts, removing quivers, and carefully leaning bows against the walls. I place my spear against the wall, but¡­ I can¡¯t exactly take off my wings.

    Not that they know I have them. Crow, Mole, and Rabbit aren¡¯t here right now.

    ¡°Your staff, ma¡¯am.¡± A guard asks the Chief.

    ¡°What about my staff?¡± She responds, leaning on her staff.

    ¡°You can¡¯t have it on you when you see the queen.¡± The guard explains calmly.

    ¡°Then I won¡¯t have it on me.¡± With a smile, the Chief¡¯s staff disintegrates into golden sparkles that quickly dissipate. Her staff is gone.

    ¡°That¡­ Does that count¡­?¡± The guard looks at another, confused. The other guard nods and shrugs.

    ¡°Anything under your cloak, ma¡¯am?¡± The third guard asks me. Gods, they¡¯re all so small¡­ But, uh¡­

    The Chief shoots me a look. I understand.

    ¡°... No. Nothing underneath it.¡±

    ¡°Good. Please wait here, the Queen will see you shortly.¡± The four guards salute once more, leaving the corridor as we all set down our backpacks and pouches, sitting down on the benches and waiting for our appointment.

    ¡°Waiting in the parlour to see the Queen¡­ And I thought my life had improved from the last.¡± The Chief sighs, crossing her arms and leaning back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t imagine anyone waiting in a parlour for the queen with their arms crossed, Chief.¡± Rann comments, mirroring the Chief¡¯s pose.

    ¡°We¡¯re in a cave inhabited entirely by children led by a figure who calls herself a queen. I¡¯m maintaining as much candour as I can in such a nonsensical situation. Still¡­¡± The Chief glances down the corridor. It¡¯s well lit, and despite being underground, the stone pathway is immaculately clean. ¡°I can¡¯t discredit the effort and dedication it would take to build such a place. Nor the effort to keep stone walkways so clean in a cave¡­¡±

    ¡°They have a marble fountain with water as clean as the Crystalfall¡¯s, beneath a forest with living trees that eat people. This whole place doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± Arshak huffs, leaning against the wall.

    ¡°This is the Abyss, Arshak. I thought you¡¯ve been on the team long enough to know that nothing makes sense down here.¡± Rann comments.

    ¡°Going by what we¡¯ve seen, they have expert pathfinders, a mage of some skill, and talented woodcarvers. All would be greatly helpful towards Haven¡¯s future.¡± The Chief nods. She¡¯s kept a sharp eye on her surroundings since she got here.

    ¡°You think they¡¯ll agree to workin¡¯ together, Chief?¡± Johnny asks.

    ¡°We made it this far.¡± She shrugs. ¡°So far, things have gone better than I expected.¡±

    We more or less settle in and wait. Small crowds constantly form around the end of the corridor in the settlement¡¯s main space, before being quickly shooed away by the guards. We¡¯re too far to hear anything particular, but there¡¯s an air of intrigue and excitement. This is probably the first time a group of adults have been allowed to come here, judging by the age demographics of the Wolf Pups.

    A lot of the attention is focused on Rann, wearing a ¡°red wolf¡¯s¡± pelt that the Wolf Pups see as an impressive status symbol. Griffin, one of the leaders of the Wolf Pups is presumably a Red Wolf himself, had only a tail on his person. Rann wears a full pelt across his shoulders; its white fangs bared and its empty eyes ever watchful. Some point at the Chief and her eyes, Rob and how tall he is, or Arshak and Arshiya for their similar orange hair. Johnny, Einar, and I don¡¯t draw much attention compared to the others.

    Crow, Mole, and Rabbit have probably told the Queen everything they know about us, though. My wings, the Chief¡¯s magic and soulseer status. We won¡¯t have the element of surprise in an engagement, but that¡¯s not what we¡¯re here for. We¡¯re here for an alliance. Hopefully, Crow is talking about what he saw at Haven; the relative plenty we enjoyed, a safe, secure location, a close-knit and nurturing community dedicated to its young. A community that the Chief wishes to invite others to, so that they may grow together.

    After some time, the double wooden doors creak, slowly pushing open as they drag across the flagstones. The same four guards from earlier stand at attention to greet us, standing either side of the corridor.

    ¡°The Queen will see you now.¡± One speaks, and we all rise.

    Two guards lead from the front, with the Chief behind them and the rest of us following double-file, with the last two guards closing the door behind us. The corridor we follow rounds a corner, delving deeper into the earth. Red and orange vines hang from the ceiling and adorn the walls, with several small, glowing orbs hanging from reach, illuminating the tunnel in almost perfect daylight. We walk in silence, until coming to another set of double doors of red wood, which bear an intricately carved wolf¡¯s head upon them, surrounded by smaller depictions of four other animals; a bear, a jackhorn, a gryphon, and a bull.

    ¡°To the Queen of the Wolves of the Abyss, I present;¡± Griffin calls, as the doors start to creak open, revealing the throne room before us. ¡°The Chief of Haven and her People.¡±

    Our escorting guards march forward, standing either side of the corridor once more and saluting as we enter the throne room.

    It¡¯s almost an unbelievable sight. I know I say that a lot down here and yes, you think you¡¯d get used to it, but this is just completely different all over again. Marble-white flagstones line the floor, just as the walls are built from off-white stone blocks, buttressing the deep earthen roof above. Shallow canals of crystal-clear water run along the floor from the doors to the far side of the room, leading up long, wide steps, across the stone podium and to another fountain identical to the one we passed in this settlement¡¯s heart.

    Four figures sit on the podium across from us. Four spots are marked for four to sit on the same level, while the central position is elevated. To the left sit two; the first is a tall, lanky figure, sitting legs crossed with their hand on their knees and wearing a mask of red wood carved like a rabbit¡¯s head with deer-like antlers jutting upwards. The second is someone as burly and stocky as Rann, just maybe half a foot shorter than him, kneeling rather than sitting, their mask in the shape of a bull¡¯s face, with long, heavy horns hanging from their head. To the right, beside the empty spot, sits a muscular figure in a contemplative pose, with their mask clearly carved in the shape of a bear¡¯s head. Each wears a segment of red fur somewhere on their person - the skin of a Red Wolf.

    At their zenith sits the most striking figure of all. Their wolf-like mask is adorned with red gemstones in its cheeks and ears that glitter in the sunlight coming down through the cave roof that¡¯s far too bright to be real. Their body is wrapped in dark brown cloth, spreading across their podium and hanging off the sides. Something is off about their posture; the way the cloth sits across their body hints at additional limbs beyond the number you¡¯d expect a human to have. If they¡¯re human at all. The only visible skin is their neck, which is almost ghostly pale, and their outstretched hand, gripping a staff of smooth white wood adorned with a brilliant red gemstone the size of a clenched fist. Their posture, their stature, their seat, says it all; we have earned an audience with the Wolf Queen.

    ¡°Finally.¡± The Queen speaks. Her voice is smooth, sultry, and certainly mature, in the tone one would use when conversing with a dear friend, yet it fills the room and rings in your ears long after she finishes speaking. It¡¯s almost reminiscent of Tiff¡¯s voice, with the comforting, disarming factor turned up to eleven.

    ¡°The fabled people of Haven, the hidden paradise of the Abyss, come to my doorstep to parley.¡± She tilts her head slightly, the wolf mask¡¯s gaze settling upon the Chief. ¡°You must be Mia Lichtrufer, their Chief, come to meet the Queen in person. Your sincerity and respect is graciously accepted.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty.¡± The Chief nods her head forwards and curtseys, despite her lack of skirt, with the effortlessness of one who has practised the rituals of the court all their life. ¡°Mia Lichtrufer, Chief of Haven and representative of its people, at your service.¡±

    Rann kneels down on one leg, lowering his head in respect, a motion the rest of us quickly copy.

    ¡°You have travelled far, through treacherous lands, to reach the throne room of the Capital, guided by my children no less. You treated them well and with respect, as they tell me, especially little Crow. I am most impressed that it was he who first found the hidden town of Haven; a treasure some have spent all their lives searching for.¡± The Queen speaks, her soft, dulcet words flowing like silken banners dancing in the wind.

    ¡°He showed me many things I myself did not know about my home. What fills my heart with pride more than anything else is how the children of Haven treated him like one of their own upon discovering him; even putting themselves in trouble just to help him. As their leader and one of their mentors, small things such as that show that I am raising them well.¡± The Chief smiles, remaining in her pose of respect as the rest of us do.

    ¡°And yet.¡± You can hear the Queen¡¯s smile through her mask. ¡°You thought you would still hold the upper hand, even here in my own throne room.¡±

    The slow-moving water through the shallow canals of the floor suddenly surges forth, covering the ground around our legs in a thin layer of water, driven by sorcery upwards into our boots and pants before flash-freezing solid, trapping us in place.

    ¡°You are in my domain, people of Haven.¡± The Queen rises, the red gemstone of her staff sparkling in the light as her impassive mask glowers down at us. ¡°You are in no position to set terms.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Five

    As the Queen rises from her seat, white-wood staff in hand, the strangeness of her silhouette is more apparent than ever. A dark silken headdress covers her head behind her mask, hanging at strange angles on the sides of her head as if resting atop a crown. The dark brown cloth swaddling her body shifts and spreads outwards as she stands, following a long, low curve jutting out from her waist, almost like it¡¯s resting upon¡­ wings.

    As she rises, so do the three figures seated either side of her. The antler-bearing one is the tallest, almost as tall as Rob when standing on the podium. The bull-masked one is shorter, but far more well-built, and the bear-masked one is the shortest, but nearly as stocky and wide as they are tall.

    ¡°I assume this wasn¡¯t part of the plan, Chief.¡± Rann grunts, trying to move his leg out from the ice encasing his knee.

    ¡°I know your plans.¡± The Queen speaks, stepping forward to the edge of her plinth. ¡°You come as friends, offering supplies and shelter in exchange for little more than our help. You are far wealthier than us, better armed, better armoured, led by a mage of some skill, and you offer your wealth to us with open arms and nothing but goodness in your hearts. A sweet promise, one too sweet to be true. I know your tricks. Your weapons may have been confiscated, but one of your number has weapons on their body impossible to be parted with. You come as peace envoys, with your biggest, toughest men to protect you¡­ or strong-arm me.¡±

    The doors slam shut behind us as the four guards from earlier move to stand in front of it, trapping us between them, the Queen, and her Red Wolves.

    ¡°My children are honest. They told me everything about you. The man-hunt for Crow, people calling for his head as they turned your village upside-down like a mob trying to find him. That the children of Haven felt it was in Crow¡¯s interest to keep him secret rather than turn him over to you. That betrays a strong sense of fear and distrust your children have in you, Chief of Haven. You came here to threaten us, just as you threaten your own children. You speak with pride, but Crow fears you. Had his experience in Haven gone differently, there may have been no need for this situation. Mole spoke of your sincerity to help us, and I believe in his judgement. But, Chief of Haven¡­¡± The Queen leans forward, holding her staff behind her back, speaking with an audible smirk. ¡°Your attempt at forceful diplomacy has failed quite miserably.¡±

    ¡°You must be Rann.¡± The bull-masked one speaks, their voice deep and masculine. ¡°Crow spoke of one wearing a Red Wolf¡¯s pelt. Haven¡¯s mightiest warrior. What business would a warrior have here?¡±

    ¡°Leading my expeditionary team, and protecting the Chief. She insisted on this outing, so here I am along for the ride.¡± Rann shrugs, apparently making himself comfortable after failing to get his legs free from the ice.

    ¡°You show no fear¡­ Brave, or foolish.¡± The bear-masked one comments. Their gender is hard to tell from their voice alone, compared to the bull-masked one, as their tone of voice is flat and androgynous.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see what you two are alluding to. This is the Abyss. Why wouldn¡¯t Haven¡¯s Chief be accompanied by a heavily armed escort?¡± Griffin pipes up, leaning against the wall near the door.

    A dissenting voice in the room causes a brief silence amongst the Queen and her Red Wolves. Griffin has a point; to the contrary of the narrative being built. With a tilt of the Queen¡¯s head, her mask¡¯s eyes stare straight at Griffin and silences him too, before returning to look down upon the Chief.

    ¡°Relationships are built upon trust, Chief of Haven.¡± The Queen continues, standing back up straight and gesturing with her free hand. ¡°Had you released Crow to come back on his own, the trust you put in him would reflect positively upon you. Instead, you tormented and tortured him into showing the way here. I have no trust in those who harm children.¡± She scolds.

    ¡°But, I am nothing if not generous. I am willing to put this behind us, for the sake of our future relationship and for the sake of the children in our care¡­ after you gesticulate and show proper respect to royalty, Chief of Haven!¡± The Queen points at the Chief with an outstretched finger, demanding her respect.

    ¡°Gesticulate¡­¡± The Chief laughs under her breath.

    ¡°What was that?¡± The Queen raises her voice, tilting her head down so her mask scowls at the Chief.

    ¡°You know, I was willing to play along with all this.¡± The Chief¡¯s head is still bowed, looking at the ice around her feet. ¡°Laying down our weapons, showing respect before you, even calling you ¡°Your Majesty¡± if it meant we could work out a favourable deal. Your imitation of royal protocol was charming at first, but I have already spent one lifetime being lectured by air-headed noblewomen who love nothing in the world more than the sound of their own voice, and I am not suffering another.¡±

    ¡°Imitation of¡­¡± The Queen tails off, almost lost for words in the face of the Chief¡¯s heel-turn.

    ¡°But!¡± The Chief raises her head, staring directly up at the queen. ¡°I am nothing if not generous. I would be willing to put all of this behind us¡­ had you not disrespected a Sage of the Order of the Golden Light with your parlour-trick magic performed by a mask-wearing charlatan!¡±

    The ice gripping our legs suddenly melts and vanishes into the stones, as the Chief¡¯s staff flashes into existence with a golden glow, taking it in hand and thrusting it forward. A dozen gold chains suddenly rush out from nothingness, constricting around every guard, Red Wolf, and the Queen itself, forcing the weapons from their hands and pinning them in place.

    ¡°W-what?! Her staff! Why didn¡¯t you take her staff?!¡± The Queen yelps, as golden chains snake around her legs and crawl up her body over her cloak.

    ¡°I-I thought she just¡­ I don¡¯t know! She magicked it away!¡± One of the guards yells in response, as we all stand up again.

    ¡°Relationships are built upon trust, Queen of the Wolf Pups¡­¡± The Chief muses, walking across the room towards the Queen. ¡°And hiding behind a mask is a poor manner of building trust, no?¡±

    The guards and the Red Wolves struggle helplessly as the chains only tighten around them more and more. I can sympathise with them a little, having been caught in the same situation more than once.

    ¡°Now.¡± The Chief smiles, standing right in front of the Queen, who drops her staff to the floor as the chains around her wrist grow too tight to keep holding on. ¡°Let¡¯s see each other eye to eye before continuing, mm?¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty! No!!¡± The bull-masked Red Wolf roars, nearly forcing his way out of his bondage before a glance from the Chief reinforces them twice-over. The rest of us move to secure the guards and Red Wolves¡¯ weapons, with Rann grabbing the bull-masked Red Wolf as I hold down the antler-wearing one.

    ¡°Sit. She¡¯s not going to hurt her.¡± Rann says, forcing the bull-masked Red Wolf to the ground.

    ¡°N-no! Don¡¯t take off my mask! No no no!¡± The Queen cries, shaking her head in a vain attempt to stop the Chief from grabbing her mask, which she does with no problem, lifting it off the Queen¡¯s head along with her silk headdress, revealing¡­

    ¡°... What?¡± The Chief blinks.

    The face hidden beneath the Queen¡¯s mask is¡­ unsurprising, at first. Apple-red hair just like Tiff¡¯s, with lustrous, deep green eyes, pale white skin, and the signature white pupils and slightly pointed ears of a Damned of the Abyss.

    With one exception.

    She has horns. White, solid horns extending forward from either side of her head above her ears, almost gleaming white like polished marble in the light, with thin, royal blue bands running along their length.

    Horns.

    ¡°But¡­ you can¡¯t be¡­¡± The Chief¡¯s confusion grows, as she flicks her staff upward.

    The golden chains surrounding the Queen fly upwards, taking the cloth covering her body with it, uncovering long, bat-like pearly white wings, with the skin stretching between each wings¡¯ finger a brilliant royal blue. Numerous jewels and platinum-gold rings adorn her wings, and a long platinum chain hangs from each of her wings, from wingtip to her waist where the wings connect to her body. Her clothes are made from exquisite blue silk embroidered with white and gold lacing, forming a simple but no doubt expensive dress covering her body, with black leather boots tied with white lace matching her plain white stockings.

    ¡°Are you¡­ an Azorii?!¡± The Chief recoils in surprise.

    An Azorii? The all-female race of horned, winged, tailed¡­ Well, I don¡¯t see a tail, but isn¡¯t this the native Underland race the mythical succubus is based on? Here? In the Abyss?

    ¡°Bwwaaaahhh!¡± The Queen suddenly bursts out crying, wrapping her arms around herself as she falls to the floor. The sultry, adult voice from before is long gone, shattered by the wailing cries of the Queen.

    ¡°Y-your Majesty?! Are you alright?¡± Crow yells, bursting into the room from a side door with Mole and Rabbit close behind them, seeing all the guards and the Red Wolves chained up, and their Queen on her knees, crying.

    ¡°Crow!!¡± The Queen wails, pointing at Crow. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me she was a Sage!! They didn¡¯t take her staff off her and she completely countered my spell like it was nothing!!¡±

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know what a Sage is, Your Majesty! I just told you she shook me around a bunch with her magic!¡± Crow blusters, unsure what to do in this situation.

    ¡°Oh dear, you¡¯ve got her crying again¡­¡± Griffin sighs, peering past the Chief at his sobbing Queen slumped on the floor. ¡°She could be at this for hours.¡±

    ¡°I did warn you that she was a skilled soulseer, Your Majesty, and that your mask wouldn¡¯t hide anything from her.¡± Mole says, getting a grip on the situation quickly.

    ¡°She saw right through me!! I didn¡¯t know she knew courtly etiquette better than I did!¡± The Queen whines, throwing a full-blown tantrum on the floor.

    ¡°Wait, wait, hold on¡­ So, the leader of the Wolf Pups is an Azorii? Someone native from this world, outside the Abyss? Here?¡± The Chief is trying to put everything together in her head. ¡°But how¡­¡±

    ¡°She fell from the sky. We found her and took her in.¡± The bear-masked one speaks, their voice calm and even, despite the chains constricting around their body like a snake.

    ¡°Fell from the sky? Was she flying across the Abyss?¡± Rann asks, staring at the brilliantly adorned wings of the Queen.

    ¡°Stupid dare¡­¡± The Queen sniffles, pouting as she wipes the tears on her cheeks. ¡°Lied about how big the Abyss was, saying they could fly across it in half an hour¡­ Got so tired I fell down and broke my wing¡­¡±

    ¡°So¡­ let me get this straight. How long ago did this happen?¡± The Chief asks, leaning on her staff.

    ¡°Three years ago we found her, cryin¡¯ alone in the woods. How she wasn¡¯t poisoned or eaten by the trees, I have no idea.¡± The antlered one suddenly speaks up, in a Newport accent shockingly similar to Johnny¡¯s.

    ¡°Ey! Is that a Newport accent I hear over there?¡± Johnny calls, holding one of the guards near the throne room¡¯s main doors.

    ¡°I sure ain¡¯t a south side mook like you, pal!¡± The antlered one yells back.

    ¡°South side mook?! Someone hold this kid so I can give that north side punk a proper Newport greetin¡¯!¡± Johnny yells back, immediately getting annoyed at this ¡®North side punk¡¯ with antlers.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve had your ¡®Queen¡¯ for three years now, playing this little royalty game with her to keep her happy. I assume she¡¯s your source of clean and purified water, and that¡¯s why you keep her around.¡± The Chief muses, putting things together in her head bit by bit.

    ¡°She¡¯s more to us than that!¡± The bull-masked one yells, still struggling beneath Rann¡¯s knee pressed on his back. ¡°She¡¯s true royalty! She taught us so much, she looks after our weak and our ill, and carves our masks! We chose her to lead us!!¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°True royalty, hmm¡­¡± The Chief kneels down, getting a closer look at the Queen¡¯s wings. ¡°Gemstones, silver, platinum¡­ and the size of those wings, their brilliant colours¡­ are you truly Azorian royalty?¡±

    ¡°I am Arezza Serenitas Apricitas Servikal, sixth daughter of the High Queen and Royal Princess of the Azorii Matarii, and you will treat me with the respect and admiration afforded to a royal!¡± The Queen growls, recoiling back from the Chief as she kneels in front of her.

    Her wings cross over her front to afford herself some protection, but this only shows that her right wing has a noticeable, nasty Z-shaped bend in it halfway along its length - a broken bone that didn¡¯t heal properly.

    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re still down here?¡± The Chief raises an eyebrow. ¡°Because you¡¯re only the sixth daughter?¡±

    The Queen falls silent, taking great offence to the Chief¡¯s words, but having no immediate retort of her own.

    ¡°... I fell into the Abyss. I¡¯m as good as dead.¡± She mumbles, looking down at her broken wing.

    ¡°I know full well what it¡¯s like being a spare.¡± The Chief stands, offering her hand to Arezza. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve come to some mutual understanding, let¡¯s restart this whole encounter, shall we?¡±

    With a stamp of her staff, the golden chains ensnaring the Queen, the Red Wolves, and the guards fall away into nothingness, as we all let go of whoever we¡¯re holding down and help them back up. Arezza refuses the Chief¡¯s hand, instead being helped up by the bull-masked and bear-masked Red Wolves either side of her, as the antlered one hands her back her white staff.

    ¡°Ahem.¡± Arezza clears her throat, straightening out her dress to make herself a little more presentable. ¡°Very well, Chief of Haven. You have an audience with Arezza Serenitas Apricitas Servikal, sixth daughter of the High Queen, Royal Princess of the Azorii Matarii, and the Wolf Queen of the Abyss. State your case.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± The Chief gives a half-curtsey, stepping down from the podium as we gather around her again. ¡°I am Mia Lichtrufer, Chief of Haven and representative of its people. To be straightforward, I seek an alliance between our factions for the betterment of us both.¡±

    ¡°What would such an alliance entail?¡± Arezza asks, adopting a more regal posture with her back straight and her wings low and outstretched, her voice shifting back to her regal, dulcet tone.

    The Chief also adjusts her posture slightly, looking Arezza straight in the eyes. ¡°Haven will open its gates to you. Any who wish to come will be welcomed with open arms, shelter, and food. Those too young to help will be looked after and attend school, and those old enough will assist with the running and expansion of Haven. Any children you rescue in the Abyss, will also be welcomed to Haven.¡±

    Arezza ponders the Chief¡¯s words for a long moment. She glances at each of her Red Wolves, then finally across at Crow, Rabbit, and Mole on the side of the room.

    ¡°What are the goals of this alliance?¡± She asks, her gaze returning to meet the Chief¡¯s.

    ¡°To protect the children of the Abyss.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°And?¡± Arezza pushes.

    ¡°To escape the Abyss.¡± is the Chief¡¯s firm reply.

    ¡°You¡­ have a plan to escape from this place?¡± Arezza is taken aback, but no less curious over what ideas the Chief may have.

    ¡°That¡¯s the end goal, yes. One of the most important things I need is someone that can fly. Your wing may be broken, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily derail my plans.¡± The Chief smiles, gesturing to me. ¡°Marina, if you would.¡±

    By this point, I don¡¯t even have to think about making my wings reveal themselves; hearing the invitation is all they need. With a flourish, both wings race out from under the cloak, stretching out and up to show themselves off in all their glory, mildly to moderately startling everyone in the room who haven¡¯t grown used to such a show.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the one Crow was talking about¡­¡± Arezza looks me up and down in surprise. Her green eyes shine like emeralds beneath her long, dark eyelashes as she stands in the light, taking a step forward to get a better look at me. It¡¯s suddenly difficult to keep eye contact with her as she comes closer. She¡¯s pretty. Of course she¡¯s pretty, she¡¯s a princess. A queen. She¡¯s beautiful, even, and I feel more flustered the closer she gets.

    ¡°This is Marina Retali of Haven. Have you read anything about the Curses and Gifts of the Damned?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°I saw a book about it once, but¡­¡± Arezza hops down from her podium, landing in front of me. The top of her head only comes up to my nose, as she gazes up at my wings. ¡°Feathered wings¡­ I¡¯ve never seen them on a person, too. They look so soft¡­¡±

    She reaches out, gently stroking my left wing with her fingertips. I almost forget to warn her that they don¡¯t like being touched without permission, but instead, my wings relax down to a more comfortable resting position, making it easier for Arezza to stroke them, sending strange tingles up my spine.

    ¡°They are soft¡­ Crow! You didn¡¯t tell me how soft they were! All of you, come feel them!¡± Arezza smiles, tracing her fingers down the long, sleek primary feathers. Her regal voice is slipping again.

    Griffin sighs, obliging his Queen¡¯s wishes and half-heartedly starts patting the upper edge of my wing. Rabbit, meanwhile, seizes the opportunity to run across the room and start touching my wings again, giggling at how soft they are. Mole joins in, curious about what the fuss is with the wings everyone keeps talking about. Even Arshiya, for some reason, joins in on the wing petting. I guess the option was on the table so she took it too.

    ¡°Heh.¡± Johnny chuckles. ¡°You¡¯d have been a big hit at the Newport pettin¡¯ zoo, Feathers. Kids can¡¯t get enough of them wings.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Johnny.¡± My wings sure enjoy the attention, even if I just can¡¯t get used to being touched on limbs I¡¯m not used to having.

    Speaking of, you¡¯re rather docile today, wings. Or are you on your best behaviour because there¡¯s another pair of wings in the room? You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a crush on them, would you~? Ow! Don¡¯t jab my neck like that, that hurts!

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t tamed your wings, Marina?¡± The Chief asks, putting her hands on her hips.

    ¡°Tamed?¡± Arezza tilts her head sideways.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose your wings have a mind of their own.¡± At least, I hope not. Are sentient wings normal down here?

    ¡°No. They¡¯re just part of me. What do you mean by ¡°mind of their¡±... Ah.¡± Arezza trails off, as my left wing has reached out with its outermost feather to poke lightly at the upper edge of Arezza¡¯s wing. ¡°You¡¯re not doing that yourself?¡±

    ¡°No, sorry, they just¡­ They like to touch things that they shouldn¡¯t.¡± I hiss, pulling my wing back away from Arezza.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Let me guess. You, Marina Retali, possess wings, but you do not know how to fly.¡± Arezza smiles, knowing she¡¯s right.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have wings in my previous¡­ life. I woke up here in the Abyss with them, with no tail or anything to go with them. Even my wings don¡¯t know how to fly.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I thought I read that Azorii have tails¡­¡± The Chief muses, peering at Arezza¡¯s back and the lack of any noticeable tail.

    ¡°A-an Azorii¡¯s tail is their own private business!!¡± Arezza backs up, putting her arms behind her to cover the small of her back.

    ¡°And you¡¯re shy about it, too¡­ Just like the book said.¡± The Chief smiles. Her genuine smiles are so warm and reassuring; made all the sweeter by their infrequency. ¡°You really are from outside the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°I thought we¡¯d already established that.¡± Arezza pouts, still protecting the small of her back even though you can¡¯t see anything there besides her wings. Do they hide their tails under their clothes?

    Rann smiles, patting the Chief on the shoulder. ¡°Another step closer, hmm?¡±

    ¡°Well, she hasn¡¯t agreed to my terms yet.¡± The Chief sighs, crossing her arms.

    ¡°I was thinking about them, before all¡­ before that happened.¡± Arezza waves towards me, turning her attention back to the Chief. ¡°How do you envisage this alliance working out, Chief of Haven?¡±

    ¡°You sound like you have an idea yourself, so I¡¯ll hear your thoughts on it.¡± The Chief responds.

    ¡°We have outposts all around the centre of the Abyss, what you call Dead Man¡¯s Dream, where everyone wakes up when they end up here. Scouts keep an eye out for lost children, and watch the movements of other groups. Any rescued children are brought back, outpost to outpost, until they make it here to the Capital, where they¡¯re kept safe. Once they¡¯re ready and able to, and when the way is clear, they can make the journey to their final, safest stop; Haven.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re on the same page, your Majesty.¡± The Chief smiles.

    ¡°I have one caveat, though.¡± Arezza starts, and the Chief nods for her to continue. ¡°I wish to see Haven for myself.¡±

    ¡°You want to leave the Capital, your Majesty?!¡± The bull-masked one sputters. ¡°Go with these strangers to their hidden lair across the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°Griffin will be with me, Bull. Mole says they¡¯re trustworthy and sincere, and I trust Mole¡¯s judgement.¡± Arezza smiles, before realising something. ¡°Ah! I haven¡¯t introduced the Red Wolves!¡±

    ¡°Griffin, Bull, Bear, and Jackhorn, I assume.¡± The Chief says, glancing at each respective Red Wolf, whose names match their masks. ¡°Rabbit explained why everyone has animal names. I have to ask, though, why do you favour wolves above all else?¡±

    ¡°Wolf was our leader.¡± Bear speaks. ¡°He led Griffin, Jackhorn, Bull, and I to rescue and protect as many children as we could find. He founded the Capital, and it was he, along with Jackhorn and I that found her Majesty and brought her back here.¡±

    ¡°Your use of past tense concerns me.¡± The Chief frowns.

    ¡°He ain¡¯t dead, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re thinkin¡¯.¡± Jackhorn pipes up, crossing his arms. ¡°Shortly after we rescued the Queen, he left the leadership of the group to us, and set out on his own to find a way out of the Abyss. There has to be a way out of here, he said, and nothin¡¯ we could say could change his mind.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been three years, Jackhorn¡­¡± Arezza sighs softly, looking down. ¡°Though I hope for his return every day, I¡¯ve prepared myself for the bad news. I never even had the opportunity to thank him for rescuing me¡­ I don¡¯t even recall what he looks like.¡±

    ¡°Her Majesty earned her place amongst us almost overnight. The old well that we had dug in the town square - she purified the groundwater, turning it into an ever-flowing marble fountain of clean drinking water. She looked after the children that were ill, nursing them back to health. She gave us our names, carved all our masks herself. We do not call her our Queen due to her blood; we call her our Queen because we choose to.¡± Bear gives a slight nod of pride towards Arezza as they finish.

    ¡°While her flash-freezing trick was juvenile, to put it charitably, purifying a well to that level is worthy of praise. The marble finish is a nice touch.¡± The Chief nods as well.

    ¡°If I so wanted, I could have washed all of you back to the surface!¡± Arezza retorts, gripping her staff.

    ¡°If I so wanted, I could blow a hole straight to the surface from right where I stand!¡± The Chief shoots back, gripping her staff in turn.

    ¡°You two can have a magical artillery match later if you want.¡± Rann sighs, stepping between the two. ¡°Is there any chance we could rest here for the night? We haven¡¯t had a proper rest since last night.¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± Arezza smiles confidently. ¡°We have a side room the men can use, and there¡¯s a few spare bedrooms that I can lend to the ladies for the night adjacent to my personal chambers~¡±

    ¡°My sister gets her own room while I¡¯m bunking with all the guys¡­?¡± Arshak grumbles to himself.

    ¡°Perks of being a lady.¡± Arshiya grins at her forlorn sibling.

    ¡°When shall we make the return trip to Haven?¡± The Chief asks Rann and Arezza.

    ¡°I¡¯d need a day to gather my things, make the announcements to the children, and get everything ready to run smoothly in my absence. How long would it take to reach Haven from here?¡± Arezza asks Rann, taking a step back to look up at him given the height difference between the two. Arezza isn¡¯t short, but¡­ she is compared to Rann.

    ¡°It took us all day to reach here, including a stop at one of your outposts. Crow showed us the tunnels you use. Following the same route back, going south around the Ghostwood¡­ as long as we leave before daybreak, we¡¯ll be back by sundown.¡± Rann ponders, charting a path through the Abyss back home.

    ¡°South around the Ghostwood? Past the blood stream on its western edge?¡± Jackhorn asks, trying to draw a mental map himself.

    ¡°Across the Seeping Wound, past the fire pits, keep going west. When you think you¡¯ve gone fast west enough, keep going. If you reach the mud pines, you¡¯ve gone too far south.¡± Rann nods at Jackhorn. ¡°Keep that to yourself, kid. Else I¡¯ll have to deal with you.¡±

    ¡°Past the fire pits, keep goin¡¯... I¡¯ve been there before. Spent a whole day walkin¡¯. Ain¡¯t nothin¡¯ but trees out that way¡­¡± Jackhorn brings his hand to the chin on his mask, putting two and two together.

    ¡°It¡¯s that whole lot of nothing but trees that keeps Haven hidden. Far away from anything else interesting.¡± Rann grins dryly.

    ¡°You must all be famished and exhausted after your long journey! It¡¯s on short notice, but I¡¯m sure we could arrange at the very least a modest feast to greet our new friends properly¡­¡± Arezza muses, planning the evening¡¯s events.

    ¡°Just a quiet place to put our heads down for some sleep will suffice for tonight. We had plenty to eat on the way here.¡± Rann says.

    ¡°Ah, alright then. Jackhorn, Bull, if you could show our guests to their rooms? Bear, Griffin, tell everyone who¡¯s still awake what¡¯s happening in regards to our visitors, and not to worry about a thing. And you three¡­¡± Arezza turned to Mole, Crow, and Rabbit, who were standing beside the podium while Arezza spoke. ¡°You three did wonderfully today. Go get something to eat and some rest, okay? Tomorrow¡¯s going to be a big day.¡±

    The three children all nod, as everyone splits off to follow the orders given them. Jackhorn, Bull, and the guards escort the men to their chambers, until the only ones left in the throne room are Arezza, the Chief, Arshiya, and myself.

    ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll follow me, Mia Lichtrufer, Marina Retali, and¡­¡± Arezza trails off, realising she doesn¡¯t know Arshiya¡¯s name.

    ¡°Arshiya.¡± She smiles.

    ¡°You¡¯re from Haven, too. Why did you join in when we were all feeling Marina¡¯s wings?¡± Arezza asks, a little puzzled.

    ¡°Because they¡¯re soft, and everyone else was doing it.¡± Arshiya nods, still smiling.

    ¡°They are wonderfully soft.¡± Arezza nods in agreement. ¡°Come, you three! We have a lot to talk about, and the night is still young!¡±

    Arezza leads us through a doorway on the left side of her throne room, eagerly intent on chatting the night away with her new friends.

    We all had our worries, but after some initial difficulties, it looks like the future of Haven and the Wolf Pups is a bright one of cooperation and shared prosperity. She probably hasn¡¯t noticed, but the Chief has been smiling to herself during most of our time here. She¡¯s quick to manage her expression when someone talks to her, but that small, hopeful smile always comes back shortly afterwards.

    We¡¯ve taken another step forward on the long, dangerous road out of the Abyss. There will be many trials and tribulations to come, but we won¡¯t be facing them alone. The Chief admits it¡¯s unlikely that everyone in the Abyss will want to work together; some will even fight us over it. But the more that join us, the stronger we¡¯ll be.

    I just hope we¡¯ll be strong enough.

 Chapter Twenty-Six

    ¡°Marina.¡± The Chief smiles, taking a long sip from her porcelain teacup.

    ¡°Yes, Chief?¡± I half-heartedly look up as I laze across this sinfully comfortable chaise lounge, channelling the exhaustion of a young noblewoman on the night after her debutante ball, my wings draped over the back of the sofa.

    ¡°Sit properly. There¡¯s plenty of seats, Arshiya, so you don¡¯t need to be on the floor, either.¡± She ¡®smiles¡¯, shooting a look at Arshiya, who¡¯s laying flat on her stomach across the countless, luxuriously soft fur rugs covering the smooth wooden floor.

    ¡°Oh, let her be.¡± Arezza laughs, tickling my ears and sending a wave of happiness through my body, shrugging off the Chief¡¯s complaint about Arshiya¡¯s etiquette. ¡°These are my personal chambers, and you are my guests. You are more than welcome to enjoy the decor however you please.¡±

    Arezza¡¯s personal chambers.

    I never had the opportunity to visit a royal¡¯s personal chambers, but I had visited a few palaces in my time. After all, the Retali family were the greatest luthiers in the Sovrana Republic; our violins, cellos, and violas were played in palaces and opera houses in the capital of the Giornovan Empire in the west, to the grand theatres of the Empire of Song in the east. We weren¡¯t nobility per say, but our name was known in every noble household of note. Occasionally, us three daughters of the Retali family would put on our best dresses and join our father on journeys into the city to present our latest work to its buyer. Father was protective of us three, and made sure no no-good noble son got their hands on any of us, but he was just as eager to show off how beautiful, smart, and talented his daughters were.

    As such, I¡¯m not unfamiliar with the parlour rooms and foyers of countryside estates and city townhouses. These were always forward-facing rooms, though, where elegance and opulence is key to reinforce one¡¯s social standing among high society. Our setting for tonight¡¯s evening is a private room, however, one intended for gatherings of close friends where gossip and rumours are traded over tea and scones. The decor of this room¡¯s focus is not elegance, but absolute, luxurious comfort.

    Fur throw rugs, some white, some black, red, orange, even blue, covering every inch of the floor. Silk curtains of brilliant hues hang between every marble pillar lining the walls of white stone bricks, framing the green and gold doorways on either side of the room. Crystal chandeliers cast near-daylight across the room, in stark contrast to the dry dirt roof; the only reminder that we¡¯re supposedly still in a cave. The Chief, Arezza, and I lounge back on deluxe lounges, sofas, and lounge chairs, sipping from porcelain teacups, while Arshiya has made herself quite comfortable on the floor. I¡¯d join her, but this chaise lounge already has its clutches on me.

    There is, of course, a question in my head. The elephant in the room.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have plenty of questions for us, Arezza, but if you¡¯d be so kind as to allow us to field the first question here.¡± The Chief says, taking another sip of tea.

    ¡°Certainly.¡± Arezza smiles.

    Arezza¡¯s lounge chair, matching the one the Chief is sitting in, is clearly designed with an Azorii in mind. The low arms of the chair are the perfect height for Arezza to rest her wings across them, her wingtips reaching down to just above the floor. The dark blue cushioning only further emphasises her pearly-white wings and their royal blue membranes stretching between each delicate finger, adorned with white gold rings, gemstones of emerald and ruby framed with silver, and the long, platinum chain hanging from each wingtip to the small of her back.

    The Chief takes a long look across the room, making a point of scanning across every surface and piece of decor, before settling her gaze upon Arezza.

    ¡°Explain.¡± She speaks, furrowing her brow.

    ¡°What is there to explain? I¡¯ve simply made myself comfortable here.¡± Arezza shrugs lightly, laying back in her chair as she takes a sip from her teacup.

    ¡°We¡¯re in a cave in the middle of the Abyss, and I sincerely doubt all this furniture has always been here, let alone the brickwork or the marble columns.¡± She pushes, needing to get the bottom of this to sate her curiosity.

    ¡°Oh, all this. I just summoned it from home. It reminds them that I¡¯m still alive down here.¡± Arezza smiles casually, as if this is just a normal, everyday thing. ¡°You said you were a Sage, didn¡¯t you? Is the idea of me summoning objects that outlandish?¡±

    ¡°The only magic I have witnessed you perform is water purification and basic metaphysical manipulation of water. Summoning objects is an entirely different school altogether!¡± The Chief stresses, resting her hand on the golden pendant around her neck. I realise now she never once hid that pendant on her, an elaborately detailed golden sigil showing her status as a Sage. Arezza just didn¡¯t recognise it, if she even noticed it.

    ¡°Maybe, in the strange systems those from the ¡®Overlands¡¯ use. Summoning and water purification are but two of the many spells I wield with ease~¡± Arezza puffs her chest out, obviously stroking her own ego.

    ¡°Did it not cross your mind to summon something more useful than chaise lounges and throw rugs? Or maybe someone who could help get you out of here?¡± The Chief is obviously unimpressed.

    ¡°Summoning anything is a lengthy and strenuous procedure that requires intimate knowledge of the item to be summoned. Summoning a living being is entirely different from summoning my bed, or my favourite chair.¡± Arezza clarifies, pouting at the Chief.

    ¡°So for the three years you¡¯ve been here, you¡¯ve just been progressively summoning more and more of your residence here to make yourself more comfortable?¡± The Chief puts down her teacup on the small table beside her chair, crossing her arms.

    ¡°I must have emptied out half a dozen rooms by now. I¡¯ve practically ripped out the walls of half a dozen rooms! I know no one wants to fly into the Abyss, but surely they must have noticed that it¡¯s my things that keep disappearing from the palace. I¡¯m very clearly still alive down here, so what¡¯s taken them so long to do something about it?¡± Arezza huffs, crossing her arms as well.

    ¡°And why does no one want to fly into the Abyss? I know your wing is broken, but what¡¯s stopped others who can fly from coming down here?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s all sorts of silly rumours about giant birds with their entrails hanging out that live in the clouds smothering this place. It is a long way down, I know, but some people take these things too seriously.¡± Arezza sighs, confidently shrugging off such rumours.

    ¡°You mean the carrion hawks. Given their size, they could probably swallow someone like you in a single gulp.¡± The Chief nods.

    ¡°The car- the what? The carrion¡­ they¡¯re real?¡± Arezza¡¯s confidence falls apart.

    ¡°Yes. Ask Marina, she killed one a few moons ago. Just sadly, not before¡­ it killed one of ours.¡± The Chief sighs.

    That really was several months ago, now. The fine details have grown hazy, but the two moments that ring clear in my head¡­

    Seeing Nate die in seconds, and the feeling of the carrion hawk lifelessly dropping to the ground beneath me.

    The smell of it lingers in my mind too, but for some reason all I can think of is a distinct yet unfamiliar floral smell, like the scent of a rose I¡¯ve never smelt before¡­

    ¡°Really? You saw one? And killed it?¡± Arezza asks, right in my face-

    ¡°G-Gahh?!¡±

    I jerk back on the lounge, nearly knocking it over as I recoil from suddenly realising that Arezza¡¯s standing right in front of me. When the hell did she get so- Ah. The floral perfume. That¡¯s the scent coming off her.

    ¡°What¡¯re you so jumpy about? It¡¯s only me~¡± Arezza smiles. Ah, she¡¯s right, it is only her¡­ Her long, dark eyelashes, framing her eyes as green and brilliant as emeralds, the white, iridescent sheens of her horns¡­ It¡¯s only Arezza, in all her beauty.

    ¡°Those two may be blissfully unaware of what you¡¯re doing, Arezza, but I¡¯ve read enough to know just what someone like you is capable of.¡± The Chief¡¯s unimpressed voice pulls me back down to reality.

    ¡°Ehh? What do you mean, ¡®what I¡¯m doing¡¯?¡± Arezza turns to pout at the Chief.

    ¡°First off, give Marina some personal space. She gets flustered when people get close to her.¡± the Chief sighs.

    ¡°I-I do?¡± ¡­ Yeah, I do, I feel less flustered now that Arezza¡¯s gone back to her chair.

    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®first off¡¯?¡± Arezza frowns, sitting back down on her chair and crossing her arms. ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything else.¡±

    ¡°Secondly, what you¡¯ve been doing with your voice. It was obvious when it broke earlier after I grew tired of your little facade.¡± The Chief narrows her eyes.

    ¡°What do you mean, what I¡¯m doing with my voice? This is the natural cadence in which I speak.¡± Arezza brings her hand to her chest as she speaks in her natural, beautiful voice, to emphasise her shock at these frivolous accusations of¡­ wait. Frivolous? Why am I thinking this?

    ¡°Every time you open your mouth, those two glaze over pink and bloom like a field of peonies. Did you think that I wouldn¡¯t notice that?¡± The Chief lays out her accusation.

    ¡°... Hmpf. Soulseers are no fun.¡± Arezza huffs, crossing her arms. Her voice is now softer and more high-pitched; no less pleasant, but certainly not as persuasive as her voice was before.

    ¡°Your voice still sounds nice to listen to, Arezza.¡± Arshiya smiles, practically melting into the fur rugs.

    ¡°Thank you, Arshiya.¡± Arezza smiles. ¡°You can all call me Arza, too. All my friends call me Arza~¡±

    ¡°I imagine a royal princess would have no shortage of friends¡­ if you don¡¯t take into consideration how genuine those ¡®friends¡¯ are.¡± The Chief mutters, taking another long sip from her tea.

    ¡°No one¡¯s falling over themselves to secure positive relationships with merely¡­ well, with only the sixth daughter of the Royal Family. I hadn¡¯t had much of a chance to show my merits before I, uh¡­ ended up down here.¡± Arezza chuckles awkwardly, scratching her cheek with a finger.

    ¡°How old are you, if you don¡¯t mind me asking? I had read that Azorii have the same average lifespan as humans.¡± The Chief asks, adjusting her posture as she turns to Arezza.

    ¡°A normal Azorii has a similar lifespan, yes, but I am no ordinary Azorii.¡± Arezza smiles proudly, resting her hand on her chest. ¡°The Servikal are blessed with long life to oversee the prosperity of their people, and as such, many live past the age of two hundred years. My own mother, blessed be her reign, is only in her 160s, still as beautiful as the day she ascended to the throne nearly a century ago.¡±

    ¡°They made you rehearse that, didn¡¯t they.¡± The Chief comments.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Arezza falters. ¡°I-is it that obvious?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± The Chief chuckles. ¡°Just the little things you pick up on when you¡¯re raised in the ¡®upper class¡¯ of society.¡±

    The conversation briefly falls quiet, as the Chief silently scans up and down Arezza¡¯s form, and I¡¯m fairly certain Arshiya¡¯s fallen asleep on the floor. As the silence draws longer, Arezza begins to fidget in her chair, her cheeks starting to redden as the Chief looks upon her.

    ¡°... M-my, I know I¡¯m beautiful, but you don¡¯t have to stare so much, you know¡­¡± Arezza speaks up, twiddling her fingers nervously.

    ¡°Ah, sorry, it¡¯s only just settled in that I¡¯m talking to someone that¡­ that I¡¯d only read about in books. That I never¡­ that I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see soon.¡± The Chief blinks, realising she¡¯s been staring.

    ¡°So soon?¡± Arezza blinks, shifting forward in her chair. ¡°And¡­ books? You have books?¡±

    ¡°She lives above Haven¡¯s library. I live in a room beside the library.¡±

    ¡°Haven has a library?!¡± Arezza shifts in her chair towards me, her excitement quickly growing.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d have questioned everything Crow knew about Haven.¡± The Chief raises an eyebrow slightly.

    ¡°I did, and yes Mole was there and he confirmed everything and he mentioned a library, but you really have one? Full of books and scrolls and comfy chairs by the fireplace?¡± Arezza is sitting on the very edge of her chair by now, her wings lifted off the ground and fluttering slightly in excitement.

    ¡°Scrolls certainly wouldn¡¯t survive in an environment like the Abyss, but we have everything else you listed. Do you¡­ not have any books here? You summoned all this other furniture here but not any books?¡± The Chief looks around the room, at everything Arezza has summoned down here for her comfort, noting the complete lack of books anywhere to be seen.

    ¡°Oh, I would love to be able to do that! But nooo, all books in the Palace are to be kept in the Royal Library, which is warded against any and all ¡°unapproved magical intercessions¡± so I can¡¯t just summon whatever I want from there whenever I want.¡± Arezza huffs, slumping back in her chair with her arms crossed and pulling her best pout.

    ¡°Alright, returning to the questions I wished to ask earlier¡­¡± The Chief sighs, waiting for Arezza to calm down before continuing. ¡°There was one other thing I¡¯ve noticed since arriving here.¡±

    ¡°And that is?¡± Arezza asks, fixing her posture and leaning back in her chair.

    ¡°There clearly used to be adults here. More than you, anyway. Otherwise, why would everything be dug out and shaped with adults in mind. Yes, Rann and Rob had to stoop a bit here and there, but this certainly wasn¡¯t a space created by and for children alone.¡± The Chief asks her second question.

    ¡°Ah, that¡­ Yes, you¡¯re right, there were adults here. Before I was here. When I first woke up here, they, along with Wolf, were already gone. They had all left¡­ to keep all of us safe.¡± Arezza manages a small smile, but this is clearly a painful topic for her.

    ¡°Safe from the Bone Breakers, I assume.¡± The Chief comments.

    ¡°Yes. As I¡¯m sure you know, the Breakers ignore children in the Abyss. When I was brought here, the Breakers were much closer to the Hollows. If they found this place, they¡¯d ransack it, abduct all the adults, and leave the children to fend for themselves. When Wolf left in one direction, the other adults left in another, leading the Breakers away from here. It worked, and the Breakers haven¡¯t been near this area since. It¡¯s just, as time¡¯s gone on, I¡­ I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll ever see those adults again.¡± Arezza¡¯s shoulders slump forward, sighing to herself.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The Chief ponders, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°... What? Have I not convinced you? I¡¯m telling the truth.¡± Arezza says, sitting up as her pained expression turns to one of anger.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling the truth, Arezza, I can see that. What I also see is the guilt you feel about this subject.¡± The Chief clarifies.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Arezza sighs, slumping back down. ¡°Soulseers really are no fun¡­¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°I was eleven, when I awoke in the Abyss. I wandered around alone, for gods knows how many days, with nothing but a suitcase full of clothes that didn¡¯t fit me. I survived by eating whatever I could find that was edible. Roots, mostly, and I drank from the cleanest part of the rust-filled puddles I could find. I wasn¡¯t going to last much longer on my own, until Rann and Haven¡¯s expedition team found me. I was barely able to stand, but I certainly didn¡¯t want to be taken prisoner by a group of adults. At least, until I saw what they were carrying.¡± The Chief says.

    ¡°Piles of food?¡± Arezza asks.

    ¡°One of their own. He was severely injured and deathly pale, but they were doing their best to save him. I figured that if they were trying to save one of their own, they weren¡¯t your average band of brigands looking for people to rob and children to abduct. So, I let them take me with them. I passed out pretty soon after, and when I woke up, I was in Haven. The injured man they were carrying was dead.¡± The Chief sighs, looking down at her now-empty teacup. ¡°After some time, Rann told me that it was the injured man who noticed I was in the area, and told them to find me. If they¡¯d gone straight back to Haven, he might have survived. But their first priority was rescuing me.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t always get to make the decisions about ourselves, do we?¡± Arezza sighs with a small smile.

    ¡°No, no we don¡¯t. Neither when we¡¯re children, nor when we¡¯re adults. It¡¯s just learning if those who make decisions for you have your best interests in mind or not.¡± The Chief nods.

    ¡°Eleven years old, to be lost in the Abyss¡­ how many years have you been in Haven?¡± She asks.

    ¡°This is my twelfth year in Haven, and my third year as its Chief. Assuming years, moons, and days do line up in the Underlands as it does in the Overlands, then I¡¯m twenty-two¡­ to be twenty-three in another two moons, if I recall correctly.¡± The Chief answers, making sure she¡¯s getting her own age right.

    ¡°Oh! So you¡¯re the same age as me!¡± Arezza nods.

    ¡°We are? I thought you said your mother was 160 years old?¡± The Chief frowns.

    ¡°Just because my dear mother is 160 doesn¡¯t mean I am anywhere near her age! My eldest sister is 87, and I have two younger sisters as well. Well¡­ it might be more now, I¡¯m not exactly in the loop on what¡¯s happening with anything outside the Abyss anymore, aha¡­¡± Arezza chuckles awkwardly.

    ¡°So your mother had you when she was¡­ and she¡¯s still had more since¡­ I see. The book on Azorii didn¡¯t mention anything about the upper age limit for an Azorii¡¯s sexual maturity, but it¡¯s certainly higher than that of an ordinary human female. I should add a note of that in that book when I return to Haven¡­¡± The Chief ponders, getting buried in her own thoughts as she puzzles out the reproductive capabilities of an Azorii.

    ¡°A-are you that curious about how Azorii reproduce¡­?¡± Arezza asks, a little concerned at just how interested the Chief is.

    ¡°That book calls itself The Complete Story of the Azorii and it¡¯s clearly lacking important information to make it complete! The minute I get the chance, I¡¯m lodging a complaint with the author of that book about the missing information.¡± The Chief huffs annoyedly, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Well, that particular book has been out of print for over a century. It wasn¡¯t even written by an Azorii, which caused quite the controversy when it was discovered. There¡¯s a revised version telling the actual complete story these days, called The Complete Story of the Azorii, by the Azorii.¡± Arezza says, clearing the air. ¡°Apparently it got most of the cultural and biological things right, it¡¯s just the way they told history that was controversial.¡±

    ¡°The history involving the all-male Mazorii?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°... Let¡¯s not talk about them. I¡¯ve been wondering something else, actually. Marina!¡± Arezza turns to me, smiling. ¡°How old are you? You look a little older than your Chief.¡±

    ¡°Fifteen.¡± I smile as smugly as humanly possible.

    ¡°Oh, be honest! The Chief and I are being¡­ serious¡­¡± Arezza looks back at the Chief, who¡¯s making no notion of correcting my statement.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡± Arezza looks back and forth between the Chief and I. ¡°She¡¯s fifteen. Really. Only fifteen?¡±

    ¡°Are you familiar with The History of the Damned: Their Afflictions, Curses, and Gifts?¡± The Chief says.

    ¡°I¡¯ve skimmed through that before, and I assume that¡¯s why she has feathered wings, but is that also why she¡¯s¡­ like that, like¡­ all grown up and adult-looking even though she¡¯s¡­ fifteen¡­¡± Arezza frowns, trying to wrap her head around this.

    ¡°I¡¯ve also been here for less than a year.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s only been children awaking in the Abyss for years¡­!¡± Arezza protests, her understanding of how things work falling apart before her eyes.

    ¡°For the past twenty years, yes. That included me. Anyone under sixteen is considered a child in the Overlands. She doesn¡¯t break the ¡®rules¡¯ of this place.¡± The Chief comments.

    ¡°Just as I thought I was starting to understand how things work here¡­¡± Arezza sighs, slumping back in her chair dejectedly.

    ¡°The Abyss is never lacking in surprises.¡± The Chief says.

    ¡°Did you have any other questions¡­?¡± Arezza asks, still looking down at her lap.

    ¡°Can you teach Marina how to fly?¡± She answers with a question of her own.

    Arezza blinks, sitting up and looking over at me, her eyes tracing along my wings to get a measure of their size.

    ¡°Have you flown at all before, Marina?¡± Arezza asks.

    ¡°If you consider jumping extra high ¡®flying¡¯, then yes. I can stay off the ground for a few seconds at most, but keeping my balance in the air is¡­ difficult, to say the least.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Arezza stands up, walking over behind my lounge to get a better look at my wings. ¡°So, they are big enough to get you off the ground, but being in the thoracic region and having no tail, balance would be an issue¡­ assuming these generate the same lift as non-feathered wings¡­ Ah.¡±

    Arezza pauses, holding my cloak with one hand, pushing her other into the enchanted space contained within it.

    ¡°This is a cloak made for Azorii. How did you get this?¡± She asks.

    ¡°An old man gave it to me shortly after I woke up here.¡±

    ¡°An old¡­¡± Arezza looks back at the Chief for confirmation again; who just shrugs half-heartedly in response. ¡°You¡¯re full of surprises, aren¡¯t you, Marina.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not intentional, I promise.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Well, I see no reason why I couldn¡¯t teach Marina to fly~¡± Arezza smiles, nodding to herself. ¡°What¡¯s the end goal of teaching her to fly?¡±

    ¡°So that she may fly to the top of the cliffs directly above Haven, and hopefully find the crane that helped build Haven still intact. I don¡¯t expect it to be in fully working order, but if it¡¯s there, that means it can be repaired.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t¡­ find someone and ask for help?¡± Arezza asks, frowning a little.

    ¡°I¡¯m operating under the assumption that there are no settlements in the immediate vicinity of the Abyss. I¡¯m also aware that Damned from the Abyss are a very rare sight, and I don¡¯t want to risk Marina being captured.¡± The Chief continues.

    ¡°And what if this crane isn¡¯t there at all?¡± Arezza pushes.

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to come up with a new plan.¡± She sighs.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t the Red Wolves say that Wolf left to find the path out of the Abyss¡­?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m reluctant to accept the idea that a path out of the Abyss exists, but people have escaped from here before. They must have gotten out somehow.¡± The Chief admits, resting her cheek on her hand.

    ¡°Do you¡­ really believe you can make it out of the Abyss?¡± Arezza asks, shuffling forward in her chair again.

    The Chief remains silent for a moment, thinking about how she¡¯ll answer. The Chief, myself, and almost everyone else in the Abyss; we were all ¡®born¡¯ here. Reborn here. However you want to word it. The Abyss is the only thing in this world we know after being ripped away from the world we knew, and we all universally agree that this place sucks and we want to get out of here. Arezza, however, has only ever lived in this world. She didn¡¯t awaken in a cave full of skulls with the smell of sulphur in the air. She was born in a palace. She¡¯s royalty, but unfortunately, she¡¯s found herself trapped in a place so dangerous that no-one, to her knowledge, has tried to rescue her in the three years she¡¯s been down here.

    I can¡¯t help but wince in sympathy every time I look at her broken wing. Wings aren¡¯t a limb I¡¯m used to seeing, but hers is obviously, painfully broken. No limb is supposed to bend in a Z-like shape. Her wingtips move freely, but she¡¯s very, very careful with how she moves her wings, always keeping them low to her side, or resting on the arms of her chair. I¡¯m no doctor, nor am I a mage specialising in healing, and I¡¯m very much a novice when it comes to having wings, but¡­ unless there¡¯s some truly exceptional healing magic in this world, she¡¯ll never fly under her own strength again.

    ¡°I certainly don¡¯t intend to spend the rest of my life down here.¡± The Chief finally speaks. ¡°One way or another, we¡¯re escaping the Abyss. All of us.¡±

    ¡°All of us? Even people that aren¡¯t part of Haven or my Wolf Pups?¡± Arezza asks.

    ¡°Everyone who wants to, and I can¡¯t imagine why anyone would want to stay here. This place was designed to make people suffer, and I can imagine no greater joy than denying its ability to inflict suffering on the innocent.¡± The Chief smiles dryly to herself. Nothing would make her happier than getting revenge on the Abyss itself.

    ¡°Do you¡­¡± Arezza hesitates, before continuing in a softer voice. ¡°Do you think the Abyss is¡­ alive¡­?¡±

    ¡°Not in the traditional sense, but there is certainly a malign intellect at work here. Such a hostile environment doesn¡¯t occur naturally. This is a Sump, after all, and if you¡¯re familiar with the theories that the Sumps are the physical remains of the dead gods, we¡¯re sitting on the corpse of the God of War. From what I¡¯ve read of his teachings, he¡¯d certainly approve of the nature of this place.¡± The Chief explains her point.

    ¡°The remains of the War-Invader¡­¡± Arezza mumbles to herself.

    ¡°Regardless of the circumstances, Marina is instrumental in my plans on escaping this place. Just as instrumental as an alliance between our factions.¡± The Chief gets back on topic.

    ¡°You¡¯re certainly not lacking in confidence, Mia Lichtrufer.¡± Arezza smiles.

    ¡°Naturally. A leader must be confident in themselves if they are to inspire confidence in others.¡± The Chief preens.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to rub that in, you know.¡± Arezza narrows her eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s getting late, and we¡¯ve had a long day.¡± The Chief yawns, standing up from her chair. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, Arezza, I¡¯ll go check on the men to make sure they¡¯ve settled in and aren¡¯t causing problems before I retire to my room for the night.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead~¡± Arezza smiles, waving her off. ¡°Marina and I still have plenty to talk about.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± The Chief says, going to take her leave from the room before stopping and taking a step back after she steps on something that makes a strange squeak.

    ¡°Ow¡­¡± Arshiya groans, waking from her otherwise peaceful sleep.

    ¡°Ah¡­ If you¡¯re going to sleep, Arshiya, at least sleep in the bed your host has so graciously provided you.¡± The Chief scolds, playing it off like stepping on Arshiya was somehow an intentional disciplinary action and not a mistake.

    Arshiya mumbles something, slowly getting up from the floor and wandering over to her room for the night, disappearing through the doorway as the Chief leaves through the throne room. Now, it¡¯s just Arezza and I in the room, who¡¯s made herself quite comfortable next to me.

    Next to¡­

    ¡°Hi, Marina~¡± Arezza smiles.

    ¡°H-Hi, Arezza¡­¡± I manage a smile, trying not to look too shocked at how she¡¯s caught me off-guard again. She keeps doing this. Do you just not pay attention to her, wings? You just let her get as close as she wants without telling me.

    ¡°Call me Arza.¡± She pouts.

    ¡°Right. Arza.¡±

    ¡°Sorry if I snuck up on you, I just¡­¡± She sighs, trailing off as her pout fades into a sullen, withdrawn frown, shuffling a little closer to me as she rests her azure wings in her lap.

    The amount of jewellery adorning her wings probably costs more than my entire house, back in the Overlands. The pair of large, golden hoops hanging from each wingtip, the left adorned with rubies to match her hair, the right with emeralds that match her eyes, and the slender platinum chain that hangs from each hoop, connected near the base of her wings by more golden rings. The pearly-white, almost iridescent upper part of her wings are adorned with smaller platinum rings, studs, and star-shaped jewellery, all showing off her immense wealth.

    Wing piercings aren''t something I¡¯d ever thought of before, assuming they function like ear or nose piercings. How sensitive are her wings to being touched? What do they feel like?

    ¡°Do you want to touch them?¡± She asks with a small smile, noticing that I¡¯m staring.

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m a little curious¡­¡±

    ¡°Go ahead. It¡¯s only fair, given I¡¯ve already run my hands all over those luxuriously soft feathers on your back~¡± She sits up again, raising her wings a little to make them easier to touch.

    Wow. They looked smooth, but to actually touch them¡­ they¡¯re as soft as silk, and almost amazingly smooth to the touch. I thought it¡¯d have the texture of rough leather, or something similar. I almost feel like I¡¯m getting them dirty just by touching them, they look that clean¡­

    ¡°I was a little worried how Mia would take me asking her if she thinks the Abyss is¡­ alive. It sounds like such a nonsensical idea.¡± Arezza continues, her posture slightly slumped as she leans towards me, just shy of our shoulders touching. I let go of her wing to listen.

    ¡°With everything I¡¯ve seen in my time down here¡­ I¡¯d believe it. The gods shaped our world, so the idea that their remains shape this world isn¡¯t that far-fetched.¡±

    ¡°Do you hear it¡­?¡± She asks quietly, resting her hand on mine.

    ¡°Hear it¡­?¡±

    Hear what? There¡¯s nothing besides¡­ Oh. That.

    The constant, distant thudding that I feel in my chest, almost drowning out my own heartbeat. The same thudding I heard in the tunnels earlier. I didn¡¯t notice it once we got above ground again, but now that we¡¯re here, and everything¡¯s quiet¡­

    That''s all I can hear.

    ¡°You hear it too, right¡­¡± Arezza squeezes my hand. Her shoulder brushes against mine.

    ¡°That noise. It¡¯s easier to notice when it¡¯s quiet.¡±

    ¡°Only the really young kids can hear it¡­ but they¡¯re used to it, somehow. I¡­ I just can¡¯t. I hear it all the time. When it¡¯s loud, or when it¡¯s quiet. The perfect rhythm of a heartbeat, thudding in my ears. I hate it. It terrifies me. It terrifies me so much that it makes me want to just get out of here and run, as far and as fast as I can away from this place, and hope that I can escape that sound, but¡­¡± She catches herself, her voice having grown so desperate she¡¯s panting to catch her breath as her body shakes in fear. She¡¯s squeezing my hand so hard it¡¯s starting to hurt.

    I do my best to reassure her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She relaxes a little, realising she¡¯s been squeezing my hand to death as she finally turns to look at me, with tears filling her emerald eyes.

    ¡°A-ah, sorry, I got a bit¡­¡± She sits up, wiping her tears from her cheeks. ¡°Just, uh¡­ I can¡¯t let the kids know I get like this¡­ nor¡­ nor can I leave them to fend for themselves just because I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± I smile. ¡°Your sense of responsibility is admirable. You¡¯ve earned some of the Chief¡¯s respect in that regard, too.¡±

    ¡°I have¡­? I can¡¯t get a read on that woman. She¡¯s prideful, overbearing, short-tempered, mean¡­¡± Arezza says, counting off the descriptors for the Chief she¡¯s come up with.

    I almost reflexively check behind me to make sure that the Chief hasn¡¯t just walked back into the room as Arezza describes her, but thankfully, she¡¯s not here yet.

    ¡°She means well, but¡­ she¡¯s certainly prideful. She cares about others and always wants to help, though. It was her decision to come here and form an alliance after she heard about your situation from Crow.¡±

    ¡°What is Haven like, in your opinion?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Compared to the rest of the Abyss, it¡¯s almost¡­ comically ¡®normal¡¯. Normal houses, a normal farm. A normal village. The only sound at night is the distant roaring of the waterfall, our lifeline of clean water. I¡¯d never heard that¡­ thudding noise before until I came along on this journey with the Chief. Maybe I also heard it when I first woke up in the Abyss, but I shrugged it off as just a throbbing headache then. I had greater concerns at the time than just a strange thudding sound.¡±

    ¡°My condition to see Haven for myself isn¡¯t solely based on my desire to escape that thudding sound¡­¡± Arezza pouts.

    ¡°Besides the young children, can you hear it because you¡¯re an Azorii? I know a human¡¯s sensitivity to sound decreases as they age, so are an Azorii¡¯s ears more sensitive to sound?¡±

    ¡°That would make sense, but then¡­ all the children older than eight can¡¯t hear it anymore. Why can you hear it too, Marina?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Uh¡­ That¡¯s¡­ a good question. I don¡¯t know why I can also hear it. I¡¯ll just credit my wings for it. Since I¡¯ve got them, I¡¯ve been far more aware of my surroundings than I was before, whether I want to be or not¡­¡±

    ¡°Then why do you keep getting startled when I snea- when I sit next to you?¡± Arezza asks, trying her best not to grin.

    ¡°That¡­ is a good question. Something I¡¯ll have to ask them about later.¡±

    ¡°Can you ask your wings why they like touching my wings so much?¡± She asks, looking down as an outermost pinion feather of mine pokes at her wing. Wait.

    ¡°Oi!! Stop that!¡± I hiss, grabbing my wing and pulling it away from her, much to Arezza¡¯s amusement.

    ¡°They really do have a mind of their own, don¡¯t they. It¡¯s rather endearing how they misbehave~¡± Arezza giggles.

    ¡°At least, when I need them, they¡¯re happy enough to cooperate¡­ they dislike hard landings just as much as I do, and do their best to keep me in the air, we¡¯re just¡­ it¡¯s a lot to figure out when neither you nor anyone you know knows how to fly.¡±

    ¡°I had special teachers who trained me to fly with grace, and even then it¡¯s difficult. I can¡¯t imagine how hard it would be to try and figure it out on your own without anyone else to help.¡± She says.

    ¡°Which is why you¡¯ll help teach me how to fly, right¡­?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Marina. I¡¯ll have you flying through the air before you know it~¡± Arezza grins as she leans close to me, her honeyed voice right in my ear, ¡°If you can make it worth my while¡­¡±

    ¡°W-worth your¡­¡±

    ¡°Marina, please, you can¡¯t go red up to your ears so easily¡­ It just makes me want to tease you even more~!¡± Arezza giggles to herself. Her giggle reminds me a lot of Tiff¡¯s. I feel like they¡¯d get along. Worse still, they¡¯d probably double up on teasing someone to overload them even faster.

    They¡¯d probably team up against me, first, knowing my luck. Is that good luck or bad luck? I¡¯ll leave that up to interpretation.

    ¡°Well then, Marina, I do believe it¡¯s time I retired for the night~¡± Arezza stands, giving me a polite curtsey as she turns to her room. ¡°We have a busy day tomorrow, so we best get some sleep.¡±

    The bed awaiting me in my room was, without, a doubt the most comfortable bed I¡¯ve slept in since I first woke up in the Underlands.

    Not that I was able to get any meaningful amount of sleep with Arezza¡¯s teasing voice still ringing in my ears.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven

    The next morning, a modest feast was prepared and served in the honour of the Wolf Pup¡¯s first official visitors. I stress that this was a modest feast, and that we had to stop the children of the Capital from emptying their entire storeroom onto the table for us to enjoy. The Dead Hollows is no less dangerous than anywhere else in the Abyss, but its name is a bit of a misnomer. Beneath the crimson canopy and the labyrinthine roots of the forest lies a hidden, lush ecosystem of fruiting plants and root vegetables on the forest floor, only accessible via the many criss-crossing tunnels dug by jackhorns, one of the few native creatures small and dextrous enough to move about the Hollows without getting snatched into the hungry maw of a waiting Fool¡¯s Gum false-tree.

    The other secret to the Wolf Pup¡¯s continued existence, alongside the bountiful undergrowth and the purified water from Arezza¡¯s enchanted fountain, is the underground jackhorn farm maintained by the older children. Unsurprisingly, the Red Wolf in charge of looking after the farm is Jackhorn himself, who¡¯s been raising the eponymous animals for five years now. Despite their rabbit-like appearance, jackhorns are no less dangerous than any other animal of the Abyss, and even the semi-domesticated ones raised on the farm may still gore you on their antlers if they feel threatened. I¡¯ve eaten rabbit before, but the rabbit-like jackhorns taste far more gamey and¡­ not all that pleasant by any standard, but any meat is always better than having no meat whatsoever.

    Despite having their own source of meat, the Wolf Pups were more than happy to accept our gifts of dried meat. The constant, humid state of the caves makes naturally drying foodstuffs almost impossible, on top of the lack of salt and almost any form of spices for preservation¡¯s sake. Their tools are fashioned from wood, stone, and bone, with precious little metal anywhere to be found. Yes, there is the silverware that Arezza had summoned from her home, but there¡¯s no real way for the children to fashion the forks, spoons, dinner knives and plates into anything useful; in fact, the children outright reject the notion of damaging their queen¡¯s personal property dining utensils altogether. The clothes they wear are, for the most part, the clothes they wore when they died. Every Wolf Pup has a long, dark cloak they wear, woven from rough flax-like material that keeps them dry, and protects their clothes for as long as they can.

    Yet despite their largely impoverished and rough condition, every single one of them always had a smile on their face, excitedly listening to the stories Rann and Johnny had to tell, looking up in awe at Rob who¡¯s already hit his head on the low-hanging cave roof more than a dozen times, playing hide and seek with a happy Arshiya and a reluctant (but quietly enjoying himself) Arshak, and of course, obsessing over my wings. Touching them all over, being careful round the blade-feathers, and some of them just outright leaning against my wings to feel their soft fluffiness all over themselves. Naturally, my wings love the attention, and pay no heed to the bizarre sensation of feeling tiny hands all over a pair of limbs I¡¯m still not fully accustomed to, and my wings seem to get more attention themselves than I, the person they¡¯re attached to, do. I¡¯m not jealous, for the record. I just don¡¯t know how to describe this feeling.

    I could ask the Chief, but she¡¯s been quietly giggling to herself as I¡¯m treated like a human petting zoo with a crowd of children around me at all times. I¡¯ve had the niggling thought in the back of my mind that she decided to bring me along to meet the Wolf Pups, a group made up entirely of children, after seeing how enamoured the children of Haven were with my wings. If this is to be my fate, then so be it.

    The festivities and general merriment lasted from the morning until just after noon, when everyone had to get back to work to prepare everything necessary for the Queen¡¯s visit to Haven. Crow had become an overnight celebrity for his time in Haven, even more so than the people actually from Haven, but it wasn¡¯t hard to guess the reason why. The children of the Wolf Pups wanted to know what the children of Haven were like. From what I¡¯ve overheard, the Wolf Pups certainly like the children of Haven for how they helped Crow. It puts the Chief in a bit of an awkward situation; yes, the children all banded together and lied to keep Crow secret, but their earnest desire to help Crow has made her quietly quite proud of the children she¡¯s helped raise.

    Given our short stay, getting ready to return to Haven is shortly taken care of for us, leaving us with some free time as everyone runs around getting everything ready for the Queen¡¯s departure. We had not sat idle in this free time, however, as the Chief sat in a quiet corner of the bunkroom the boys slept in with Rann and I.

    ¡°Since you¡¯ve been busy, Chief, I¡¯ll give you the honour of starting.¡± Rann says, leaning back against the wall as he takes a swig from his waterskin.

    ¡°Since you so graciously offered, Rann.¡± The Chief sits up, clearing her throat. ¡°There were a few statements made the previous day that I felt weren¡¯t entirely true, so I¡¯ve done my due diligence of getting some answers.¡±

    ¡°Peacefully, I hope.¡± Rann mutters into his waterskin.

    ¡°Yes, peacefully.¡± The Chief scowls, before regaining her composure. ¡°In particular, the truth of how this place and the Wolf Pups came to be.¡±

    ¡°The question of where all the adults are.¡±

    ¡°I have an answer to that, Marina. A simple one. They¡¯re most likely all dead.¡± The Chief answers bluntly.

    ¡°At the hands of Harv¡¯s marauding fools, I see.¡± Rann comments as if this is just a fact.

    ¡°Harv¡­ I¡¯ve heard that name before, but I don¡¯t know what it relates to.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s the leader of the Bone Breakers. The largest and most dangerous group of people in the Abyss. Someone Rann has¡­ personal history with.¡± The Chief sighs to herself, letting Rann explain.

    ¡°Just my luck to end up down here with him¡­ Gods-damned fool got us both killed, and didn¡¯t have the courtesy to end up in some other time or somewhere other than the Abyss.¡± Rann growls, in the first display of anger I¡¯ve ever actually seen from him.

    ¡°Personal history, I see¡­¡± I¡¯m hesitant to ask any further.

    ¡°That¡¯s not important right now. There¡¯s more to the story of what happened to the adults here, isn¡¯t there, Chief?¡± Rann brings the conversation back on topic, the anger disappearing from his voice as if it was never there in the first place.

    ¡°Last night, I spoke with Bear about the truth of what happened to ¡®Wolf¡¯ and the rest of the adults of the Capital. Bear could tell that I knew the story of what happened to them as told by the other Red Wolves was a lie. It¡¯s a secret they¡¯ve kept even from Arezza herself. The older children know the truth, but they keep quiet about it for Arezza and the younger children¡¯s sake. The truth is¡­¡±

    The Chief sighs, calming herself before continuing.

    ¡°There were a dozen adults here, including Wolf, their leader, and about twenty children including the four Red Wolves. The adults would periodically venture out to hunt and gather supplies, while the Red Wolves looked after the children. They reasoned if the hunting party didn¡¯t have any children with them, it was less likely they¡¯d be attacked. They¡¯d done this countless times before without issue, for many years. There was the occasional injury, but they never suffered any permanent casualties. That was, until the day a battered, bruised, and bleeding Wolf staggered back to the Capital, holding in his arms a red-haired girl with pearly-white horns and what was clearly a broken wing.¡±

    ¡°Their luck ran out.¡± Rann sighs to himself. ¡°It¡¯s only by luck that they lasted that long without losing anyone.¡±

    ¡°It was early in the morning when Wolf returned. Everyone beside the Red Wolves were still asleep. Wolf told them what happened. They found the girl in his arms unconscious on the forest floor. They¡¯d never seen or heard of anything like her before, but it was clear she was injured and needed help. They picked her up and planned on taking her back to the Capital without a second thought. It was on the way back that they were attacked by a group far larger than their own. I needn¡¯t say who their attackers were, I¡¯m sure.¡± The Chief says. I can hear the lump in her throat she¡¯s trying her hardest to pretend isn¡¯t there. This story doesn¡¯t have a happy ending.

    ¡°The Bone Breakers.¡±

    ¡°Their name is literal, if you didn¡¯t know. They break their captive¡¯s legs so they can¡¯t run, or break their arms so they can¡¯t fight. They came from nowhere and savagely attacked Wolf and the others. They were outnumbered four to one. Several of them died in the initial clash, and the rest agreed to split off and run in different directions so at least one of them might live. Wolf took the red-haired girl in his arms and ran. He fought off his pursuers, but he was bleeding heavily by the time he made it back to the Capital, where the Red Wolves were waiting for him. He told them what happened, even as he collapsed to his knees in exhaustion. That everyone was dead or captured, and that they needed to stay underground for the next few weeks to ensure the Bone Breakers didn''t find their settlement. To tell the children that although they¡¯d been attacked, they lead the attackers away to keep them secret and safe, and that they¡¯d return one day. And finally, to look after the red-haired girl, and keep her safe as well. Once all that was said¡­¡± The Chief pauses, taking a deep breath. ¡°He died on the spot.¡±

    I¡¯m not good with the topic of death, even after experiencing it first-hand. I don¡¯t know what to do, or what to say, so I just end up sitting here silently. Rann sits a little straighter, clenching his right hand and holding it over his heart in a brief salute before relenting.

    ¡°I hope whatever comes after death here is better than the Underlands.¡± He sighs.

    ¡°So¡­ even Arezza doesn¡¯t know that the man who saved her is dead?¡±

    ¡°That was a decision the Red Wolves and the older children made for themselves. A white lie to keep some semblance of hope alive for her. None of them knew how to fix her wing, but they did their best to look after her. Of course, once she¡¯d recovered enough, she wanted to help in return for the help she received. It was on that day that this unnamed hole they¡¯d been living in became the Capital, the four oldest children became the Red Wolves, and she became their Queen. They had one mission; to rescue and protect the younger children of the Abyss. In the past three years, their numbers have more than doubled; there¡¯s nearly as many children here as there are people in Haven. Thanks to Arezza¡¯s magic and the Red Wolves¡¯ leadership, as you can see, they¡¯ve done quite well for themselves.¡± The Chief nods, affording a small smile.

    ¡°Do you think she knows the truth, Chief? About all of this.¡± Rann asks.

    ¡°She may have displayed several cases of poor judgement in the short time we¡¯ve known her, but she¡¯s certainly no fool. She likely knows she hasn¡¯t been told the whole story, but feels it¡¯s best not to ask about it. She values the safety and wellbeing of the children over sating her own curiosity.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°Well. What have you learned so far, Marina?¡± Rann turns to me. My turn to speak, I guess.

    ¡°Have either of you noticed a dull, distant thudding noise while you¡¯ve been here?¡±

    The two look at each other, then shake their heads.

    ¡°A thudding noise? Like someone hitting something?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a low, deep noise that shakes in your chest, with the rhythm of a heartbeat that isn¡¯t your own. Arza said that only she and the very young children can hear it. When I stop and listen for it¡­ I can hear it too.¡±

    The two of them go quiet, straining their ears to listen out for this distinct noise; to no avail.

    ¡°A thudding noise with the rhythm of a heartbeat¡­¡± The Chief ponders, furrowing her brow.

    ¡°It may have something to do with the idea that the Abyss itself is¡­ alive, in some way. If it¡¯s alive, then it¡¯s not that far-fetched that it would have¡­¡±

    ¡°A heart.¡± The Chief finishes for me.

    ¡°A heart? A living, beating heart?¡± Rann blinks, unconvinced.

    ¡°Not living in any way we recognise, but if it¡¯s beating¡­ maybe it really is the corpse of a god we¡¯re standing on.¡± The Chief muses to herself. ¡°Gods, theologians would have decades of material to argue over if they got their hands on this. A god¡¯s earthly remains, to study, research, and venerate. It would certainly throw the schools that insist that the gods never possessed physical bodies for a loop.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave the study to the priests. If the Abyss is alive, and it has a heart, then¡­ Ah. I don¡¯t suppose you or Arezza knows where this ¡®heart¡¯ is, do you?¡± Rann asks. I shake my head. All we know is it¡¯s probably somewhere underground, near the Abyss¡¯ centre.

    ¡°Was worth a shot.¡± He shrugs.

    ¡°Did she share anything else in the time I left the two of you alone?¡± The Chief asks me.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°She has an admirable sense of responsibility over the children here.¡±

    ¡°I knew that already. Anything else?¡± The Chief sighs. I have to stop myself from smiling, but a frown from the Chief tells me I was too slow.

    ¡°She¡¯s agreed to teach me how to fly, and she¡¯s looking forward to seeing Haven for herself.¡±

    ¡°Good. And?¡± She nods.

    ¡°Uh¡­ her wings feel very soft to the touch.¡±

    ¡°Anything useful.¡± She frowns.

    ¡°Well, most of it was about that noise. It was the first thing she brought up once we were alone, as it causes her a lot of distress being the only one her age that can hear it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s understandable that she¡¯d need someone else to affirm that they can hear it too so it¡¯s not just something in her head, but¡­ if we can¡¯t hear it, why can you, Marina?¡± The Chief furrows her brow.

    ¡°I assume it¡¯s just something to do with my wings. They make me a lot more perceptive of my surroundings, so maybe they make my hearing more sensitive, somehow. That¡¯s the only answer I can think of.¡±

    ¡°Your wings can hear, but they can¡¯t fly. Not very good at what they¡¯re supposed to do, are they.¡± Rann comments.

    ¡°With Arza¡¯s help, maybe I will fly one day. At least they¡¯re not totally useless in the meantime.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s all, Marina, then that makes it your turn, Rann.¡± The Chief and I turn to Rann.

    ¡°I had Arshak take a look around last night while I had a chat with Bull and Jackhorn about how things are going here. What they said and what Arshak found lines up. They¡¯re starting to hit the limit of what they can do here.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°They¡¯re running out of supplies? Food, space, clothing?¡± The Chief guesses.

    ¡°They can¡¯t make new clothes, excluding the rough cloaks they stitch together from whatever bit of hide, fur, or feather they can find. Securing more food is a problem as the tunnels around the Capital have only gotten more dangerous over time. Normally, where there¡¯s people, the wild animals flee. The opposite happened here. More predators, things far worse than jackhorns have been spotted in the tunnels. Their foraging paths grow more dangerous by the day. Jackhorn manages the food when he¡¯s not off pathfinding. He¡¯s a smart kid. He estimates that they won¡¯t have enough food to feed everyone within a year, if they keep rescuing kids at their current rate.¡± He continues.

    ¡°What is their current rate?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°Two every moon. Sometimes more. They¡¯re nearing sixty people here now.¡± Rann sits up, adjusting his posture before relaxing again. ¡°We¡¯ll have a lot of work to do back at Haven. Need a second bunkhouse, at least.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s Haven¡¯s rescue rate¡­?¡±

    ¡°One every two to three moons. Used to be higher, but now we know where the kids have been going.¡± Rann sighs. ¡°Though, this means the rate of new arrivals hasn¡¯t dropped like we hoped.¡±

    ¡°No, but at least we know they¡¯ve been in good hands. They¡¯ll be under our care soon enough.¡± The Chief adds.

    ¡°The way things look here, we showed up at the right time. They know they¡¯ll start running short of food soon enough, and we fell into their laps before things got bad.¡± Rann nods. ¡°Seems their luck hasn¡¯t run out.¡±

    ¡°A rare moment of fortune, given the circumstances. For both parties involved.¡± The Chief smiles to herself. ¡°I told you everything would be fine if I presented the case for an alliance in person.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s worked out because we brought Marina along. She¡¯s been our good luck charm since the day we found her.¡± Rann chuckles.

    Is that my role now? A good luck charm? A mascot? A familiar? What is my actual role in Haven?

    ¡°I deserve at least some of the credit for this diplomatic mission! It was at my behest that she came in the first place!¡± The Chief protests.

    ¡°You made their Queen look like a fool in front of her subjects. I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t hold her upside down mid-air.¡± Rann raises an eyebrow slightly.

    ¡°She¡¯s the one that started it with her little parlour-room magic trick. As a Sage of the Order of the Golden Light, I have a reputation to uphold, no matter who attempts to disparage it.¡± The Chief huffs, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Good thing Marina was here. Her wings make a great distraction.¡± He nods towards me.

    ¡°So I am a mascot. I¡¯m just here to carry around the wings all the kids love to touch.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not a mascot, Marina.¡± the Chief sighs. ¡°You¡¯re far more important than that.¡±

    ¡°Then what is my role? My title, if I have one?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re my right hand, Marina. One of the few people I rely on. You live under the same roof as me. Do you not recognise the special position you hold within Haven? I trust you enough to involve you in important conversations such as this. If you haven¡¯t clued in by now, then I don¡¯t know what will.¡± She continues, speaking directly to me. She¡¯s trying to play it off and state things matter-of-factly, despite it being obvious how much she cares. For someone so good at reading emotions, she¡¯s not always proficient at hiding her own.

    ¡°Heh.¡± Rann chuckles to himself, taking another swig from his waterskin.

    ¡°And what do you find so amusing, Rann Carteren?¡± The Chief turns to Rann, giving him an annoyed glare.

    Rann just shrugs in the face of the Chief¡¯s annoyed look. Tiff told me why Rann brought me back to Haven - he had a hunch the Chief would take an interest in me, even before he found out about my wings. His gut instinct was right, and he wasn¡¯t above a self-satisfied chuckle over that.

    ¡°If that¡¯s all, then we should go check how Arezza¡¯s preparations are going. I would have hoped to have left in the morning, but since they insisted on holding a feast in our honour¡­¡± The Chief says, standing up and dusting herself off. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see Haven today anyway.¡±

    ¡°There was nothing stopping you from turning this morning¡¯s extended breakfast down.¡± Rann comments as he stands, rubbing his shoulder.

    ¡°There was everything stopping me! You never turn down a meal offered by your host, that is the epitome of being an ungrateful guest!¡± She counters, shocked at even the idea of doing something so rude.

    Rann just lets out another self-satisfied chuckle as we head out the door.

    Unfortunately, Arezza still wasn¡¯t ready to leave when we went to check on her. She was having a hard time picking which outfits to bring along in the six suitcases she had summoned from her home. The Chief baulked at the sight of this; she then took three outfits, fit them neatly in one suitcase, handed that to Arezza, and told her to be ready to go within an hour. For the journey to Haven, Arezza was wearing the most heavy-duty boots she could find, a long, white cloak that was definitely going to be filthy by the time we got back that covered her wings which hung close to her waist, and a utilitarian, but no less expensive blue dress best-suited for travelling. Most of her wardrobe was blue and white, from what I saw of it. Oh, and her wardrobe was an entire room, bigger than the already spacious bedroom I slept in last night. Only the royal and the obscenely rich could own so many clothes.

    The Wolf Queen would not be travelling to Haven without a few of her loyal Pups coming along. It was decided that Crow would remain in the Capital; that way if anything were to happen, at least one person there would know the way to Haven. Griffin would be the Red Wolf accompanying Arezza as her personal bodyguard, leaving the Capital in the hands of Bear, Jackhorn, and Bull. Finally, Rabbit and Mole would be joining us. Arezza and the Chief agreed it would be beneficial to do a trial run, with them spending a week at Haven with the other children to see how they mingle. Rabbit is, unsurprisingly, ecstatic over this, while Mole was surprised he was chosen at all.

    With everybody finally ready some time mid-afternoon, we had all gathered before the hidden front gate of the Capital, on the verge of our journey. Our trip today would be a short trip to Mole¡¯s outpost, and tomorrow we would make the rest of the journey to Haven. Arezza told the Red Wolves to tell anyone still awake last night what the plan was, and reiterated the point to everyone this morning during breakfast that she would be travelling to Haven for a week.

    Of course, it wasn¡¯t easy for all the Wolf Pups to just accept this. Their Queen would be gone for a week. To the youngest ones, this was the worst thing imaginable. Many of them cried helplessly into the arms of the older children who did their best to console them. The rest of the children, however, did their best to show their steely-faced discipline and determination. They stood in neat, ordered ranks, standing tall and proud to see their Queen off. They¡¯d see her again soon, they told themselves, as they tried their hardest to not betray any hint of sadness. Arezza thanked each one by name, seeing them off personally with a hug, one by one, especially the littlest ones who were crying; she didn¡¯t stop hugging them until they were all smiling again. It was taking a little longer, but the Chief raised no issue and stood quietly by the gate.

    ¡°My proud Wolf Pups.¡± Arezza smiles, turning to face the children. ¡°All fifty-six of you! If our queendom keeps growing like this, I¡¯m going to be spending all morning hugging each and every one of you, and that¡¯s if everybody behaves themselves and nobody tries to sneak in a second hug before someone else has had their first one.¡±

    The younger children giggle, wiping their tears. A few of the older ones look a little guilty - it seems their Queen¡¯s hugs are quite a precious commodity among the Wolf Pups.

    ¡°I will be visiting the city of Haven for a week. Haven¡¯s people and their chief have made a very generous offer to us, and it is my duty as your Queen to see Haven for myself before agreeing to their offer. Haven may, one day, be a new home for many of us. A safer home, where we don¡¯t have to worry about food or dangerous animals. Crow told me they even have a waterfall of crystal clear water gushing down the cliffs, filling pools with enough water to drink, clean, wash, and play in!¡± She continues.

    A few children are excited over the idea of a waterfall, while others say that the Capital is safe and already has clean water, thanks to the Queen. What else does Haven have to offer that the Wolf Pups don¡¯t already have?

    ¡°The most important part of this journey is the children of Haven itself. Yes, they have many adults, but they have many children too; the same ages as all of you. I¡¯d like to meet them myself, and hear what they have to say about Haven. If they¡¯re as kind and helpful as they were to Crow, then I¡¯m sure that they¡¯d be just as happy to make friends with all of you, too. You are all my loyal subjects¡­ but more than that, you¡¯re my family. You took me in when I was injured, nursed me back to health, and accepted me as one of your own. From what I¡¯ve learned from Crow, Haven¡¯s Chief, and the others that came here, Haven¡¯s family is not that much unlike our own. One day, our two families may even become one.¡± Arezza looks back at the Chief with a smile, who gives her a nod as she steps forth.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t worry about your Queen¡¯s safety, Wolf Pups. I travelled here under the protection of some of Haven¡¯s greatest warriors, and the journey back will be assisted by one of your own Red Wolves. I promise that your Queen, alongside the Wolf Pups joining us in Haven, will be returned safely in a week¡¯s time.¡± The Chief gives a polite bow, playing along with the ¡®regal¡¯ atmosphere to soothe the Wolf Pups¡¯ worries.

    Bear, Jackhorn, and Bull step forward from the crowd, standing shoulder to shoulder as their masks stare unblinkingly at the Chief, before the three of them bow in unison.

    ¡°We will take your word, Chief of Haven. We entrust you, and Griffin, with our Queen¡¯s and our two Pups¡¯ safety.¡± Jackhorn says, standing back up straight.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be safe in our hands.¡± Rann says, crossing his arms and nodding. ¡°We should get moving now. We¡¯re burning what little sunlight we get.¡±

    Before we go to leave, a minor commotion breaks out in the crowd, as a small group of kids shuffle through the others to the front, walking up to the Red Wolves while holding something large and dark in their arms.

    ¡°Before you leave, Your Majesty, there is one last thing needed to ensure your safety.¡± Jackhorn clears his throat.

    ¡°Yes¡­?¡± Arezza turns to answer.

    As she turns, Bear and Bull stand on either side of her, draping a black cloak of feathers across her shoulders, not unlike the cloaks the rest of the Wolf Pups wear, with one noticeable difference - every feather is perfectly clean, straight, and glossy, with a delicately woven red rope securing it around her shoulders. While the children¡¯s cloaks are rough and scruffy but no less capable of keeping them dry and warm, Arezza¡¯s new cloak looks fit for a queen.

    ¡°What is¡­ you made me a cloak?¡± Arezza asks, looking down at her new cloak, feeling its fabric in her hands. ¡°It¡¯s so soft, too¡­ When did you make this?¡±

    ¡°A few moons ago. After everything you¡¯ve done for us, we felt it would be important to give something in return. Besides, a white cloak is poorly suited for travelling across the Abyss.¡± Griffin speaks up. ¡°We saved up the best feathers and the softest fabrics we could find until we had enough to make a proper cloak.¡±

    ¡°For the record, this was Griffin¡¯s idea.¡± You can hear Jackhorn¡¯s wry grin through his mask.

    ¡°I-It was a group idea! Don¡¯t pin it all on me!¡± Griffin retorts, trying to downplay his involvement.

    ¡°Oh, Griffin¡­ Always looking out for me~¡± Arezza smiles, grabbing Griffin and pulling him into a very, very tight hug.

    ¡°W-we all¡­ pitched in, Y-Your Majesty¡­ You don¡¯t have to squeeze so hard¡­!¡± Griffin is doing his best to politely yet firmly push Arezza off him, to no avail whatsoever as Arezza¡¯s arm strength is evidently too much for him.

    ¡°Reminds you of someone, doesn¡¯t she.¡± The Chief quietly comments to me. I know exactly which red-haired girl with serious upper body strength she¡¯s thinking of.

    After a few more hugs, the gates of the Capital finally rose, and we set out into the Abyss once more. We made it out of the Hollows in decent time, much to our collective relief. This was the first time Arezza had left the Capital since she fell into the Abyss, but it quickly became clear that she was no stranger to adventure. In a way, it¡¯s how she ended up down here in the first place.

    After an hour, we made it to the edge of the Dead Hollows, and the leering, sneering Grinning Gums surrounding us and covering the floor with their roots gave way to the less overtly threatening (but no less red) trees common to the rest of the Abyss. There was little conversation as we moved. No order of silence was given, but we all intrinsically knew it was best to keep quiet. There¡¯s many dos and don¡¯ts when it comes to travelling as a group, heavily dependent on the size of said group. A small group can move quickly and quietly, and avoid drawing much attention to themselves. A large group has enough manpower to fend off anything that may intercept it. A medium sized group like ours, with a bit over a dozen members, had none of these perks. Not small enough to quietly escape, not big enough to make someone second guess attacking us. In a worst case scenario, we certainly don¡¯t have a shortage of capable warriors and powerful mages, but it was better safe than sorry.

    Just as the last light of day disappeared behind the distant cliffs, we¡¯d made it back to Mole¡¯s outpost, on the western fringe of Dead Man¡¯s Dream. Hound and Magpie were quite exasperated to see that not only had we returned to hole up in their dugout, but a Red Wolf, two of their squad mates, and the Wolf Queen herself had come to stay the night before setting off for Haven in the morning. The thirteen of us crowded in, got ourselves as comfortable as we could, and hunkered down for what rest we could get before the long march tomorrow.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight

    I don¡¯t think any of us got even half as much rest as we¡¯d have liked to. The ground was almost frigid beneath us, yet the air was hot and humid. Take into account that there¡¯s thirteen of us, fifteen including Hound and Magpie, all crammed into a space that¡¯s about the size of an average bathroom, and with most of us wearing cloaks and heavy gear¡­ yeah. I don¡¯t need to describe the smell that permeated that dugout.

    Despite the limited space and the smell, most of us had managed to get comfortable enough to get some sleep. A deep enough sleep that none of us wanted to wake up when the Chief decided that we¡¯d be leaving before or just after dawn that day.

    ¡°Honestly. You¡¯d think with how much complaining there was last night, you¡¯d all be climbing out of here as soon as possible to get back home to a comfortable bed.¡± The Chief sighs, standing by the outpost¡¯s entrance.

    ¡°That¡¯s cos it took all damn night to get comfortable enough for some shut-eye¡­¡± Johnny grumbles, stretching his legs.

    ¡°Come on you two. Time to get moving.¡± Rann pats Arshak¡¯s shoulder, who groans and turns away, huddled up against his twin sister.

    The Chief, Rann, Rob, Einar, Griffin, and I had all gotten up without much fuss, and John, Arshak and Arshiya were getting up with some fuss. Arezza, Mole, and Rabbit, though¡­

    Were all snuggled together in a corner, the two children resting either side of Arezza with her wings wrapped around them as they all dozed peacefully. It¡¯s so precious and cute that I couldn¡¯t bring myself to disturb them.

    The Chief, however, has places to be, and has no issue rousing them from their slumber.

    ¡°It¡¯s already past dawn, Arezza. We need to get moving.¡± She says in a slightly softer tone, kneeling down in front of them. Arezza just groans and just gets herself more comfy, much to the Chief¡¯s annoyance, but at least Mole and Rabbit start to stir.

    ¡°Her Majesty has¡­ never been a morning person.¡± Griffin tries to explain, which does little to abate the Chief¡¯s frustrations.

    ¡°Neither am I. That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not capable of waking up early every day, as is expected of my role as the Chief of Haven.¡± The Chief shoots back, glaring at Griffin over her shoulder.

    Rabbit sits up, rubbing her eyes and turning to rock Arezza gently.

    ¡°Your Majesty, we¡¯re going to see the waterfall today¡­ We¡¯re going on an adventure to Haven¡­¡± Rabbit mumbles, as Arezza finally sits up and blinks tiredly.

    ¡°Mhh¡­ Is it morning already¡­¡± She groans, still half-asleep.

    ¡°Yes, it is. Meaning it¡¯s past time we got moving.¡± The Chief huffs, standing up in front of Arezza and crossing her arms.

    ¡°Hmm¡­?¡± Arezza blinks, looking up at the Chief. She glances around the room at everyone, before realising where she is and what¡¯s going on. ¡°E-eh?! Right! We were going to Haven today! Right!¡±

    Arezza springs to her feet, helping get Rabbit and Mole moving as she quickly gathers her things to be ready to set off for Haven, and soon enough, we¡¯re all packed up and ready to move.

    ¡°From here, we¡¯ll head west until we reach the edge of the Ghostwood, then follow along its border south until we reach the Seeping Wound, then further south ¡®til we reach the crossroads. We follow along the road there for the rest of the day, and we should reach Haven before sundown. Don¡¯t talk unless needed until we reach the Wound. Any questions?¡± Rann asks, laying out our travel plan for the day.

    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®the Ghostwoods¡¯?¡± Arezza asks, frowning in concern.

    ¡°You¡¯ll know it when you see it, your Majesty.¡± Griffin pats Arezza on her shoulder.

    That saying applies to pretty much the entirety of the Abyss. You hear some horrible name like ¡°the Seeping Wound¡±, or the ¡°Stonefields¡±, or the ¡°Ghostwood¡±, and you ask what it is, and you¡¯re just told ¡°You¡¯ll know it when you see it.¡±

    Which, yeah, has turned out true every time it happened. We¡¯ll know the Ghostwood when we see it.

    After Arezza gave goodbye hugs to Magpie and a begrudging Hound, we were off.

    We moved west across the Abyss for most of the morning, keeping conversation to a minimum while we were still close to Dead Man¡¯s Dream, the centre of the Abyss. This is my fifth time crossing the Abyss, and my third time returning to Haven if you include the first time I was, er¡­ kidnapped and brought here as a prisoner. Who knows how many more times I¡¯ll be traversing the wilds beyond Haven in this new life, but given I¡¯m more or less an official part of the Expedition Team now, I¡¯ll just have to get used to it.

    Step by step, traipsing through the mud, always watching your step and having to stop every now and then to scrape the mud off your boots before it hardens in the hot, dry air. A reverse of the problems we had when we were trying to get some sleep last night. In a way, I¡¯m used to the daily problems of living in the Abyss, yet despite the fact that I¡¯ve been here for four¡­ maybe even five months by now, I can¡¯t get used to living here. No one can. Just as you think you¡¯ve got a handle on things and you¡¯re used to how things are, the weather changes, the temperature drops or rises, the humidity goes up and down. It¡¯s happened enough times that I¡¯m growing more and more convinced that, in some way, the Abyss itself is alive. Alive enough to screw with you and make sure you never get too comfortable or used to things for its liking.

    Complaining about it won¡¯t change anything, though. The only thing that will, is escaping this place as the Chief plans to. We¡¯ve all but secured the help of one other faction already, another step towards her goal. There was one thing we learned during our trip to the Wolf Pups that may change her plans, though.

    The ¡°heartbeat¡± of the Abyss. Whatever its source may be.

    It might not change things, though. If the Abyss has a ¡®heart¡¯, what does that mean? It might be sentient in some way in its capacity to ensure things are consistently awful, but is it alive? If it is, can it be killed? Would killing it even do anything?

    An arm thrust out in front of me disrupts my train of thought.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t take a step closer, Marina.¡± Rann comments, staring at what lays before us.

    The red, muddy earth of the Abyss suddenly gives way to a grey, cracked carpet of sand. Ghost-white trunks erupt from the ground, featureless and smooth, crowned with twisted branches that reach toward the bleak sky like grasping hands, their skeletal fingers adorned with thin grey leaves, frozen in their futile effort to touch the clouds above.

    There¡¯s nothing else of note. Grey and dry soil riven with cracks, ghost white trees, and deathly still air.

    ¡°The Ghostwood.¡± I comment. ¡°You didn¡¯t leave anything out when you described it, Johnny.¡±

    ¡°Told ya, Feathers.¡± Johnny shrugs, shifting uncomfortably as he looks into the lifeless forest.

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly¡­ You¡¯d certainly know it when you see it, now that I look upon it¡­¡± Arezza says, taking one step closer.

    A visible chill runs down her spine, making her shudder on the spot and take several hurried steps back, panting.

    ¡°W-what in Anisphia¡¯s name was that?! I didn¡¯t even step on the grey soil¡­¡± She says between laboured breaths, as Griffin hurries over to calm her.

    ¡°That¡¯s why we don¡¯t enter the Ghostwood. Sucks the life right out of you. We¡¯ve reached the edge of it, now we head south.¡± Rann says, turning south to lead us on.

    We trekked south, keeping within eyesight of the Ghostwood while avoiding veering too close to it, but even just being within eyesight of it is unnerving. On my left, I can hear the distant crackling of fire, the occasional groan of wood, the rustle of leaves, and the distant howl of beasts; the odd, but ¡®natural¡¯ sounds of the Abyss. On my right¡­ nothing. No wind, no noise, no movement, no life. It¡¯s debatable if even the trees are alive. They could just be the petrified remains of what was once just another forest part of the Abyss, until something happened to them. Whatever that something could be, though, I¡¯d have no idea whatsoever.

    ¡°So¡­ Rann?¡± I speak up, moving up to walk beside Rann.

    ¡°We¡¯re not there yet.¡± He says back.

    ¡°I know, I was just going to ask how big the Ghostwood is, and how far it is until we reach the Seeping Wound.¡±

    ¡°The Wound runs along the western edge of the Ghostwood. We¡¯ll reach it soon enough.¡± He says, glancing across at the Ghostwood through the trees.

    ¡°How much of the Abyss have you seen for yourself¡­?¡±

    ¡°Everything west of Dead Man¡¯s I¡¯ve trekked over many times. The east of the Abyss, though¡­¡± He trails off, pondering for a moment. ¡°The east is a different story.¡±

    ¡°The east is where most people in the Abyss live. The water is cleaner, and there¡¯s less predatory beasts. It¡¯s less inhospitable than the west.¡± Griffin adds, walking behind Rann and I with Arezza.

    ¡°Less beasts, sure, but the people take their place as predators. Most in the east are nomads, besides the Keepsguard. They have to keep moving so the Breakers and whatever other brigands have ended up down here don¡¯t find them. Might makes right, over there. Strength is the only thing that matters.¡± Rann clarifies. He¡¯s more than familiar with how things work outside Haven¡¯s walls.

    ¡°Breaker filth¡­¡± Griffin growls. ¡°A dozen of the Wolf Pups were orphaned or abandoned by the Breakers. They capture or kill the adults, and leave the kids to die on their own. They scared some of the kids so bad they¡¯ve never even talked¡­¡±

    ¡°Where was I found in the Abyss, Griffin? I remember feeling like I was almost halfway over flying across it before I fell.¡± Arezza asks.

    ¡°West of Dead Man¡¯s Dream, Your Majesty.¡± Griffin immediately shifts tone to a steady, respectful voice when speaking to Arezza. ¡°Quite close to the Hollows, actually. You¡¯re lucky you didn¡¯t land inside the Hollows, else Wolf may not have found you.¡±

    Rann glances back over his shoulder at Griffin.

    ¡°Wolf.¡± He says, getting Griffin¡¯s attention.

    ¡°What about him?¡± Griffin responds.

    ¡°You said he set off to find a way out of the Abyss, and you haven¡¯t heard from him since. What direction did he go when he left?¡± Rann asks, keeping his eyes forward.

    ¡°... East.¡± Griffin answers, after a long pause.

    ¡°East¡­? Weren¡¯t you just saying that the east is the more dangerous side of the Abyss?¡± Arezza says, looking between Griffin and Rann in concern.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Wolf is more than capable of keeping himself safe. I just wonder what he was looking for in the east.¡± Rann says.

    ¡°If you¡¯re so familiar with the Abyss, then you know what he was looking for.¡± Griffin says, tension in his voice.

    ¡°Ah. The Gauntlet.¡± Rann nods.

    ¡°The what? What did you just say, Rann?¡± The Chief overhears, moving up to the front of the group and standing in front of Rann, bringing us to a halt.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing but a rumour, Chief. Not worth worrying over. It doesn¡¯t change anything in regard to your plan to get us out of here.¡± He shrugs, but the Chief keeps pressing him for answers.

    ¡°You said ¡®The Gauntlet¡¯. I¡¯ve never heard of it before. Is it a way out of the Abyss?¡± The Chief pushes.

    ¡°Mia¡­¡± Rann sighs.

    ¡°You will call me Chief, or Chief Lichtrufer, in the presence of others, Rann.¡± The Chief narrows her eyes, growing frustrated.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t change anything. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Rann says, trying to fend her off.

    ¡°You¡¯re still not giving me an answer, Rann.¡± She growls, refusing to let up.

    ¡°It¡¯s the rumoured pathway out of the Abyss. It doesn¡¯t exist, Chief.¡± Einar speaks up from the back of the group, as everyone turns to look at him.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°And how do you know that, Einar?¡± The Chief crosses her arms, glaring at him.

    ¡°The previous Chief was obsessed with finding it. Spent years with him looking for it. It doesn¡¯t exist.¡± Einar answers.

    ¡°Is that why he spent so long away from Haven? Why am I only learning this now? Why didn¡¯t either of you two tell me?¡± The Chief looks between Rann and Einar, unhappy with how they¡¯ve withheld this from her.

    ¡°Only a few of us knew what he was looking for. He kept it secret so as not to get people¡¯s hopes up. He spent most of his life looking for it, and it was during one of those hopeless expeditions he caught the sickness that killed him. He didn¡¯t want you to spend all your life chasing the rumour that took his life.¡± Rann finally gives her the straight answer.

    The Chief is speechless at this revelation. Arezza, however, now has questions of her own.

    ¡°So¡­ You¡¯re saying Wolf is looking for something that doesn¡¯t exist?¡± She asks, growing more concerned over what may have happened to the man that saved her life.

    ¡°It might exist, Your Majesty. Wolf knew that people had escaped the Abyss before. They must have gotten out somehow. That isn¡¯t false, right?¡± Griffin turns to Rann for confirmation.

    ¡°According to the books, yes. People have gotten out. No story of them ever described how they escaped, and none have ever mentioned anything about this so-called Gauntlet.¡± Rann nods.

    ¡°Because the Gauntlet doesn¡¯t exist.¡± Einar says, raising his voice slightly. ¡°Anyone still looking for it is a fool.¡±

    ¡°I will not stand by as you besmirch Wolf¡¯s name!¡± Griffin growls, turning and drawing his blade. ¡°Take that back, before I take your eye!¡±

    ¡°Griffin.¡± Arezza says calmly, resting her hand on Griffin¡¯s elbow.

    ¡°Y-your Majesty¡­?¡± He says, lowering his weapon.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Griffin. I know.¡± She manages to smile, but it doesn¡¯t hide the pain in her eyes. This has been on her mind for a while.

    Griffin freezes. Even hidden by his mask, you can see the guilt on his face. Arezza sighs softly to herself, as Rabbit comes up to hug her.

    ¡°Your Majesty¡­? Are you okay¡­?¡± She asks, worried.

    ¡°You¡¯ve known for a while, haven¡¯t you.¡± The Chief states, matter-of-factly.

    ¡°Y-your Majesty¡­ I¡­¡± Griffin stutters, struggling to get his words out.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Griffin. It¡¯s been so long that, a while ago, I quietly accepted the fact that Wolf was never going to come back. Or, rather¡­¡± Arezza sighs quietly, taking a moment to collect herself. ¡°He never left in the first place, did he?¡±

    Griffin has nothing to say in his defence. The lie has been found out. He tries to speak, but by now, his voice has failed him completely.

    ¡°According to Bear, Wolf died shortly after he brought you back to the Wolf Pups, and all the other adults were either dead or captured. I¡¯m¡­ sorry you¡¯re only learning this now.¡± The Chief answers in Griffin¡¯s place.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I had¡­ Well, I¡¯d quietly accepted the fact that this was fate that befell them. Griffin¡­¡± Arezza walks up to Griffin, gently taking his hands in her own. ¡°I know you were only doing what you thought was best for me. Please don¡¯t be harsh on yourself.¡±

    Griffin nods quietly, his mask muffling the sound of his sniffling.

    ¡°You¡¯ve held hands and made up. We¡¯re moving now. You can have a hot meal in the tavern and talk all you want once we get back.¡± Rann says, beckoning us to start moving again.

    ¡°Rann¡­¡± The Chief frowns, glancing across at Arezza and Griffin still holding hands.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± Griffin clears his voice, straightening his posture. ¡°We should get moving. I¡¯d prefer it if we reached Haven before sundown.¡±

    Not long after this, we rounded the southeastern fringe of the Ghostwood, following along its southern border until we reached the tell-tale, bloody red stream, lazily meandering downhill from the south.

    ¡°The Seeping Wound, I presume¡­¡± Arezza muses, gazing up and down the stream¡¯s path.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve got a better name.¡± Rann says, taking off his pack and rubbing his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t fault it for being misleading.¡± Arezza concedes.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t stop here long.¡± The Chief says, scanning the treeline to our south.

    ¡°Just give us a few minutes, Chief¡­¡± Johnny grunts. ¡°You¡¯re not the one carryin¡¯ all the luggage. Besides, the kids must be tired from all this walkin¡¯ too.¡±

    ¡°Are you tired, Mole?¡± Rabbit asks Mole, blinking innocently.

    ¡°Johnny¡¯s just trying to use us as an excuse.¡± Mole answers.

    ¡°Ey! I was lookin¡¯ out for you two!¡± Johnny retorts.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± The Chief says, her gaze fixed on the forest.

    ¡°Do you think there¡¯s something out there, Chief¡­?¡±

    ¡°Do you?¡± She asks, without turning her head.

    I gaze across the forest. Muddy earth, brown trunks, red leaves. Nothing out of the ordinary, ignoring the Ghostwood to our backs.

    ¡°I¡¯m not having the feeling that we¡¯re being watched, like I did when we were returning with the bloodbeast.¡±

    The Chief relaxes her shoulders, turning back to help the others unload their packs for a breather.

    She trusts my judgement. I¡¯ll stay on sentry duty to keep everyone safe, just in case.

    Only a couple of minutes into my watch, though, my wings begin to grow restless under my cloak, rubbing their wrists against my neck.

    What? What¡¯s got you all worked up? We¡¯re not sensing anything watching us, so why are you-

    ¡°Gyaah!¡± I yelp, as my wings rush out from under my cloak, jerking me backwards and trying to turn me to face the Ghostwood.

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you now? Normally you¡¯d just tell or sense that there¡¯s something close¡­ ah.¡±

    There¡¯s a thing standing in the Ghostwood. A weird, blobby, humanoid-shaped thing with no head and a long crevice down its torso. Weird looking, but it doesn¡¯t seem threatening.

    ¡°Is that thing¡­ is there a name for it, Rann?¡± I turn to ask, but¡­

    Rann¡¯s frozen in place. Everybody is, frozen stiff staring at the thing in the Ghostwood. The Chief, Arezza, the kids, everyone.

    Except me.

    The thing takes a step closer with its thick, trunk-like leg. Its footfall makes no sound, nor does it disturb the ashen dust on the forest floor. A chill runs down my spin, making me tense - as my wings only grow more agitated, hanging low to my sides and scuffing the ground around my feet.

    ¡°Ma¡­ ina¡­¡± The Chief barely says, her voice a harsh, pained whisper as I look back at her.

    The thing takes another step closer. I don¡¯t hear it, or see it move closer, but I feel it. My fingertips have grown numb, and my legs are stiff, but not immobile.

    ¡°Do¡­ S¡­¡± The Chief hisses under her breath. She can barely move her lips.

    Do what? I can¡¯t enter the Ghostwood, from what everyone¡¯s said about it. Do I shoo it away? Throw something? What should I do?

    My wing is poking at the rocks on the ground around my feet. Will one of these¡­ ah, whatever. Before it gets any closer.

    I scoop up a pebble from the ground, turning and throwing it at the thing in the Ghostwood. I didn''t even hit it; the rock fell quite short, as I struggled to get my arms in a good enough position to throw it far.

    Still, that¡¯s apparently good enough. The thing seems almost shocked that I threw something at it, before it turns around slowly, disappearing back into the Ghostwood with silent footsteps.

    The second it disappears from view, the spell hanging over everyone ceases, as everyone gasps and jerks as they can suddenly move their bodies again.

    ¡°What¡­ In Falian¡¯s¡­¡± Johnny pants, trying to catch his breath.

    ¡°Whatever it was.¡± The Chief says, stepping forward and holding her staff aloft.

    Rann goes to stop her, but he hardly gets a word out before the air crackles to life. A glowing orb appears and quickly grows at the tip of the Chief¡¯s staff, doubling, tripling, quadrupling in size and illuminating all around it in the warmth of a candle¡¯s flame, until the orb reaches critical mass, flattens to a disc, and a solid beam of light blasts outwards.

    In a flash, a perfectly circular canyon has been blasted some way into the Ghostwood. The ground has a round dip in it where it was struck by the beam, as numerous bisected trees fall from the air, crashing into the ground and throwing up clouds of ash and dust. Whatever that thing was, if it was caught in the Chief¡¯s attack, there¡¯s certainly nothing left of it.

    ¡°It¡¯s no longer a problem.¡± The Chief smiles to herself.

    ¡°Good job, Chief. Really showed it what¡¯s what, if you even hit it. Now can anyone tell me what the hell that thing even was?!¡± Johnny yells in exasperation, having mostly recovered from whatever it did to us.

    ¡°I have no gods-damned idea, Johnny. I¡¯ve never heard of or seen anything like that before. I¡¯ve never seen anything move inside the Ghostwood.¡± Rann says, staring down the canyon the Chief blasted.

    ¡°By the First Queen¡­¡± Arezza says, kneeling down to check on Mole and Rabbit as they stand in front of her. ¡°Are you two alright? Can you move okay?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re fine.¡± Mole says calmly, before turning to look in the Chief¡¯s direction. ¡°Chief of Haven. What did you see in that thing?¡±

    The Chief ponders for a moment.

    ¡°Hunger. Envy. A good deal of cowardice.¡± She answers. ¡°Which is unusual. Most animals rarely display such emotional depth.¡±

    ¡°Hunger, envy, and cowardice¡­¡± Arezza frowns, standing back up. ¡°Those sound like the common traits of a manabeast¡­¡±

    ¡°A mana¡­ You¡¯re familiar with manabeasts, Arezza?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve read, both your world and mine have manabeasts; animals that feed on mana instead of meat or plants. They¡¯re attracted to people with high levels of mana, so that¡¯s likely why it was attracted to our group, given the two prodigious mages present, and perhaps why it can survive in a place like the Ghostwood.¡± Arezza answers, recalling what she¡¯s read. Given her frustration at having so few books in the Capital, she¡¯d be over the moons when she sees Haven¡¯s library.

    ¡°Well, given all the other predatory beasts down here, it¡¯s not unlikely that manabeasts would lurk here too. Evidently, very few talented mages end up down here if none of us have ever heard of one being present in the Abyss before.¡± The Chief sighs, looking out over the Ghostwood again to make sure that thing is either dead or has no will to return.

    ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t attract more of them after casting something flashy like that, Chief?¡± Rann asks, frowning a little.

    ¡°If it does, Marina seems to resist its power more than¡­ us¡­¡± She trails off, turning to look at me.

    She walks up in front of me, scanning me up and down with an inquisitive glint in her eye. She looks down at my wings, still low by my sides, raising an eyebrow slightly. She¡¯s parsing through a lot of questions in her head, evidently, before she looks back up at my face.

    ¡°Could you hold your hand out for a moment, Marina.¡± She asks, smiling more sincerely than usual.

    I comply, holding out my hand. She smiles, pointing with her finger as a tiny beam of light shoots out and hits the back of my hand dead centre.

    ¡°Ow!!¡± I hiss, pulling my hand back. That felt like a shock of electricity and the hot wax of a candle dripping onto my skin simultaneously.

    The Chief calmly reaches out and grabs my hand, inspecting the back of it. There¡¯s no mark, thankfully.

    ¡°Hmm. That should have left a mark. You seem to possess some resistance to magic, Marina.¡± The Chief nods, her curiosity sated.

    ¡°Then how come I¡¯ve been rendered completely helpless every time you¡¯ve bound me up in golden chains?¡±

    ¡°Because that¡¯s using magic in a physical manner, Marina.¡± The Chief sighs lightly, as if correcting a young and headstrong student. ¡°Being resistant to magic doesn¡¯t make a mage throwing a rock at you with earth magic hurt any less.¡±

    ¡°Ya mean that ¡®manabeast¡¯ thingy was usin¡¯ magic on us, Chief? And it was after us cuz of you?¡± Johnny frowns.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the Chief¡¯s fault, Johnny. We didn¡¯t know that thing even existed.¡± Rann comments, giving Johnny a look.

    ¡°Alright, alright. I wasn''t¡¯ blamin¡¯ her, Rann.¡± Johnny shoots back.

    ¡°It¡¯s gone now. It¡¯s been dealt with. Let¡¯s get moving again. With luck, we might make it back in time for dinner.¡± The Chief sighs, picking her pack back up.

    With the commotion with the manabeast sorted, we head south along the edge of the Seeping Wound, considerably more wary of our surroundings than we were before the thing in the Ghostwood. Hopefully, manabeasts like that are only native to the Ghostwood. As we walked, Arezza and the Chief shared what they knew of manabeasts; they tend to avoid other animals, and are rather defenceless against predators. They¡¯re less animal and more a moving, hungry coalescence of mana feeding endlessly to fill its bottomless pit of a stomach. Given the amount of normal predators in the Abyss, it¡¯s unlikely that manabeasts would exist anywhere outside a cursed place like the Ghostwood.

    Manabeasts can take many different forms, to the point that some believe that every individual manabeast is wholly unique from the rest. Many bedtime stories that warn of scary things that¡¯ll come get you if you don¡¯t behave are about manabeasts, and while less common in the Overlands than they are in the Underlands, they¡¯re still a serious threat when they turn up. Some of them are almost indistinguishable from humans, while others are, well, whatever that thing in the Ghostwood was, and the abilities they possess can vary as wildly as their appearances. There¡¯s even tales of people or corpses turning into manabeasts.

    As the afternoon rolled by, it began to rain lightly. It would have been refreshing were the raindrops not heavy and iron-rich, leaving rust-coloured stains on our cloaks and covering us in the stink of old blood. To think, I used to love when it rained like this. It was cool and refreshing, especially welcome on a hot day.

    Now? It just stains everything and leaves a bad smell in the air.

    After hours of stomping through the mud, we finally make it to a narrow dip along the Seeping Wound¡¯s bank, and a small clearing next to it. The crossroads to Haven.

    ¡°This is the route to Haven?¡± Griffin asks, glancing down the numerous pathways east, and the lone path headed west.

    ¡°That it is. Come on, before this rain gets any heavier.¡± Rann says, walking over the shallows of the Wound.

    ¡°But this is so obviously a well-used crossroad¡­ how has no-one ever found Haven?¡± Griffin continues, confused at how obvious the route to Haven is.

    ¡°Jackhorn gave you the answer to that already. Nothing but trees, fire pits, and more trees this way.¡± Rann shrugs.

    We keep moving on to Haven. Our feet hurt, the guys are probably tired from carrying the heavier packs, but none of us are inclined to stop while it¡¯s still raining. Even though we¡¯re in the clear now, we travel the last leg of the journey in silence. The rain hasn¡¯t let up, and it¡¯s only made the ground even harder to cross. Mole and Rabbit are utterly exhausted, to the point that they¡¯re now riding Arshak and Arshiya¡¯s backs respectively, dozing peacefully. I¡¯m not the only one who feels like this return trip has been even more tiresome than usual. Maybe it¡¯s the rain, maybe it¡¯s that thing we encountered. This has been a fruitful endeavour, but by now, I¡¯m pretty sure all of us are going to crawl into bed the second we get home.

    Our moods begin to lift as the forest surrounding us grows more and more familiar. Yes, these bendy, twisted trees are everywhere, but these are our twisted, bendy trees. The ones we always see when travelling to and from Haven. A sign we¡¯re not far from home.

    As we round the final bend up the hill, the surest sign we¡¯re home comes into view before us. The dirty, rough palisade gates of Haven. To anyone else they''d look imposing and hostile, but to us, it¡¯s like looking upon the pearly gates of Heaven.

    We¡¯re home.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine

    ¡°Open the gates!¡± A guard calls from atop the walls.

    With a heave, the wooden gates rumble open, sliding through a channel in the mud as Haven is unveiled before us. We¡¯re tired, dirty, and it¡¯s some time past dinner. We probably look terrible, and we¡¯re accompanied by not one, but four strangers.

    But the small welcoming party waiting for us, including Tiff, Vann, and even Anton, couldn¡¯t be happier to see us.

    ¡°Mia!!¡± Tiff yells, running out to greet the Chief with a hug. ¡°You¡¯ve been gone so long, and you look terrible! Haven¡¯t you taken a bath since you were gone? How did everything¡­ go?¡±

    Tiff, with her grassy green eyes and bright red hair, looks across at the hooded Arezza - with her emerald green eyes and bright red hair.

    ¡°Hi.¡± Tiff blinks, standing before Arezza.

    ¡°Hello¡­¡± Arezza says, looking up and down at the girl before her.

    ¡°That¡¯s a beautifully made wooden mask. Did you carve it yourself?¡± Tiff asks, looking at the wooden mask carved in the shape of a wolf¡¯s face, sitting sideways on Arezza¡¯s head, propped out by her horn under her hood.

    ¡°This? I did, yes. Your dress is the finest piece of clothing I¡¯ve seen in the Abyss. Is that your handiwork?¡± Arezza asks, admiring Tiff¡¯s well-tailored clothes, especially her dark green dress.

    ¡°Yes, I did.¡± Tiff nods.

    The two look at each other for a moment longer, before grinning in unison. They seem to have hit it off with each other. I fear what that may mean for the rest of us.

    ¡°Good to see the lot of you back home in one piece.¡± Vann smiles, leaning against the gate. ¡°I see you¡¯ve brought some guests over, too. Are these the diplomats sent from the fabled Wolf Pups?¡±

    The Chief goes to speak, only to be cut off as Arezza steps forward and, to everyone¡¯s shock, lowers her hood to reveal her pearly white, iridescent horns.

    ¡°I am Arezza Serenitas Apricitas Servikal, sixth daughter of the High Queen, Royal Princess of the Azorii Matarii, and Wolf Queen of the Abyss, honoured to be invited as a guest of the most gracious Chief of Haven, and humbly at your service.¡± She smiles, ending her performance with a well-rehearsed curtsey.

    ¡°Did mine own ears truly hear the words ¡°Royal Princess¡± just now?¡± Anton moves to the front of the welcome party, in the first display of surprise I¡¯ve ever seen from him.

    ¡°Indeed you did, fine sir. Though I apologise for the lack of forewarning, I thank you for welcoming us into your homes for our visit.¡± Arezza nods, giving another royal smile.

    ¡°I- well, after such a long trip you must be famished! I¡¯ll rouse the kitchen staff, we¡¯ll have a feast prepared in no time at all!¡± Anton says, hurrying back up the road towards the tavern.

    I get the niggling worry that Arezza¡¯s doing that thing with her voice again, but the Chief¡¯s comment dispels this notion.

    ¡°You can take the chef out of the royal palace, but you can¡¯t take the royal palace out of the chef¡­¡± She sighs.

    ¡°As long as it means we still get dinner¡­ where are we taking these two?¡± Arshak asks with his sister beside him, the two of them still carrying Mole and Rabbit.

    ¡°Hmm¡­?¡± Rabbit stirs, peering over Arshiya¡¯s shoulder.

    Upon realising where she is, she pats Arshiya¡¯s back to ask her to put her down, running through the gates and taking in the sights around her.

    Haven. The most extraordinary place in the Abyss, in how extremely ordinary it is. A main street with buildings, homes, and shops run by the village craftsmen on either side, with the Last Drop tavern and town hall standing at the far end. Our little slice of normalcy in the abnormal world we were reborn in.

    The rest of our tired party move inside Haven¡¯s walls as the gate groans shut behind us. For those of us from Haven, we¡¯re just glad to be home. For Arezza, Griffin, Rabbit, and Mole, however, this is a place beyond their wildest imaginations.

    ¡°I never, ever, in my strangest dreams, could have thought that¡­¡± Arezza glances around town in disbelief, looking back at us with astonished eyes. ¡°You have houses! A barracks, a tavern, a butcher and baker, a blacksmith, a cobbler, even a tailor!¡±

    ¡°Two tailors, in an official capacity. Tiffany here is a fine seamstress herself, not to mention the children being tutored under said tailors.¡± The Chief clarifies.

    ¡°It¡¯s an adventurer¡¯s town! A real adventurer¡¯s town, Your Majesty!!!¡± Rabbit beams, excitedly running around to take in every sight Haven¡¯s main street has to offer.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to be more descriptive than that, Rabbit.¡± Mole says, hopping off Arshak¡¯s back as he scans around to find Rabbit.

    ¡°Mole!! There¡¯s a big barracks where the soldiers live and train, and a shop with a big shoe hanging in front of it, and a baker next to a butcher¡¯s with big loaves of bread, and all the buildings have two stories!! They¡¯re made with brown wood and white stuff on the walls and roofs made of shingles and at the end of the road there¡¯s a really big tavern with tables and chairs and come on, I¡¯ll tell you more!!¡± Rabbit grabs Mole¡¯s hand, guiding him up the street as she points, well, helps get him to look at each of the buildings as she describes them in as much detail as she can.

    ¡°Come on, you lot. Dump these packs in your quarters and get to the Tavern. Maybe Anton will let us have the scraps of what he¡¯s making for the visiting royal here.¡± Rann chuckles, patting Vann on the shoulder as he passes him. ¡°Thanks for staying out for us, young¡¯in.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t call it a night before I made sure the old man was home and safe now, could I?¡± Vann retorts.

    ¡°Before that.¡± Tiff says, catching up to Mia to stand at the head of our group. ¡°Where are our guests staying, and how long will they be here? I have to make sure we have adequate bedding available.¡±

    ¡°Your house has two spare rooms. I¡¯m sure the kids will be as happy to meet Mole and Rabbit as they were eager to smuggle Crow.¡± The Chief shrugs lightly.

    ¡°And what about this one?¡± Vann asks, resting his hand on Griffin¡¯s shoulder.

    Griffin jumps, recoiling back from the tall man with the giant axe who just touched him. Since he got here, Griffin¡¯s been lurking at the back of the group, his beaked mask looking all over the town, watching for any potential ambushes, the slightest hint that this was all a trap.

    ¡°Doin¡¯ a terrible job of being inconspicuous, ain¡¯t he.¡± Johnny quips.

    ¡°I¡¯m merely doing my duty of ensuring Her Majesty¡¯s safety in this¡­ foreign land.¡± Griffin growls, trying to look imposing, but with the frantic turns of his head, coupled with that wooden beak¡­ he just looks like an inquisitive magpie, not the proud predator he takes his name from.

    ¡°Griffin.¡± Arezza huffs, walking back to take the difficult Red Wolf by the hand. ¡°Don¡¯t be so rude to our hosts. They¡¯ve invited us into their home, it¡¯s the least we can do to be respectful and thankful of their kindness.¡±

    ¡°But, Your Majesty¡ª¡± Griffin tries to retort, only to be dragged along the street by Arezza.

    ¡°No ¡®buts¡¯. Come on, we¡¯re having dinner~¡± She hums as we make our way up the street.

    No matter the time of day or night, it never takes long for word to spread that the Expeditionary team has returned. Haven was almost silent when we returned, but for the shadows gathered around windows, and the hushed murmurs that leaked through the cracks of almost-closed doors. The children, on the other hand, were doing a terrible job of hiding their eavesdropping as they crowded around the corner, barely out of sight as we reached the doors of the Last Drop tavern. Not only had Chief Lichtrufer left Haven for the first time since she was brought here over a decade ago, she had come back with guests. Some thought they were seeing double when they saw another bright red-haired girl walking alongside the Chief besides Tiff, but something else quickly caught their attention.

    The pearly white horns of this red-haired stranger.

    By now it¡¯s impossible to ignore the crowd slowly forming behind us. The barmaids opened the doors as we stepped onto the porch, but the Chief decides it¡¯s best that something be said before we go any further.

    She turns on the spot, facing the crowd and stamping her staff on the ground once to command everyone¡¯s attention. Johnny tries to go past her straight into the Tavern, before Rann grabs him and turns him to face the gathering as well, alongside the rest of us. Mole and Rabbit are standing beside Arezza, as an increasingly nervous Griffin frantically scans the crowd for any danger that may threaten his Queen.

    ¡°Well, since most of you are still up and about, even those that shouldn¡¯t be¡­¡± The Chief gives the gathered children a knowing look, before sighing to herself and continuing. ¡°I apologise for the late hour of our return. I will keep this brief, and there¡¯ll be a proper town meeting tomorrow to cover the details. All that you need to know is that our visit to the Wolf Pups was successful, and we will be hosting several of their members as guests for the next week.¡±

    She gestures across at the three Wolves in our presence, in case it wasn¡¯t clear who our guests were. However, the questions about said guests are less who they are, and more what they are. What she, Arezza, is. Is she another strange, cursed woman with unnatural body parts like me, that some of them keep whispering no matter how much I glare at them?

    ¡°If you¡¯ll allow me, Chief Lichtrufer.¡± Arezza asks with a smile. The Chief gives her nod of approval.

    Arezza steps forward, pulling her cloak back to reveal her pearly white, shimmering royal blue wings to match her horns, lifting her new cloak in a curtsey as she nods her head.

    ¡°People of Haven. I am Arezza Serenitas Apricitas Servikal, sixth daughter of the High Queen, Royal Princess of the Azorii Matarii, and Wolf Queen of the Abyss, and I am honoured to be invited as a guest of the most gracious Chief of Haven. Your Chief proposed to me an alliance, one that would be most beneficial for both our peoples. I look forward to working with you all in the future, for the betterment of our children, and to one day be free of this harsh place once more.¡± She realises she forgot one thing mid-curtsey, so she adds; ¡°Oh, and if you weren¡¯t certain, I am an Azorii, one of the native peoples of Perga which you call the Underlands, hence the horns and the wings. It¡¯s nice to meet you all.¡±

    The inquisitive murmurs erupt into joy, hospitality, and excitement. Not only had the Chief¡¯s trip been successful, but she brought back real royalty! She must truly be a royal with all the jewellery adorning her wings, after all! This does, of course, bring up the same question over and over, related to said wings.

    How did a Royal Princess of whatever the name of the kingdom she said she¡¯s from end up down here in the first place?¡±

    ¡°To answer that question.¡± The Chief clears her voice, as most people quiet down and listen. ¡°How she ended up here is a story for her to tell, but what¡¯s important to know now is that her wing is broken, and it¡¯s left her unable to fly. She has, however, agreed to help teach our other winged friend here.¡±

    The Chief pats me on the back, suddenly singling me out and drawing all the crowd¡¯s attention to me.

    ¡°I have a name, you know.¡± I whisper annoyedly.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to speed through this so we can eat, Marina. Go along with it.¡± She whispers back, before raising her voice to speak to the crowd again. ¡°Now, as has been said, our journey was long and arduous, and some of you are up past your bedtimes. Everything shall be discussed in detail tomorrow. Dismissed.¡±

    The crowd doesn¡¯t really move, though. They¡¯re far too interested in just what happened and who the Chief has brought back to just disperse like that. The Chief, however, has made herself clear, as the clamour starts to grow as she turns to enter the tavern.

    She stops, shooting a glare over the back of her shoulder at the villagers. ¡°Must I repeat myself?¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Come on. We shouldn¡¯t get between the Chief and her evening meal. You heard her.¡± Rann calls, and the crowd finally starts to make their way back to their homes.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for help.¡± The Chief grumbles to Rann, as our tired, hungry crew file into the tavern.

    ¡°They needed some help catching the hint, though.¡± Rann chuckles, in the pebbles-tumbling-about-in-a-metal-tray manner like he always does.

    While our exhaustion has been somewhat relieved now that we¡¯re home, we¡¯re all absolutely starving. Rabbit is practically bouncing off the walls with how excited she is, regardless of her hunger. Mole has been looking all around in every direction since we got here, even when he¡¯s seated at the table as we await our meal, with the tantalising smell of tomatoes and roast meat wafting out from the kitchen.

    Drinks are readily served in tankards so big the kids have to hold them with both hands. There¡¯s a particular juice made from the small, red berries that grow on the bushes in and around Haven; the berries themselves are poisonous, but their juice, when boiled and strained, is perfectly safe to drink. It¡¯s almost unbearably tart to the taste, but when it¡¯s served ice-cold after a long, tedious journey, there¡¯s nothing more refreshing.

    The true prize of Haven, if you ask the adults, lies within the Cellars. There¡¯s a lot of strange plants and fungi down here, but miraculously, one particular type of fungus native to the caves that make up the Cellars functions identically to yeast. It¡¯s how we have bread, but more importantly, it¡¯s how we have alcohol. I¡¯m technically not old enough to order it, and while I don¡¯t think anyone would mind if I did, I¡¯ve never been a fan of alcohol to begin with. At least, I¡¯m certain none of the alcohol on offer here would be to my liking.

    ¡°Griffin.¡± Arezza says, glancing at the masked Griffin sitting next to her.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty?¡± He answers in the cordial manner he always does when speaking to her.

    ¡°You can¡¯t convince me you¡¯re not thirsty. You haven¡¯t touched your drink at all.¡± She pouts playfully.

    ¡°I can drink later. What matters now is your safety, Your Majesty.¡± He answers.

    ¡°Is it now? Well. You seem to have forgotten to check my drink for poison.¡± She shrugs, taking a dainty sip from the giant wooden tankard placed before her.

    ¡°W-wait, Your Majesty!¡± He suddenly realises, but he¡¯s far too late as Arezza puts her drink back down, smiling.

    ¡°We are waiting for dinner too, you know. Do you plan on eating dinner later as well, or are you going to eat through your mask?¡± Arezza grins teasingly.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t worry about that, Your Majesty. I¡¯ll be fine.¡± He tries to shrug her off, but Arezza can sense what¡¯s going through his mind.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, let¡¯s get that mask off~ You¡¯re just as hungry as the rest of us, and it¡¯d be rude to turn down a meal from our hosts!¡± Arezza giggles, leaning over and grabbing his mask as she starts to tug it off him.

    Griffin complains, and struggles against his Queen, just¡­ half-heartedly. He can¡¯t bring himself to do anything that¡¯d even slightly harm her, but for whatever reason, he really doesn¡¯t want his mask¡­ off.

    ¡°Rann.¡± I ask, turning to face him beside me as I point to the unmasked Griffin.

    ¡°Hmm? What about him, Marina?¡± He responds, glancing across at Griffin as he takes another swig from his tankard.

    ¡°I thought Crow said the Red Wolves were all at least eighteen. Griffin looks younger than the twins.¡±

    ¡°I am! Nineteen!!¡± Griffin yells, slamming the table as his cute baby cheeks go red as he flusters. ¡°I¡¯m older than you, apparently, Miss Fifteen-Year-Old!¡±

    ¡°Ooohh, that¡¯s why he wears the mask. Kid¡¯s got a real baby face goin¡¯ there.¡± Johnny nods, as no one¡¯s particularly bothered by Griffin¡¯s outburst.

    ¡°Baby face?! I¡¯ll have your head for that- acck!!¡± Griffin looks like he¡¯s about to leap across the table at Johnny, only for Arezza to grab him around the chest and pull him down into a hug.

    ¡°N¡¯aww, there¡¯s my Widdle Griffin~ My Widdle Griffin with the cutest face of all my widdle Wolf Pups~¡± Arezza giggles, coddling him like a child as he desperately tries to break free from her iron-clad hug.

    The Chief raises an eyebrow, leaning over to sniff Arezza¡¯s tankard as she¡¯s preoccupied with pinning Griffin in a hug. The flare of her nostrils tells that Arezza ordered an alcoholic drink.

    Fortunately for Griffin, the kitchen staff emerged with our long-awaited dinner in hand. Our royal guest has given Anton the perfect reason to use some of the choicest cuts of Bloodbeast that he¡¯d been saving for such an unlikely occasion. Now, he has served us bloodbeast steak before, but it¡¯s apparent even then he didn¡¯t give us the best steaks he had on offer. He had saved the most tender, juiciest, and flavoursome meat he had carved, even if such attention to detail falls by the wayside in the face of our ravenous hunger. There wasn¡¯t much conversation while we ate, as we were too preoccupied with stuffing food in our faces. Freshly baked bread rolls, steak, a thick, tomato-y sauce, roast vegetables, everything you need to glut yourself on before a good night¡¯s sleep.

    Despite our long day, we were in high spirits as we chatted, drank, and ate well into the night. The sky was unusually clear, and the oppressive nighttime darkness had abated for the first time in months. Everything had gone according to the Chief¡¯s plan. We set out to make friends and allies, and here they were, eating, drinking, and laughing beside us. In spite of or perhaps because of her status as royalty, Arezza was no stranger to a night in the tavern. There were few things she loved more than travelling across the land with a couple of her older sisters, and she had many stories to tell. The kitchen staff had joined us in the dining area, Tiff, Vann, and some of the guards snuck in to partake in the merriment, and the barmaids kept the drinks coming until we could drink no more. Even Griffin had lightened up a bit, after he was teased a good while for his extremely youthful features.

    Even the Chief, prideful, confident, and ever-aware of her own appearance and manners, was smiling and laughing. She¡¯d loosened up, just a little. Not necessarily just because of the drinks and the company, but she took pride in how well her plan had gone. Sure, this was the very early stages, and nothing has been officially set up yet. Despite their rocky beginnings, Arezza and the Chief got along well. They had much in common, after all; both were of the upper crust of society, and they both had little tolerance or joy for the stuffy atmosphere that came with it. Arezza just wanted to explore the world, and the Chief just wanted to be left in peace to read her books.

    Although, this made some of their differences more apparent. Arezza still loved her family, and it pained her greatly that despite there being clear evidence that she was still alive, no one had come to rescue her from the Abyss. The Chief had no such love for her own blood relatives, and she never had to deal with them again. Though they had differing reasons, they felt the same on the single most important thing to them: to escape the Abyss. Not on their own, but to help everyone escape here. For the Chief, this idea had always been a bit of a pipe dream. An ideal future that may never come to be. Not anymore, though. Through me, and through Arezza and the Wolf Pups, she has taken two great steps towards that dream, and she¡¯s not going to sit idly by and let such opportunities go to waste.

    It had gotten quite late when our tiredness began to creep back in. One by one, people said their goodbyes and wandered off to go crash in their bed for, ideally, the next twelve to eighteen hours. Vann and the guards returned to their duties, and Rann headed off to turn in for the night, until it was only the Chief, Tiff, our guests from the Capital, and myself in the quiet tavern.

    ¡°Now, about sleeping arrangements for the night. Tiffany has two spare bedrooms that she can lend you for the night, and we can find more suitable accommodations tomorrow. There is only one bed per room, though.¡± The Chief says, having finished off the last drops of what was left in her tankard.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure these two wouldn¡¯t mind sharing a bed with me.¡± Arezza smiles, wrapping her arms around Mole and Rabbit standing either side of her. ¡°Griffin has repeatedly made it clear this evening that he is an adult, so I¡¯m sure he¡¯d prefer having a bed to himself.¡±

    Griffin grunts in reluctant agreement, crossing his arms and huffing.

    ¡°We¡¯re having a sleepover with Her Majesty?¡± Rabbit asks, looking up at Arezza with her big, happy eyes.

    ¡°We are, Rabbit~! And Mole¡¯s joining us too~¡± She grins, giving both of them a gentle squeeze.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s about time we got some sleep. You¡¯ll show them to their rooms, won¡¯t you Tiffany?¡± The Chief says, trying her hardest to prevent herself from yawning.

    ¡°I can, but I think there¡¯s one thing we should show them first~¡± Tiff smiles.

    ¡°There is¡­?¡± The Chief sighs, wanting to crawl into her bed already.

    ¡°The Crystalfall, of course!¡± Tiff says, swinging open the tavern doors and stepping out into the moonlit night.

    ¡°The¡­ very well. It¡¯s rare we have a clear night like this. Come along, Marina. One last thing to do.¡± The Chief relents, heading out the door after Arezza and the Wolf Pups.

    ¡°Do I have to come too¡­?¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen it on a night like tonight. Come on.¡± The Chief frowns. Alright, I¡¯m coming.

    We made our way down Crystal Road. It was a quiet, clear, and still night. A rare moment of calm and peace, as most slept through the night. Step by step, we moved closer to the Crystalfall, as the sound of rushing water began to fill the air, until the mighty waterfall lay before us.

    I¡¯ve seen the Crsytalfall plenty of times before. In this muddy-brown hellhole of a gaping wound in the earth, this is the only place in the Abyss you¡¯ll find the colour blue. It¡¯s the heart of Haven, something we¡¯re thankful for every day, something that¡¯s become normal to us.

    But, the Chief stressed that I hadn¡¯t seen it on a night like tonight, so I came along. I¡¯m glad I heeded her words.

    The tumbling water was so clear and even, you could see a perfect reflection of the white moon high above in its crystalline sheen. The mist that was kicked up in the air shone like stars in the night, nary a few feet away from us. Peering up, you could just barely make out the waterfall¡¯s origin, high on the cliffs above as it came crashing down into the Abyss.

    No. Rushing, tumbling, crashing¡­ these aren¡¯t the right words for it. The water had its own innate peacefulness that such energetic terms didn¡¯t capture. It was loud like any waterfall was, yet it flowed so elegantly and steady, as if it were simply a vertical river, another leg in its peaceful journey down to the ponds and streams that wove around Haven and disappeared beneath the earth. Standing before it, it was calming. The cool mist on your face, the shimmering clean pools¡­

    Yeah. I haven¡¯t seen it on a night like tonight. Neither have our guests.

    ¡°It¡¯s so pretty! There¡¯s so much clean water!!¡± Rabbit beams, running up to the edge of a pool, kneeling down to feel the cool water on her hand.

    ¡°I never thought I¡¯d see something like this again¡­¡± Griffin mutters, awestruck at the sight before him.

    Mole says nothing as he walks forward, stopping by the edge of the pool. He looks up, holding his arms out by his sides as he stands in silence, letting the cool, crisp air flow over him. I don¡¯t know what he can or can¡¯t see in this situation, as a blind soulseer, but the Crystalfall offers more than just a sight to behold. You don¡¯t need to see to hear the falling water, to feel the cool air, the sensation of standing before something much greater than yourself. As I walk up to stand beside him and take in the feelings myself, I catch a glimpse of his face. He¡¯s smiling.

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Arezza says, her voice shaking.

    Some of us turn to look at her, to clearly see her eyes wide in disbelief.

    ¡°Is¡­ something the matter, Arezza?¡± The Chief asks, frowning a little.

    ¡°I know these waters¡­ but it can¡¯t be¡­¡± Arezza winces, trying to find the words to describe it, but the only ones she can come up with is: ¡°Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow¡­¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty¡­?¡± Griffin swoops in to hold his Queen¡¯s arm, making sure she¡¯s okay.

    ¡°Anisphia¡¯s¡­¡± The Chief ponders, trying to think of where she¡¯s read that name before coming to an answer. ¡°Oh! That¡­ no, you can¡¯t mean that Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow, the one sacred to your people, if I¡¯m recalling correctly?¡±

    ¡°It can¡¯t be, though¡­ To drink from it, wash with it, even set foot in it, is to be overcome with the bitter sorrow of the First Servikal, but¡­¡± Arezza trails off, watching Rabbit help Mole step into an ankle-deep pool, as the two children joyfully splash around without a care in the world. She walks up to the shallow pool Rabbit and Mole are playing in, leaning down and, after a moment¡¯s hesitation, dipping her hand in the cool water.

    ¡°But¡­¡± Tiff frowns, looking across at the waterfall. ¡°The Crystalfall is our life. Our clean water. Without it, Haven wouldn¡¯t be here.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, Your Majesty¡­?¡± Griffin asks, trying to put things together to figure out what¡¯s causing his Queen such distress.

    ¡°Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow. It originates from a cave in the Azorii heartland, said to be the sacred resting place of Anisphia Servikal, the first Queen of the Azorii. Despite how pure the water looks, no Azorii touch it and for an outsider to do so is a grave violation, as it¡¯s said that the water are the tears of Anisphia herself, weeping in sorrow over the death of her beloved child at the hands of the Mazorii¡­ What I read said that no one knows where its waters end up, though. It goes from a river, to a stream, and heads east from the Azorii homeland, which is¡­¡± The Chief¡¯s eyes widen as she realises just what this all means.

    ¡°West from here.¡± Arezza finishes, standing back up as she looks down at her wet hand. ¡°I was brought up revering these waters. Their importance to our people is one of the very first things I learned, when I asked my mother about the small river that ran through the grounds of the summer palace. To think, I¡¯d actually find where its final destination lay¡­¡±

    ¡°This is¡­ you mean we¡¯ve been drinking, washing, and bathing with sacred waters? With the most sacred water to a nation not far from here? If this¡­ have all of us committed sacrilege of the highest degree?!¡± The Chief¡¯s panic grows, running through worse and worse scenarios in her head as the ramifications of what this could mean to us if we ever got out of here. This water is sacred to Arezza¡¯s people above all else, and we¡¯ve been using it for, well, every bodily function that requires it.

    A giggle, and then a long, happy laugh from Arezza only throws the Chief even more off.

    ¡°Mia. You said that more than a third of Haven¡¯s people are children, yes?¡± Arezza asks, wiping away her tears.

    ¡°Yes.¡± She answers, clearing her throat and collecting herself. ¡°Due to the nature of the Abyss, Haven has become centred on looking after and raising the children. They¡¯ve become our own, in a sense. Everything we do, we do for them.¡±

    ¡°If Anisphia was as kind and loving as they say¡­ Then nothing could bring her greater joy.¡± Arezza smiles warmly.

    ¡°So¡­ We¡¯re not committing a serious diplomatic faux pas by using the Crystalfall¡¯s water¡­?¡± The Chief says, to make sure we¡¯re in the clear.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s just my opinion. Others may differ. Some may even call for all your heads for such a transgression.¡± Arezza shrugs lightly, before laughing it off. ¡°Not that they could do anything about it down here.¡±

    ¡°Gods¡­¡± The Chief sighs, releasing her tension. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else that needs seeing to, I¡¯m going to turn in for the night.¡±

    ¡°Poor Mia nearly had a fit, Arezza. You really know how to get under her skin.¡± Tiff grins at Arezza.

    ¡°I must admit, she¡¯s a fun one to tease. And please, call me Arza~¡± Arezza grins back.

    With that, we each make our way back to our rooms for the night. With how tired she looks, the Chief might let me get enough sleep for once¡­ oh, Sovranan afternoon naps, how I miss you. The Drachenkoeniger work ethic just isn¡¯t for me¡­

    Not that she had much luck getting me up the next morning. That was the deepest sleep I¡¯ve had in a long, long time.

 Chapter Thirty (Reader Poll + Public Discord Announcement)

    The Last Drop was packed to the rafters with every single resident of Haven. Even the palisade guards had been given permission to leave their posts for this momentous town gathering. The seating was organised so that at each long table sat people from the same groups. The craftsmen, farmers, and kitchen staff sat closest to the tavern¡¯s front door. In the middle sat the expedition team members and the guards, and closest to the bar sat the twenty-four children of Haven, with their schoolteacher Yvonne looking over them. For the first time in its nearly century-long history, Haven had guests. Visitors from another settlement; who were not only friendly, but seeking closer ties via an alliance.

    Though, most of the crowd weren¡¯t all that interested in the alliance part, feeling it was a given. That was something the Chief and the other Council members were there to handle. All the attention in the room was fixated on one person.

    Arezza. Arezza Serenitas Apricitas Servikal. For a long name, it glides off the tongue.

    Sitting to the left of the Chief with a calm smile and her hands on the desk, no doubt using her royal skills to leave a lasting impression on the people of Haven. Her apple-red hair was done up in perfectly neat twintails tied with thin blue ribbons; matching the royal blue bands on her pearly-white iridescent horns that emerged from the sides of her head before curling forward, and then upward, framing her head like a natural tiara. One side of her fringe was tied back in a horizontal braid running back to her horn, while the other she let hang over her right eye.

    Her fair complexion, slightly pink cheeks, her long, dark eyelashes around her enchanting emerald eyes¡­ I know I¡¯ve fallen for her magical charm before, but she is seriously beautiful. What¡¯s more, I¡¯ve yet to see her put on any makeup or even carry such tools on her person, so she may as well be naturally that beautiful. I know she¡¯s said she¡¯s a princess and by appearances alone I have no reason to doubt her, and she has done a good job with helping lead the Wolf Pups, but¡­ I¡­ I need to stop staring at her and thinking about how beautiful she is before anyone notices. Before anyone else notices, given the knowing wink she just gave me. Gods.

    If she had kept her hood and cloak on when she arrived, with her pointed ears and white pupils, she could have easily blended in with the local inhabitants of the Abyss. She even has red hair strikingly similar to Tiff¡¯s. She chose not to do this the minute she arrived. We were potential allies, and she decided that she wouldn¡¯t hide her true nature from us. Her horns were one thing, but her brilliant blue wings were another. As dazzling as they were to see, those that had seen them could tell that something was wrong with her right wing. No limb is supposed to bend like that.

    Even now, her wings rested close by her sides as she sat, almost blending into her blue and white dress. Blue and white were the colours of the Servikal Royal Family, as she told me; the banners of the Azorii Matarii were blue and white, and only Servikals had wings that were blue and white. There was every colour under the sun in her wardrobe when I saw it, but the three outfits the Chief made her choose were all primarily blue and white. It took me a minute to realise she wasn¡¯t wearing the same dress she wore on the trip here yesterday.

    To Arezza¡¯s left sat Griffin, wearing his mask and feathered cloak, trying his best to look calm and collected, even though I can see the constant slight turns and twitches of his head as he nervously scans the entire room for any potential threats hidden in the sea of attention centred on Arezza. To his left again were Mole and Rabbit, seated on stools beside the Council¡¯s table. The children of Haven were interested in meeting their new friends, and it seems Crow had told them about his squadmates Mole and Rabbit during his time in Haven.

    Tiff and Anton were seated to the right of the Chief, while Rann, Vann, and some of the guards kept the crowd in order. As for myself, I was leaning against the back wall close to the Council¡¯s table, where I could see both the crowd and those seated at the table. It¡¯s nice not being the focus of attention, for once, although I do know that the experience of everyone in a room staring at you like you¡¯re an alien isn¡¯t an enjoyable one. Whether she enjoys it or not is something Arezza effortlessly hides behind her smile.

    The Chief stands, and an enraptured silence falls upon the crowd.

    ¡°To make things clear for those who weren¡¯t informed directly last night¡­¡± She begins, clearing her throat as she gestures to those seated to her left. ¡°These are the Wolf Pups, a faction of children situated in the north of the Abyss. After successfully establishing relations with them, four of their number have journeyed to Haven with us to formalise our new alliance. To briefly introduce them, they are Rabbit and Mole, two young scouts of the Wolf Pups, Griffin; one of their captains, and Arezza Serenitas Apriticas Servikal, sixth daughter of the High Queen, Royal Princess of the Azorii Matarii, and Wolf Queen of the Abyss, and the person the majority of you are staring at.¡±

    People murmur to themselves as they look away bashfully, many of them having been called out by the Chief for staring. Staring is rude, after all.

    ¡°Please, if I may, Chief Lichtrufer.¡± Arezza says, rising to her feet as the Chief nods and sits back down.

    ¡°Many of you have questions for me, and it is only fair that I give what answers I have. I am, after all, a stranger to you all. I was born of this world, when all of you were brought to it. This is only my third year in the Abyss, whereas many of you have been here for decades. There are many dangers and threats I am unfamiliar with. Were fortune smiling upon me, I could simply fly out from here, but¡­¡± She gives a slightly pained smile, lifting her broken right wing above the table to finish her sentence; drawing a few sympathetic winces from the crowd.

    ¡°To say I am bereft of fortune, however, would be a grave disservice to those that have helped me. In all honesty, I should have perished from my fall. When I awoke in a dank cave, my head spinning as children fretted over my wounds, my first thought was how strange an afterlife this seemed. It took me a moment before I realised that not only had I survived my fall, I had been rescued, and brought to a safe place where I could recover from my wounds. Were it not for these children¡­¡± She looks across at Griffin, Rabbit, and Mole seated to her left, giggling to herself. ¡°Well, this young man and these children, I wouldn¡¯t be standing here before you.¡±

    ¡°To answer one of the many questions that I¡¯m sure will be asked¡­¡± The Chief speaks up for a moment. ¡°I, and the others that joined me, confirmed with our own eyes. As terrible as it sounds, nearly all the Wolf Pups are children, and the oldest among them aren¡¯t even twenty years of age.¡±

    The elders of Haven exchanged worried looks and shocked gasps at this revelation. The children of Haven, however, are fascinated; it turns out everything Crow told them must be true.

    One of the children, a girl with bright orange hair who is determined to get an answer, holds their hand as high as they can, just as they were taught to do in school.

    The Chief sighs softly, nodding towards the girl. ¡°You may stand and ask your question, Samantha. Any further questions will have to be held for later.¡±

    Samantha stands, directing her question towards Arezza. ¡°Is it true that in your city, you have a big fountain made of white rock that always has plenty of clean water?¡±

    ¡°We do, Samantha. Without that clean water, the Capital wouldn¡¯t be the Capital.¡± Arezza answers.

    This only causes a stir in the older portion of the crowd. A fountain made from white rock from which clean water flows? How?

    ¡°Ah, I should explain. The fountain is something I was able to magic all together. There¡¯s many underground waterways flowing through the Abyss, so I was able to focus one into a fountain I teleported in and purify it, to make it safe for the children of the Capital to drink.¡± Arezza continues, with a happy smile.

    A brief pall of silence hangs in the air, before the crowd erupts in shock, amazement, and even more questions. What does she mean, she ¡°teleported a fountain in¡±? There are waterways under the Abyss? Where is this ¡°Capital¡± she speaks of? You mean that bejewelled staff she carries isn¡¯t just to show her wealth, she can actually use magic? She can purify water? More and more, each question adding onto the last, the cacophony growing louder and louder as control is lost-

    Until, of course, the Chief stands and loudly clears her throat, staff in hand.

    Everyone settles down pretty quickly. She said there¡¯ll be time for questions later, and everyone knows that the Chief doesn¡¯t like repeating herself.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Arezza lets out a wistful sigh, sitting back down with a slight slump before correcting her posture. ¡°They¡¯re all fair questions. I just don¡¯t know where to begin¡­¡±

    ¡°How about we start with how you ended up here.¡± Vann comments. ¡°We¡¯re all stuck down here together, after all. Sounds like your near-death experience wasn¡¯t that far off from our actual-death experiences.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ Well, it¡¯s a little embarrassing when I think about it, aha¡­¡± Arezza laughs awkwardly, even as she winces at her own past actions.

    ¡°We¡¯ve heard worse. Johnny ever tell you how he ended up here?¡± Rann says, leaning against the wall by the window.

    ¡°No, for the last time, we ain¡¯t discussin¡¯ that again! That story has been put to bed for good!¡± Johnny arcs up, sitting up from his usual slouch near the front of the room.

    ¡°How did it go again? Something about not getting his new red socks dirty?¡± Rann raises an eyebrow quizzically, thinking aloud.

    ¡°You leave my socks outta this! It¡¯s a Falian-damned miracle they¡¯ve made it this far! Red¡¯s my lucky colour n¡¯ all!¡± Johnny yells across the room.

    ¡°He¡¯d bought himself the finest pair of the brightest red socks.¡± Vann answers, giving a knowing nod. ¡°Called them his lucky socks. Of course, he nearly got run over by a carriage, which, more importantly, nearly got mud all over his brand new socks, to which he yelled angrily at the carriage driver¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m walkin¡¯ ¡®ere!!!¡± All the kids gleefully yell in unison, followed by giggles and laughs across the room.

    ¡°Noooooo!¡± Johnny groans, gripping his hands over his head to try and ignore the numerous, moderate-to-terrible impersonations of his well-known, Imperial Colony accent.

    ¡°But then, how did Johnny end up¡­ Here?¡± Arezza asks, tilting her head.

    ¡°Oh, that. While he was yelling at the carriage that almost hit him, he got flattened by another.¡± Vann answers.

    ¡°The streets used to be owned by the people, for the people. Then all these rich Old Worlders came over with their fancy carriages and their six horses apiece, and expect you to get outta the way! But ya know what?¡± Johnny lifts one leg up onto the table with a thump, pulling up his pant leg to show his bright red sock. ¡°Still as clean and comfy as the day I bought ¡®em! Not even death could dirty ¡®em! Red¡¯s my lucky colour, as I told ya!¡±

    ¡°You must have no shortage of luck with all the red down here.¡± Rann shrugs to himself, gazing out the window to the red-leaved trees surrounding Haven.

    ¡°Abyss ain¡¯t got the right kinda red. Anyways, Princess. However you ended up down here, these clowns are too busy laughin¡¯ at my run-in with the bigwigs in town to make fun of your reason.¡± Johnny puts his foot back down, tugging his pant leg back down to keep his treasured red sock safe.

    ¡°Well, I certainly didn¡¯t get run over, but in truth all it really was¡­ was a dare, from my older sisters. To explain, although all Azorii have wings, few possess wings big enough and strong enough to fly. As a member of the Servikal Royal Family, I am¡­ was, one of those Azorii that could fly, as could all my sisters. We¡¯d often have races and endurance tests, and though I wasn¡¯t the fastest, I could definitely fly the longest. I was travelling past the Abyss with two of my elder sisters, as there¡¯s a road along the southern edge of the Abyss. My sisters made a bet that I couldn¡¯t fly all the way across the Abyss and back. I took their bet, because one of them had gotten their hands on a rare book and they wouldn¡¯t let me read it at all, and I really wanted to get my hands on it. Problem is¡­¡± Arezza laughs to herself with a look of self-pity in her eyes, before finishing, ¡°No one knows how big the Abyss really is.¡±

    ¡°Truly? I¡¯d read that all the other Sumps had clearly defined sizes and areas of influence, but I couldn¡¯t find any conclusive information on the Abyss itself besides the height of the cliffs that trap us within here. If it took us a little over a day to move from the Dead Hollows in the north to Haven, then¡­ it can¡¯t be further than fifty talars from the centre at Dead Man¡¯s Dream to the cliffs¡­¡± The Chief furrows her brow, trying to map out the Abyss in her head.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    A talar is a kilometre; is how I came to understand the units of measurement in this¡­ these worlds. Although people use inches, feet, yards, miles, ounces, pounds, and other such units on a daily basis¡ªa system called the Old Measurements¡ªsince its inception, the Giornovan Empire has used a standardised system of measurements called the New Measurements that has also found widespread use in the Underlands. It¡¯s roughly equivalent to the metric system, and is better at precise calculations than the Old system, but the Old Measurements still see use for their convenience in rough estimates at a glance.

    Though, I remember when my father told me there was more to that story. The Old Measurements were sometimes called the Axelian Measurements, named for the God of Peace, and the story goes it was a gift from him to a world riven by countless different conflicting measurement systems. However, Juno, the Goddess of Order, found the Axelian system too disorderly for her liking, and implemented the Junian Measurements, otherwise known as the New Measurements. I always wondered how much influence the gods really had on our world, if they gave us languages and measurement systems that we use every day.

    ¡°The east is the closest edge to the centre of the Abyss. North, south, west; they all stretch far further out.¡± Rann speaks up, correcting the Chief¡¯s answer.

    ¡°I took flight. From the edge where I stood, it looked like I could see the other side. Flying halfway across would be easy. Yet, the longer I flew, the further away the far side looked, and the further the southern ledge I took off from reached into the distance behind me. I kept going. The middle can¡¯t have been that far, even though I¡¯d long since lost sight of my sisters or our carriage. I kept going, even as my wings began to hurt and my heart was pounding in my chest. I just kept going, and going, and going, until¡­ I felt something in me give out, and I fell. I don¡¯t know how high I was, or how far I fell, or where I landed. The next thing I knew was that I woke up under the care of the Wolf Pups, and I¡¯d be with them for the next three years after that to this day.¡± Arezza gave a small smile to the three Pups by her side.

    Arezza did mutter something about how she ended up down here when we first met her, but now that everyone¡¯s heard the full story, there¡¯s one question on everyone¡¯s minds. If Arezza truly is royalty, then¡­

    ¡°I suppose that begs the question.¡± Anton speaks, clearing his voice as he turns to Arezza across the table. ¡°I see no reason to doubt your claims of royalty, unfamiliar as I am with your realm. But then, why hasn¡¯t a princess been rescued in all this time? Are your people even aware you¡¯re alive?¡±

    Arezza does not give a spoken answer. She stands calmly, taking her white staff in hand. While Mia¡¯s staff certainly isn¡¯t crude in any way, it¡¯s fashioned from the soft red timber of one of the common trees of the Abyss, decorated with whatever strips of gold she could find, with a smoothed branch on the otherwise gnarled head curving slightly outwards, for hanging a lantern from at night. Wood wasn¡¯t her preferred primary material for a staff, but any self-respecting mage is capable of fashioning a magical conduit from whatever¡¯s available in a situation such as this, and hers was a fine staff indeed.

    Arezza¡¯s staff¡­ I can¡¯t tell if that¡¯s a giant ruby, or a garnet, or some other red gemstone entirely, but it¡¯s so big and so perfectly round and faceted that it looks like it costs more than my family¡¯s entire estate and every instrument we¡¯ve ever made, combined. The body of the staff is made from snow-white wood; at least, while it has the appearance of wood, I¡¯ve never seen iridescent wood that¡¯s almost identical to the pearly white sheen of her horns. The shaft is perfectly straight from end to end, stretching outwards to wrap around the large gemstone at the head with a criss-cross lattice pattern that must have taken months of painstaking work. It¡¯s simple and elegant while also being incredibly extravagant in its perfection.

    Side by side, it makes Mia¡¯s staff¡­ look like a stick with bits of metal cobbled together to resemble a staff. Not that that¡¯s Mia¡¯s fault, in any way. Apparently, her staff as a Sage of the Order of the Golden Light was made of pure gold and was a relic dating back to the Order¡¯s founding. Unfortunately for her, but fortunately for the Order, it didn¡¯t come with her to the afterlife.

    A warm light filling the gemstone atop Arezza¡¯s staff pulls me back to reality. She mumbles something in an intelligible language, holding her hand outstretched as thin beams of light begin to form in it¡­

    And with a brief flash, a white, frilly throw pillow appears in her hand.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been summoning personal objects, furniture, even entire walls from my rooms in the palace for the past three years. They have to know I¡¯m alive when it¡¯s my things that keep vanishing into thin air.¡± She sighs, setting the throw pillow down on the table in front of her as she takes her seat.

    ¡°Then¡­¡± Anton blinks, peering at the throw pillow placed atop the table that appeared out of thin air. ¡°If they have evidence you¡¯re alive, why hasn¡¯t help come in so long?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s partly as I said before. Few Azorii can fly, and fewer still can fly as well as I can. Now, as a Royal Princess, I wouldn¡¯t have any issue getting help from my kin blessed with the strength to fly, but, unfortunately¡­¡± She looks down at the throw pillow as the colour drains from her face. ¡°This is the Abyss. Flying down here is a death sentence. Nobody wants to do it, not even to save a princess.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty¡­¡± Griffin says, holding Arezza¡¯s hand. His impassive mask may hide his concern, but he can¡¯t hide it in his voice.

    ¡°I mean, honestly!¡± Arezza sighs, crossing her arms as she perks back up. ¡°I¡¯m literally a Royal Princess trapped in a terrible place full of monsters and danger. You¡¯d think every explorer and adventurer in Perga would be falling over themselves to come rescue me.¡±

    A few chuckles in the room help lighten the mood. It says something of her character that she can make light of what is objectively a horrible situation. Perhaps the only thing worse than being trapped and waiting for someone to save you, is knowing there¡¯s no one coming to save you.

    ¡°I take it there¡¯s no settlements anywhere near the edge of the Abyss where a rescue could be organised from, either.¡± Rann comments.

    ¡°No. The only sign of civilisation near the Abyss is the road that passes its southern edge. Technically, the southern edge is in the fallen realm of the Horse-Lords, the western edge is in the territory of the Azorii Matarii, while the northeastern side borders on the Pine Kings. Not that anyone is particularly interested in laying claim to this place, let alone live near it. With the exception of the Pine Kings, there¡¯s nothing but flat, empty grasslands on all sides.¡± Arezza says, recalling the surrounding geopolitical situation.

    ¡°What of the man that founded Haven? That built the crane that brought materials down and people up?¡± The Chief asks, hoping Arezza might have an answer if she¡¯s so knowledgeable of the surroundings beyond the Abyss.

    ¡°The¡­ Ah. I remember reading about that in passing, but it was little more than a footnote mentioning a small town was built to support the rescue of people from the Abyss. It didn¡¯t speak of its fate¡­ nor do I know of any settlements situated right on the edge of the Abyss.¡± Arezza answers.

    Arshiya, seated near the front of the room by the children, raises her hand to ask a question.

    ¡°We¡¯re not¡­¡± The Chief sighs lightly, rubbing her temple. ¡°Unless there¡¯s anything more you want to say, Arezza, I suppose we can go to questions now. Rann and I have already asked ours.¡±

    ¡°There is, but I can take Arshiya¡¯s question.¡± Arezza smiles.

    ¡°Is it true no-one in the Underlands has feathered wings like Marina does?¡± Arshiya asks, lowering her hand.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Arezza looks across at me leaning against the wall, as do most of the crowd. Knowing they¡¯re the centre of attention, my wings politely flap out from under my cloak to show themselves in all their feathered glory.

    ¡°None that I¡¯ve ever heard of, actually.¡± She continues, looking my wings up and down. ¡°All Azorii have wings, not that most of us can fly. The Draaf have wings, and all of them can fly, and supposedly, even some Vashoran can sprout wings and fly. All those wings, though, are like my own; featherless, flexible, and smooth. Feathered wings are the domain of birds and birds alone. I¡¯d say that would make Miss Marina Retali here a bird, but birds don¡¯t hide swords in their wings like she does.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m just a human with wings. Just because they¡¯re feathered doesn¡¯t make me a bird.¡± I frown.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t disregard that so soon, Marina Retali. Your voice has a most pleasant cadence, and under the right teacher, it may just put even the most musical songbirds to shame. Even your name has a charming melody to it~¡± Arezza gives a teasing smile. I shrink back against the wall a little out of embarrassment at such effusive praise. She hasn¡¯t even heard me sing, not that I¡¯m a bad singer by any stretch. It would be a terrible tragedy if a child of the Retali family was born tone-deaf.

    ¡°That reminds me of one part of the agreement between Haven¡¯s people and my Wolves.¡± Arezza speaks to the crowd, rising to her feet once more. ¡°It¡¯s a small part, but as perhaps the only other winged individual in the Abyss with flight experience, I will be teaching Marina how to make better use of her wings¡ªwith the hope that, one day soon enough, she¡¯ll be able to fly on her own. Her wings are certainly big and strong enough to accomplish such a feat.¡±

    ¡°Then, we should cover the main topic of this meeting.¡± The Chief rises beside Arezza, clearing her throat. ¡°The terms of an alliance between Haven, and the Wolf Pups. Arezza, if you may.¡±

    Every person in the room not seated at the council¡¯s table leans forward. This is what they¡¯ve been waiting for.

    ¡°First, to cover the situation of my Wolves. Our primary settlement is the Capital, a series of tunnels excavated beneath the forested region known as the Dead Hollows. The Hollows are too dangerous for most large groups to cross, thus it provides the Capital with excellent security, being situated near the forest¡¯s southern edge, closer to the Abyss¡¯ centre. Numerous outposts form a loose ring around the Abyss¡¯ centre, keeping a watchful eye out for the movements of other groups, and for any lost children. As I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all aware¡­ the only new arrivals in the Abyss for the past two decades have all been children.¡± Arezza sighs quietly, before continuing. It¡¯s always in the back of our minds, but it¡¯s a sombre thing to say out loud. ¡°Including myself, there are fifty-seven Wolves. The older Wolves are stationed at these outposts, and help rescue and care for those too young to look after themselves. Rescued children are always brought to the nearest outpost, then they move from one to another until they reach the safety of the Capital. Currently¡­ we¡¯re rescuing at least two children every month.¡±

    ¡°How long has this operation been going, if the Chief doesn¡¯t mind me asking?¡± Rann says.

    ¡°Our proper rescue operations began about a year after we found Her Majesty. So¡­ two years, at least.¡± Griffin answers for his Queen.

    ¡°Hmm. That tracks. Marina¡¯s the first person we¡¯ve found in nearly two years. Now we know where the kids have been going.¡± He nods. A few sighs of relief go through the crowd. Nearly every adult in Haven feels some degree of responsibility for looking after the children that end up in a place as terrible as this; a place no child should ever end up in. At least, now we know some of them have been brought to safety.

    ¡°To finish on our current situation, while clean water and shelter are plentiful, there are other issues looming on the horizon. Food, clothes, and equipment. We have little in the way of tools, material, and knowledge to make new clothes, and while there is plenty of food to forage beneath the boughs of the Hollows, foraging alone will not sustain us for much longer, certainly not if our numbers continue to grow. Which will not stop. It will not stop¡­ as long as more and more children end up down here.¡± Arezza finishes, sitting back down and taking a deep breath.

    The future for the Wolf Pups, as is, looks bleak. There¡¯s no sign that the number of people reincarnated here, or the fact that only children are reincarnated here, is ever going to stop. And we can¡¯t just¡­ leave them to fend for themselves.

    ¡°Which is why, under the terms of our new alliance, children found and rescued by the Wolf Pups will be brought to Haven, to be raised in safety as our own.¡± The Chief speaks. There¡¯s a few murmurs and nods of agreement. It¡¯s a given, really.

    ¡°This does mean some things will have to change to accommodate this. At bare minimum¡­ we¡¯ll be needing more desks for the schoolhouse.¡± The Chief gives a small smile. ¡°That¡¯s just the beginning, though. New clothes, new beds, an expansion of the bunkhouse, or ideally, a second bunkhouse. There¡¯s still plenty of room along Crystal Road for more buildings. We won¡¯t be undertaking this expansion alone, either. Numerous Wolf Pups will be joining us here not only to live, but to work alongside us. While the majority of the older Wolves will remain at the Capital or at the various outposts to keep an eye out for lost children, some would like to help via living in Haven itself and helping with the day to day needs of our settlement.¡±

    ¡°Well, clothes are something we¡¯ll have to take measurements for, but you needn¡¯t worry about new desks. We¡¯ve been hard at work on those.¡± Tiff says, looking past Anton to the Chief.

    ¡°You have? We only returned last night.¡± The Chief asks, turning to Tiff.

    ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, Chief.¡± A man from the rightmost table stands, holding his arms behind his back; the sawdust coating his shoulders hints at his occupation. ¡°We figured, after the ordeal with Crow, that we might be getting some newcomers to Haven soon. So me, my apprentices, and a couple o¡¯ the guards¡¯ve been puttin¡¯ some new school desks together. We¡¯ve got half a dozen finished ones sitting in the storeroom, with another half a dozen more underway.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ remarkably good time, given we were gone only a few days.¡± The Chief blinks in surprise.

    ¡°Once the desks are finished, they¡¯ll be starting on the new beds, of which the bedsheets are already finished and waiting.¡± Tiff smiles proudly.

    ¡°Though we will have more mouths to feed, the fertiliser made from the remains of the carrion hawk has been working wonders on the farming plots. By our next harvest, I¡¯m expecting to see 47% greater yields than our last. Even excluding hunting and foraging trips, we¡¯d have more than enough to feed ourselves and provide for our new allies.¡± Anton adds, nodding thoughtfully.

    ¡°You¡­ you¡¯ve already done all this for us? Before you even met us?¡± Arezza says in almost disbelief.

    ¡°Of course we have. Why wouldn¡¯t we? We want the same thing you want.¡± Vann answers. ¡°You may have fallen in here while the rest of us woke up here, but as far as I care, a near-death experience is more than close enough to the real thing. You¡¯re stuck down here just like the rest of us, and you chose to help. That makes you one of us.¡±

    ¡°H-honestly¡­¡± Arezza looks like she¡¯s about to well up, before quickly clearing her throat and regaining her composure. ¡°Ahem. Truthfully, I can¡¯t thank all of you enough for welcoming us with open arms. I don¡¯t intend to idly sit by while you help us all, either. I¡¯ll do whatever I can to repay this kindness of yours. I will be staying in Haven for the next several days before I return to my Wolf Pups with the good news. Until then, I look forward to getting to know everyone.¡±

    A hand amongst the seated children shoots up, sensing the opportunity as Arezza finishes speaking. ¡°Chief Lichtrufer! Is it question time now!¡±

    The Chief looks across at Arezza, who smiles and gives her a nod. ¡°I suppose so. Just make sure to behave properly when asking questions-¡±

    Before she finishes, dozens more hands are raised, not only amongst the children, but many among the adults as well, playing along with the children.

    ¡°All of you?!¡± The Chief exclaims in shock, as a few people laugh at her reaction. She sighs lightly, smiling to herself before turning to the left of the room. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start from the left. Who¡¯s first?¡±

 Chapter Thirty-One

    ¡°Gods¡­¡± The Chief slumps over her desk in the Councillor¡¯s office, burying her face in her arms. ¡°Nearly five hours of questions. To think I had to limit it to three questions each¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t mind one bit.¡± Arezza smiles, sitting across from the Chief and still looking as beautiful as ever, even after an hours-long interrogation session. ¡°It¡¯s natural they¡¯d have so many questions for one like myself. I am, after all, a very interesting individual~¡±

    We were all a bit exhausted, even if it didn¡¯t show in some of us. Nearly everyone in the room had questions they wanted to ask. About Arezza personally, about her family, the nation she came from, her people, and the wider world beyond the confines of the Abyss. Despite her young age, Arezza was well-travelled, and had many stories to tell. She¡¯d seen Crimsonsky, the largest city in all of Perga, ate at the finest restaurants in the great ogre city of Granbouche, travelled across the Golden Dunes and seen the magnificent splendour of Avise. Her fellow Azorii, the large ogres who resembled humans more closely than any other Pergan race; the woolly Aren, the bovine Urmos, the vampiric Vashoran, the elusive fox-tailed Fencs, and of course, other Damned. The Chief¡¯s books were true, in that Damned from other places can look very different to us. Arezza had met a talking cat, that was once a human transformed when they were reborn in this world.

    In truth, it only went for nearly five hours because that¡¯s when the Chief decided enough questions had been asked for one day. She was getting a bit tired of having to calm down the room when people got overly excited as to not overwhelm Arezza; not that Arezza seemed to mind. She answered every question calmly and succinctly. Still, it was starting to get late in the afternoon, and there were other things that needed doing. The tavern had been cleared out for now, and now most of the Council, myself, and our guests from the Wolf Pups were in the office above the tavern to recuperate for a moment. Only Vann had left to get back to his active duties.

    ¡°You¡¯re certainly more well-travelled than most of us.¡± Rann comments. ¡°Or certainly more imaginative, at least. I can¡¯t imagine people willingly living in the shadow of a castle that casts a red light on the clouds.¡±

    ¡°I did not fancify or embellish a single thing I said! If you don¡¯t believe me, then I¡¯ll just have to take you to those places one day.¡± Arezza huffs, pouting at Rann.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen more than enough sights in my life. I¡¯m sure the youngin¡¯s would enjoy that trip more than I would.¡± He chuckles.

    ¡°I¡¯m not certain about seeing all those sights, but the bakeries and kitchens of the capital of your Queendom sounds like a worthy destination. To think one nation would import more than half the continent¡¯s sugar¡­¡± Anton muses to himself.

    ¡°I never thought I would miss the powdered sugar of those rosewater jellies they made in the palace¡­ I never quite liked them, but now I miss them more than anything¡­¡± Arezza sighs, slumping over in a similar manner to the Chief.

    ¡°Ahem¡­¡± The Chief clears her throat, sitting back up and correcting her posture. ¡°Thank you for being so thorough in your answers about the wider world, Arezza. There¡¯s certainly a few corrections I need to make in the margins of some of the history books in my library.¡±

    ¡°I wonder what people native to Perga would think of me if they saw me if I¡¯m really the only person you¡¯ve ever heard of with feathered wings.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d advise some caution if you ever visit my homeland, Marina. I¡¯m certain there¡¯s a few nobles who¡¯d give you anything and everything you could ever dream of just to get you in their harem. The only person in all of Perga with feathered wings¡­ It¡¯d certainly be something to boast about.¡± Arezza peeks up at me.

    ¡°... You wouldn¡¯t happen to be one of those nobles yourself, would you?¡±

    Arezza just grins. I gulp.

    ¡°No one is buying Marina. Certainly not on my watch.¡± The Chief frowns.

    ¡°You say that like you own me, Chief¡­¡±

    ¡°... Well.¡± The Chief pauses, seriously considering it for a moment.

    ¡°Ch-Chief?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m kidding, Marina. What have I told you before about how easy you are to tease? It leaves you vulnerable to people like her.¡± She shoots a glare at Arezza.

    Arezza just gives her most innocent smile in response.

    ¡°What are they talking about, Mole? Why is Marina blushing so much?¡± Rabbit asks Mole, the two children sitting side by side at Tiff¡¯s desk.

    ¡°Things adults think they can hide from children by obscuring their words.¡± Mole answers bluntly.

    ¡°You¡¯re not being fair on Rabbit, Mole. Not everyone can read people as well as you.¡± Tiff leans down behind the two children, hugging each of them as she whispers in their pointed ears. ¡°And some people aren¡¯t as good as hiding things as they think they are~¡±

    ¡°I know exactly who that statement is made towards, Tiff, and I reject it.¡± The Chief chides, glancing in Tiff¡¯s direction. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve gotten acquainted with our guests.¡±

    ¡°How could I not? I hosted them in my own home! Why wouldn¡¯t I get to know such interesting people?¡± Tiff pouts.

    ¡°Tiff was indeed a most gracious host last night. She tucked each of us in and kissed us goodnight, and what a blissful night¡¯s sleep it was~¡± Arezza chimes in.

    ¡°She what? And since when do you call her Tiff?¡± The Chief turns back, frowning.

    ¡°Since I started calling her Arza.¡± Tiff preens over her newfound friendships. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d find another soulseer in the Abyss, though! Nor did I¡­¡±

    Tiff pauses as she looks down at Rabbit. Rabbit¡¯s clothes have caught her attention, and she kneels down in front of her, running her hands along her arms as she closely inspects Rabbit¡¯s clothes.

    ¡°The stitching¡­ and what kind of fabric is this? I¡¯ve never felt something like this before¡­ It¡¯s not linen, but it¡¯s not cotton or silk, either¡­ Ah?¡± Something inside the back of Rabbit¡¯s shirt near the collar catches her attention, pulling it up to take a closer look. ¡°A tab sticking out, with¡­ what language is written on this?¡±

    Rabbit peers back, tugging her shirt around a bit to read what it says. ¡°It says¡­ fifty percent cotton, fifty percent poly¡­ polyester, I think!¡± She confidently answers.

    ¡°Polyester?¡± I blink. Polyester. Where have I heard that word before? Poly¡­ oh.

    As in, the modern fabric that¡¯s made from petroleum?

    Polyester isn¡¯t a word I¡¯ve heard in a long time. Neither is petroleum, but that came to mind along with polyester. It¡¯s not a material I¡¯ve seen or felt in a long time, either. It¡¯s not something the Overlands in my time had, but apparently they do in Rabbit¡¯s time. Does this mean that the Overlands develops products from oil at some point in the future? They just so happen to call this material polyester? Just how far into the future is Rabbit from?

    ¡°You recognise that word?¡± Tiff looks back at me, surprised.

    ¡°I¡­ I thought it sounded familiar, but after saying it out loud it doesn¡¯t make any sense, just¡­ Rabbit, what was the year you remember it being before you came to the Abyss? The number of the year?¡±

    ¡°It began with a two! Two¡­ oh! Twenty-something! It began with a twenty, and had two more numbers after that!¡± Rabbit nods, only for her smile to fade as she tries to recall the year in more detail than that. ¡°I can¡¯t remember the other two numbers after the twenty¡­ I remember seeing it when I was going to a faire with my parents¡­¡±

    The year began with a twenty¡­ so the twenty-first century. 1541, the year I died, was the sixteenth century. Rabbit¡¯s from 500 years, or maybe even more into the future. A time that, in another life, would be called the ¡°modern day¡±. What would the modern-day Overlands be like? If they have polyester clothing, then they must have advanced oil refining and everything that goes with that. Combustion engines? Cars? Electricity?

    Of course, it¡¯s hard for me to just¡­ ask things like that. I¡¯m not supposed to know what the word polyester even means. It took me a moment to actually remember what it means, after all.

    That was two lifetimes ago.

    ¡°Did your parents buy these for you, Rabbit?¡± Tiff asks, holding Rabbit¡¯s small hands in her own, her words snapping me back to my current reality.

    ¡°They did! They¡¯re adventurer¡¯s clothes! I got these for my birthday!!¡± Rabbit beams.

    ¡°They¡¯re wonderfully well-made! Your parents had an eye for quality.¡± Tiff nods, patting Rabbit¡¯s shoulders.

    ¡°... You¡¯re kind.¡± Mole mumbles, looking in Tiff¡¯s direction.

    Tiff turns to Mole with a smile. ¡°Thank you, Mole. You know, the Chief used to be a lot more direct with what she saw in people.¡±

    ¡°What exactly do you mean by that, Tiffany?¡± The Chief frowns, crossing her arms.

    Rann starts chuckling to himself, which just worsen¡¯s the Chief¡¯s disposition.

    Tiff stands, clearing her throat as she walks into the centre of the room with all eyes on her. She pouts, turning to point at Rann with her hand on her hip.

    ¡°You took more bread rolls than you were allowed to! You said we get one each!! You can¡¯t hide it from me!¡± She accuses, in a higher-pitched voice that sounds remarkably like what I imagine a younger Mia would sound like.

    ¡°Haha!¡± Rann laughs. ¡°You¡¯ve got that down perfectly, Tiff.¡±

    ¡°Sh-she does not!! I did not sound like that!¡± The Chief retorts as we all giggle at her expense. Even Anton smiles to himself. I saw it with my own eyes. Anton can smile!

    ¡°You see this!¡± Tiff dramatically points at her left eye. ¡°This means I¡¯m a soulseer! I can read you like a book!¡±

    ¡°I see it¡­ I really see it!¡± Arezza giggles, nearly falling backwards off her chair.

    ¡°What do you mean you see it?! You didn¡¯t even- agh, forget it!¡± The Chief throws her hands up in defeat, sitting back down in her chair with a huff.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m only lightening the mood, Mia~ We spent so long answering questions it¡¯s nearly time for dinner!¡± Tiff giggles.

    ¡°Indeed it is.¡± Anton stands, adjusting his shirt as he glances at the clock, then heading out the door back down towards the stairs.

    ¡°... You have a clock? How?!¡± Arezza notices the clock on the office wall, hanging above the doorway, standing up to get a closer look at it.

    ¡°We have four of them, all still in working order. They were brought down here when Haven was founded.¡± The Chief answers, standing from her desk and gathering the scattered bits of paper into a neat pile. ¡°I should get some work done myself before dinner. Marina, Tiff, I can trust you to look after our guests for a while?¡±

    ¡°Of course we can! Can¡¯t we, Marina?¡± Tiff turns to me, and I nod in agreement.

    ¡°Good. In that case, I¡¯ll see you all at dinner.¡± Mia leaves the room, holding her head high in her usual proud manner.

    ¡°What kind of work would she have to do now¡­?¡± Arezza asks after the Chief has left, tilting her head.

    ¡°Ah, she just needs some time alone. She can only handle a rowdy audience for so long before it starts to wear her down. Give her a while to herself.¡± Rann answers, looking out the window beside him.

    ¡°You can tell that?¡± Mole looks across in Rann¡¯s direction.

    ¡°Well. You¡¯re an even better soulseer than her. What do you see?¡± He responds.

    ¡°Worries. Stress. Nerves. They come and go quickly. She thinks very fast. It looks¡­ tiring.¡± Mole lowers his head in an apparent frown.

    ¡°That¡¯s our Chief, alright.¡± Rann briefly smiles to himself. ¡°Well. Dinner¡¯s in an hour or so, so you¡¯re all free to do what you want.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Can we go see the waterfall again? Mole, do you want to go to the waterfall?¡± Rabbit excitedly jumps to her feet, taking Mole by the hand who follows along with her antics.

    ¡°Of course we can take you to the Crystalfall!¡± Tiff smiles, then turns her attention to a particular corner in the room. ¡°Would the young man who¡¯s been brooding in the corner all this time like to come with us?¡±

    ¡°Wh¡­¡± Griffin, who has been brooding silently in the corner all this, suddenly jerks upright as if he was asleep this whole time. ¡°Well¡­ if Her Majesty wants to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to in a minute! You three can go ahead with Tiff. I just need a little more rest before I stand again¡­¡± Arezza sighs lightly as she lays over the desk.

    ¡°Okay!! We¡¯ll scout ahead to make sure it¡¯s safe, Your Majesty!¡± Rabbit gives an adorable little salute, before leading Mole to the door, with Tiff following out after them, while Griffin seems intent on staying in the corner.

    ¡°Griffin.¡± Arezza pouts a little. ¡°Go with Rabbit and Mole. I¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m staying here to keep you safe, your Majesty.¡± Griffin curtly but politely replies.

    ¡°And I trust you to keep them safe. Look after them for me, okay?¡± She says, but Griffin¡¯s still reluctant to go.

    It takes Rann walking up beside him and nodding towards the door for Griffin to finally go along with the others, with Rann following out behind him.

    Now, it¡¯s just Arezza and I alone in the room. There¡¯s finally a chair for me to sit down on, across from Arezza, who¡¯s got her head buried in her arms on the desk.

    ¡°Were you¡­ questioned as much as I was when you first arrived here, Marina?¡± Arezza asks, her voice betraying her weariness for a brief moment. She¡¯s been talking for nearly five hours straight, and that would do a number on anyone.

    ¡°Well¡­ In a way, but it was mostly questions asked by the five Council members. I wasn¡¯t interrogated by the whole town. Most of them didn¡¯t trust me, or even know what I was.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± She sits up, looking into my eyes with her own dazzling emeralds. Dazzling emerald¡­ I don¡¯t know where or how these descriptors pop into my head when I look at her, but I feel like I should just get used to it. She frowns a little as she looks me up and down. ¡°Your appearance may startle someone unfamiliar with the Damned of the Abyss, but that shouldn¡¯t be a problem down here.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± I sigh, glancing back over my shoulder as my wings sheepishly crawl out from beneath my cloak. The Damned of the Abyss can look a little frightening. Pointed ears, white pupils, often with red eyes, and black or red hair. I have all these traits. What isn¡¯t common¡­ or even heard of, are you, wings. You¡¯re what got me in trouble when I first got here.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Ah¡­ Aran, was it? The boy whose face you scarred. Having seen them myself, I must say that they actually make him look quite fetching. Who doesn¡¯t like someone with a few scars to show off?¡± Arezza smiles, somehow making me feel better about myself. At least, I don¡¯t think Aran holds it against me anymore. It got him compliments from a princess earlier. What¡¯s a little pain in the face of such gratification?

    ¡°It didn¡¯t earn me any friends in the short term. Most people shied away from me at first. But, little by little, with the help of the Chief, Rann, Tiff, and all the others, I made my place in Haven. It¡¯s¡­ in a way, it¡¯s not all that different from my former life.¡±

    ¡°Even though you¡¯ve been separated from your family¡­?¡± Her brow furrows in concern.

    ¡°Nearly everyone down here¡¯s been separated from their family, including you. I¡¯m not exceptional in that regard. At least you know where your family is.¡±

    Arezza quietly looks down at her clasped hands, having no response. I said that too harshly¡­

    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean that last part¡­¡±

    ¡°The fault lies with me, Marina. I shouldn¡¯t presume such things. Besides, everyone¡¯s probably wondering what¡¯s taking so long. We should get moving before Griffin gets jealous.¡± Arezza eases the tension in the room with a smile, standing and adjusting her dress before heading to the door.

    ¡°What would Griffin get jealous over?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know, the kind of things young men get themselves worked up over. Come along~¡± She grins, taking me by the arm and leading me out the room.

    ¡°W-what things? What are you implying?!¡±

    Everyone has their own preconceptions about what the afterlife would be like, but I¡¯m sure exactly none of them include being dragged around by red-haired girls with twintails and deceptively strong arms. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s better or worse that Arezza can still strongarm me around while holding my arm in hers the way a proper lady should. No offence to Tiff, of course, she just probably didn¡¯t grow up rehearsing such practices. I¡¯m starting to wonder who would win an arm wrestle between these two.

    Fortunately, the tavern hall has all but emptied, as people rush around town trying to do what¡¯s needed after so many hours were spent asking Arezza questions. The enticing aroma of tomatoes is beginning to waft out of the kitchen, and I hear Anton¡¯s voice calling out what needs to be prepared for the upcoming dinner rush as Arezza leads me out the tavern doors, and down the road towards the Crystalfall.

    ¡°E-excuse me!¡± A young male voice calls out from behind us, just outside the Chief¡¯s library.

    Arezza and I look back, to see a young boy with very short brown hair and bright red eyes, a taller girl with red-tinged black hair tied back in a ponytail, and a nervous, shorter girl clinging to the taller girl, with sandy-blonde hair and pale red eyes, that¡­ I recognise these three. I can¡¯t recall their names, though.

    ¡°Yes?¡± Arezza lets go of my arm, smiling warmly as she leans down in front of the children. ¡°Is there anything we can help you with? Any more questions you¡¯d like to ask before the Chief decided three questions each was enough~?¡±

    ¡°Y-y¡­¡± The boy stumbles over his words so hard he nearly physically trips over, straightening himself up stiff as a board. ¡°Um! Uhh¡­ Y-you say it, Mei!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here for Irie, Adri, not you.¡± Mei scolds, but her expression lightens when she talks to Irie. ¡°We have their attention. What did you want to ask them, Irie?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Irie, Adri, and Mei! That day behind the Chief¡¯s library!¡± I remember the three of them now. I¡¯ve seen them around Haven enough, and they¡¯re always together as a group.

    ¡°You forgot your superior already- ow!¡± Adri starts, but a light smack from Mei shuts him up. Irie¡¯s the one that wants to ask a question.

    ¡°U-um¡­¡± Irie looks less and less confident the longer she looks at me, clinging to Mei¡¯s dress so tightly it looks like she might rip it.

    ¡°Is something the matter, little one? You look pale¡­¡± Arezza reaches out, lightly pressing the back of her hand against Irie¡¯s forehead to check her temperature. Subliminal charm or not, Arezza has a calming effect on children, to the point that Irie¡¯s actually getting a little flustered.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m okay!... I just, um¡­ Her.¡± Irie manages to point at me with her small hand. ¡°Marina. You called her Marina Retali, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Arezza looks back at me in mild surprise. ¡°Yes, I did. That is her name, is it not?¡±

    ¡°Marina Retali, that¡¯s me. Not the first Marina Retali in my family, but¡­ maybe the last.¡±

    Irie looks back and forth between Arezza and I, as if trying to put together a puzzle she can¡¯t make sense of. We¡¯ve spoken once before, so¡­ what difference does knowing my family name make? Maybe she just recognises it from somewhere? The Retali family name was known far and wide, so it¡¯s not impossible that she¡¯d know it, even if she¡¯s young¡­ not that I know how young.

    ¡°If you are Marina Retali, then¡­ did you ever visit an estate on the southern coast of the Sovrana Republic?¡± Irie finds her courage, launching her first question.

    ¡°I¡­ visited quite a few estates along the southern coast, You¡¯d have to be more¡­¡±

    ¡°It had pine trees imported from the north! Big white columns out the front, and a garden with lots of orange flowers!¡±

    ¡°I might know which one you mean, now, but¡­¡± I know the house she¡¯s talking about. I have been to quite a few estates, but I remember those trees¡­ and that spot in the tower on one of the corners of the mansion, reaching just above the trees. I¡¯ve definitely seen it, but why would she talk about that one¡­

    ¡°You were with your father, and your big sister who had red hair like Tiff and the Princess, and you were delivering a cello!¡±

    ¡°I remember that! The um¡­ Gods, that was so long ago, though, what was the family name¡­¡±

    ¡°Lucapenas! They had a young daughter, who-¡±

    ¡°Who I ended up spending most of the day playing with, but I was only seven then, and she was¡­¡±

    I drop to my knees, and my head is now level with Irie¡¯s. I see it now.

    ¡°Irie¡­ Eirene Lucapenas! You¡¯re Eirene Lucapenas, and you showed me all around your garden!¡±

    ¡°A-and you¡¯re¡­ Marina Retali, aren¡¯t you¡­? You became my first friend that day, didn¡¯t you¡­?¡± Irie starts to sob, clutching her dress.

    ¡°I was the first person you showed your hideout to, remember? And the window at the top of the tower that reached just above the trees, giving a perfect view of the ocean beyond¡­¡±

    ¡°Marina¡­¡± Irie cries, throwing herself at me in a hug.

    Eirene Lucapenas. The only daughter of the Lucapenas family, with the same sandy-blonde hair I remember her mother had. She was sickly, pale, and thin, but she was utterly beloved by her family and was fussed over by her mother and her maids nearly the whole time we were there. Her father, Signore Lucapenas, a man of some renown as an admiral in days past, had requested a cello from our family, to be played by one of their maids. Eirene once heard a cello playing on a rare trip into town, and she loved the sound of it ever since.

    Due to her health, she rarely saw people outside the family or the estate, and she had no one her age to talk to. Most outside guests were forbidden from the estate to protect Eirene¡¯s health, but my father was already acquainted with Signore Lucapenas, and maybe they agreed that introducing Eirene and I to one another would have been beneficial for both of us, as I had a lot of trouble socialising in my youth and didn¡¯t really have anyone my age (Vincenzo was too young then, and Carina was six years my senior. She only came along because she loved to travel, and our father had a tendency to spoil her when our mother wasn¡¯t around.) I was seven at the time, and Eirene was just under six years old.

    We quickly became friends. It was awkward at first, until we discovered our mutual enjoyment of running away and hiding from our parents. Eirene had maids, too, so hiding was even more fun when more people were seeking us! We moved from room to room through side doors and a few secret passageways, then made our way out into the garden while the maid staff were turning the entire house upside-down in a panic trying to find us. We ended up in her hideout, at the top of the manor¡¯s tower in a small attic space, listening to the hurried footsteps in the hallways downstairs as the maids called our names. I think our parents knew what we were up to, but we certainly stressed the hell out of the maids.

    We were eventually found by Eirene¡¯s mother, as it turned out her hideout wasn¡¯t so secret after all. We were lightly scolded for causing such a fuss, but in hindsight, both her parents and my father were quite happy we¡¯d gotten along so well. Carina was just annoyed with how we basically spent the entire day there because of our antics. The sun was starting to go down as we left, and Eirene and I promised we¡¯d write to each other. I sent my first letter not long after my visit.

    I didn¡¯t get one back from her. Instead, I got a letter from her father, informing me and my family that her illness worsened not long after we visited, and that Eirene had passed away in her sleep. That part of the memory I had suppressed to the point I¡¯d almost forgotten it. But I can¡¯t now, can I?

    She¡¯s right in front of me. In the Abyss. In the Underlands. In hell. I know for sure her family would have buried her in accordance with every custom and law imaginable, but, here she is anyway. I completely understand her not recognising me, but I¡¯ve completely changed. All that¡¯s changed in her are her eyes and her ears. But I¡¯m¡­ well, I died the day after my fifteenth birthday. Eirene looks¡­ a year older from when I last saw her, at most. She¡¯s grown a bit, and is less pale than before, but she¡¯s still¡­ Eirene.

    ¡°Hmm¡­?¡± A hand on my shoulder pulls me back to reality. Arezza gives me a warm smile as she gives a gentle squeeze. My cheeks are wet¡­ was I crying too? My wings are out, too. Wrapped around Irie in a soft hug.

    ¡°I never thought the brown-haired Marina Irie talked about being friends with would be the same winged Marina that ended up in Haven.¡± Mei says, leaning down behind Irie and rubbing her back.

    ¡°She¡­¡± Irie sniffles, looking up at me and wiping the tears from her eyes. ¡°You have the same face¡­ but you¡¯re so much older¡­¡±

    ¡°I was fifteen when I¡­ ended up here. How old are you now, Irie?¡±

    ¡°Eight¡­ You don¡¯t look fifteen¡­¡± Irie frowns a little, getting a better look at me.

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t have wings before I came to the Abyss, either. A lot has changed, and¡­ a lot has happened.¡±

    Iris reaches up, lightly patting my fringe. ¡°Your hair is still fluffy like before¡­¡± She smiles.

    ¡°I-it is?¡± As Iris pats my fringe, my left wing reaches up and pats her on the head with its outermost feather. Pat pat. Pat pat. She giggles.

    ¡°But¡­ How can the Marina Irie knew and the Marina in Haven be the same person?¡± Adri looks between Irie and I, confused.

    ¡°Chief Lichtrufer explained this before, Adri. People can die at the same time but end up in the Underlands at different times, or die at different times and end up in the same time. It¡¯s why Rann, who is Vann¡¯s grandson, is older than him here.¡± Mei helpfully explains.

    ¡°R-Rann is Vann¡¯s grandson?! I thought they were brothers!!¡± Adri exclaims in shock.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t pay attention in class, do you¡­¡± Mei sighs.

    ¡°You¡¯re certainly more well-informed on that than I am.¡± Arezza muses. ¡°Maybe I should sit in on a couple classes to see what I can learn.¡±

    ¡°I guarantee that the Chief will throw you out for distracting the students from their lessons just by being there, Arza.¡±

    ¡°Marina¡­!¡± She looks at me in shocked horror. ¡°You called me Arza~!¡± She gleefully flings herself at me in a hug, nearly making me topple over into the mud, and my wings excitedly flapping are not helping me stay upright.

    ¡°H-hey! You¡¯re nearly pushing me over, calm down!¡±

    ¡°Aaah~ My soft and fluffy Marina~¡± Arezza purrs, rubbing her face into my hair and neck* ¡°Hmm¡­ Doesn¡¯t smell too bad, either~¡±

    ¡°Get off me before you knock Eirene into the mud with us! You¡¯ve gotten the hem of your very-expensive-looking dress dirty already!¡± Not that Eirene seems to mind, as she giggles along with Arezza.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯ll wash out, there¡¯s plenty of clean water here! I just can¡¯t help but indulge in the wondrous softness presented before me~¡± She smiles, resting her head on my shoulder as she rubs her back against my wing, and I desperately try to ignore how pleasant it actually feels to have someone rub themselves all over my wing like this. This is still a sensation I am not used to having and I¡¯m not ready to admit that I¡¯m beginning to like it.

    ¡°Heh.¡± That distinct, pebbles-rattling-about-in-a-metal-tray chuckle comes from behind us.

    ¡°Y-your Majesty! Your dress!¡± Griffin cries, as the two of us turn to see the group we were supposed to be ¡°right behind¡± gathered before us.

    ¡°We were waiting nearly twenty minutes for you to show up. Poor Griffin was getting all worked up over how long you were taking~¡± Tiff grins, getting an annoyed look over his shoulder from Griffin as he helps Arezza up and tries to dust off her dress.

    ¡°A-ah¡­ were we getting in the way?¡± Irie lets go of me, taking a few steps back towards Mei in panic.

    ¡°Of course you¡¯re not, Eirene. I¡¯m happy I get to see you again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I never wrote, Marina¡­ I got sick again after you left, then I don¡¯t remember what happened, then I woke up here¡­¡± Eirene frowns.

    ¡°Did you get my letter, Eirene?¡± I ask, giving her another hug.

    ¡°I did¡­¡± She nods. ¡°My mother read it out to me, but I couldn¡¯t write one back¡­¡±

    ¡°... Marina Retali.¡± Tiff blinks, holding her head in her hands. ¡°Marina Retali! I knew the name from Irie! I mean, I already knew the Retali name, of course, but I never put it together that the Marina Retali with wings that Rann found out in the Abyss would be the same girl Irie was friends with when she was young¡­¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t recognise Eirene when we first met, Tiff. Don¡¯t be too hard on yourself. It¡¯s not like she would have recognised me, given how much I¡¯ve changed.¡±

    ¡°Your face is still the same. Your hair¡¯s still fluffy, too.¡± Irie corrects me.

    ¡°It is?¡±

    ¡°Your wings are fluffy, too.¡± She nods self-assuredly. My wings pat her again as thanks. At least they don¡¯t take fluffy as an insult.

    Soon enough, though, Adri, Mei, Irie, Rabbit, Mole, Arezza, and Tiff are gathered around me, touching and rubbing my soft wings. This is my life now. I¡¯m a one-woman petting zoo. Even Griffin touches them at Arezza¡¯s behest. I feel like some personal boundary is being crossed here without my spoken consent, but my wings absolutely love all the attention and praise, and if they¡¯re happy, I guess I have to live with it. Better than people¡¯s faces getting cut up, that¡¯s for sure.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you showing the Wolf kids around town before dinner, Tiff? Or has Marina¡¯s wings become the main attraction of Haven?¡± Rann asks, leaning against the wall.

    ¡°A-ahem, right¡­¡± Tiff steps back, a little embarrassed at being called out. ¡°Well, why don¡¯t Irie, Adri, and Mei join us for our tour? Maybe we could ¡°borrow¡± a couple sweet pastries to share before dinner~¡±

    ¡°But, it¡¯s impossible to take anything from the kitchen! Anton watches it like a hawk¡­¡± Adri says, clearly speaking from experience.

    ¡°You let me in on that, and I¡¯ll go distract Anton for you.¡± Rann grins wryly.

    ¡°Rann¡­!¡± Tiff turns to Rann in shock, and¡­ extends her hand, which Rann shakes. ¡°Deal. Come on, we¡¯ll go the long way around while Rann distracts him!¡±

    ¡°But what about Her Majesty¡­? Griffin asks, as Tiff and the five children set off on their heist.

    ¡°I still have to see the Crystalfall! But first, I have a mission to entrust you with, Griffin.¡± Arezza turns to face Griffin, adopting a regal posture. ¡°Secure some of Haven¡¯s finest pastries for your Queen, and you will receive a share of the spoils. That is your mission.¡±

    Griffin gives a firm nod, proudly saluting before joining Tiff and the other children.

    But¡­

    ¡°W-Wait! I want some too, don¡¯t leave me out!!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get you some too, Marina. The Chief entrusted you with looking after Arezza!¡± Tiff calls back as she rounds the corner behind the tavern.

    If they say so, then I¡¯ll stay with¡­ Arezza.

    I look to where Arezza should be, only to see her rounding the corner at the bottom of Crystal Road, headed for the waterfall. Since when can she move so fast?

    I ran down Crystal Road after her. I don¡¯t know why I ran, or why I felt like I couldn¡¯t lose sight of her, but ensuring safety was the only clear thought in my mind. Most of the townsfolk were starting to head back towards the tavern, and I got a few looks as I was the only one headed the other way, and I was in such a hurry my wings were helping push me along. It didn¡¯t matter. I was told to look after her, so I¡¯m responsible if anything happens. Not that anything could happen. But still, if something did¡­

    Of course, nothing did. As I rounded the last corner and was greeted by the great blue wall of the Crystalfall, the only things there were the waterfall itself, the numerous pools at its base, and Arezza, standing ankle-deep in the water, looking up at the majesty before her.

    She¡¯s safe.

    That¡¯s one less worry in my mind. Now to just catch my breath¡­

    ¡°You came in quite a hurry. You weren¡¯t going to miss anything.¡± The hooded old man beside me says. The same hooded man from the day I awoke in the Abyss, and a while ago inside Haven itself.

    ¡°You.¡± I pant, wiping the sweat from my brow. Why did I get so sweaty from such a short run? ¡°Been a while. What made you decide to turn up again?

    ¡°You happened to cross paths with me again. It was not my decision to make.¡±

    I stand up straight, looking out at Arezza and the Crystalfall before me, having finally caught my breath.

    ¡°Uh huh, sure. Non-committal answers as always.¡±

    He raises an eyebrow at me, giving me a sideways look. ¡°You take issue with the manner in which I speak?¡±

    ¡°No, just¡­ Yes, maybe. I don¡¯t know. Got a lot on my mind.¡±

    He stands in silence, waiting for me to continue.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t recognise Eirene, when she¡¯d barely changed. She said I was her first friend, and I was likely her only friend given she passed away soon after we met. I understand that people I knew in my former life might not recognise me, but if I can¡¯t recognise them¡­¡±

    How will I ever find my family, is the part I don¡¯t say out loud.

    ¡°You were young then. Half your lifetime ago. For her, it was one of her last happy memories before she passed. What was just another day for one, may have been life-changing for another.¡±

    ¡°She was sickly. What if she passed because of me? Because I played with her, and brought her into contact with even just a minor cold, which ended up taking her life because she was so frail?¡±

    ¡°Is that why you rushed down here? You feared something may happen if you took your eyes off her for even a moment?¡± He asks, gesturing towards Arezza.

    ¡°I¡­¡± I don¡¯t know how to answer that. I had no problem with Tiff taking Irie and the others out of my sight, but¡­ they weren¡¯t alone. Arezza would be, if I didn¡¯t come with her. And something about her¡­ makes me worry for her wellbeing when she¡¯s alone.

    ¡°You do not have the soul-seeing gifts your peer possesses, but you do not need them to see her pain. She has her own doubts, her own worries, her own questions, and her own fear, all weighing heavily on her soul. She hides it well beneath her smiling veil, knowing full well the darker forces in this world may use her pain against her, but a kind heart pierces through that veil, where a dagger would find no gain. She fears she does not hide it well enough.¡± His gaze is cast downard, staring at the featureless muddy earth at his feet.

    ¡°And what do you fear?¡±

    ¡°I fear¡­¡± He looks up at her with a bowed head. ¡°That fate is not quite finished with her.¡±

    He gives me a small, pained smile, before turning to walk back up the path towards Haven. I don¡¯t watch him leave. I stand there silently, reflecting upon my own thoughts and giving Arezza the time she needs.

    Which, I suppose, gives me some time to think as well.

 Chapter Thirty-Two (Volume 2 END + Authors Notes)

    I honestly haven¡¯t thought about my family that much since I first awoke in the Abyss.

    I haven¡¯t wanted to.

    Doing so would require thinking about what happened that day.

    The day I, and presumably the rest of my family, died.

    And¡­ That¡¯s all been pushed to one corner of my mind, emotions and memories pushed down into the depths, away from my waking mind, buried so they won¡¯t rise to hurt me.

    Yet it started to bubble to the surface, when Arezza asked me a question.

    ¡°Do you remember how you died, Marina?¡± She asked.

    The red sky.

    The smell of spilt blood.

    The broken bodies.

    The screams.

    The coldness that crept in as death took me.

    ¡°Vaguely.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± She ponders, her gaze remaining fixed on the Crystalfall.

    ¡°What makes you ask?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t entirely believe the story I tell myself about why I ended up here.¡± She answers, after a long pause. ¡°Or rather, I don¡¯t really remember how I fell down here in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Have you tried thinking about the last thing you clearly remember, before you woke up in the Abyss with a broken wing?¡±

    ¡°I was riding in a simple carriage with my two elder sisters, heading northeast. Just the three of us, exploring the world like we always did. Maybe I fell asleep at one point¡­¡±

    ¡°What about the bet you made? Actually trying to fly across the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°Everything after that carriage ride¡­ I can¡¯t tell what event came before the others. It¡¯s all a jumbled mess, but¡­ it can¡¯t be a lie, can it?¡± She chuckles. I¡¯m sure it was supposed to be a light-hearted chuckle; instead, it came out as a laugh of disbelief at her own expense. ¡°I¡¯ve told that story in the presence of two soulseers, and neither have called me out on it. Isn¡¯t seeing through lies what they¡¯re good at?¡±

    ¡°... I¡¯m not sure they¡¯re as good as seeing through the lies we tell ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Arezza turns to look at me; her green eyes wide, yet lacking their usual gem-like lustre.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ just my guess.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± She looks down at the clear water surrounding her feet. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m¡­ asking you a lot of strange things. Things I normally wouldn¡¯t ask people¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, you are standing in the sacred, forbidden waters of your people.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I am, aren¡¯t I? The bitter, forlorn sorrow of a mother who lost her child¡­ the lifeline that allows people to grow and children to laugh in a place so terrible as the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit heavy-handed, as far as metaphors go. Sorrowful waters finding joy at the end of its journey.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way of looking at it.¡± Arezza laughs; genuinely, this time. ¡°You can¡¯t stay sad forever¡­ and what better cure for sadness, than joy?¡±

    I walk up to the edge of the pool, watching Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow gracefully falling before us, kicking up a cool, clear mist that gives a welcome reprieve from unpleasant, heavy air that hangs above the rest of the Abyss.

    ¡°Still¡­ I can¡¯t recall any major rivers that flow into the Abyss, nor do I know where Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow flows into as it heads east. We can¡¯t get any answers ourselves when we¡¯re stuck down here, either.¡± We both crane our necks up, trying to look past the low-hanging clouds to see the origin of the Crystalfall, to no avail. It just falls from above; presumably, somewhere on the cliff is what logic would dictate, but logic¡¯s rule is not absolute in the Abyss.

    ¡°Perhaps the mouth of the waterfall is underground, and it opens somewhere up on the cliffs where we can¡¯t see.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, indeed.¡± Arezza nods. ¡°Of course, there is one way we could find out.¡±

    She turns to me with a smile, spreading her resplendent white-and-blue wings out from her waist, adorned with jewellery of every precious metal imaginable. White and blue. White and¡­

    ¡°Marina?¡± She blinks, as I take a few steps to the side so she¡¯s standing between myself and the waterfall.

    ¡°Your wings, Arza. The clear white of the mist where it meets the ground, and the deep blue of the water against the black cliffs¡­ they match the Crystalfall perfectly.¡±

    ¡°They do?¡± She glances down at her wings, then up at the Crystalfall, comparing the two as she carefully lifts her broken wing.

    ¡°Perfectly.¡± I smile. ¡°The beauty of the Crystalfall matches the beauty of your wings. White and blue, the colours of your royal household.

    ¡°Marina¡­¡± Her porcelain-white cheeks fill with a pink, rosy hue, before she clutches them in her hands in embarrassment. ¡°My¡­ you can¡¯t go showering me with compliments like that! I can only take such elegant and thoughtful words as a blossoming courtship¡­¡±

    ¡°One compliment is hardly a shower.¡± I furrow my brow a little, to which she gives me a playful grin.

    Now that I think of it, Azorii are an all-female race. Don¡¯t they need males of other races to reproduce? Or do they have their own internal work-around I¡¯m not aware of? Is she being serious? Did I just accidentally flirt with a princess and the princess accepted it? Am I going to get in trouble for this?

    ¡°Ahem!¡± Arezza clears her throat. ¡°While I graciously accept that compliment, what I was going to say is that we do have a way to find out what¡¯s really up there. There¡¯s no-one else around, so I thought it¡¯d be a good time to start teaching you how to fly, Marina.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no-one around because it¡¯s nearly dinner, Arza, and people will likely come looking for us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll happen when it¡¯ll happen! First, let¡¯s get a good look at those wings of yours!¡±

    ¡°Alright, just¡­ not directly in front of the Crystalfall. They don¡¯t go well with moisture.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t?¡± Arezza frowns, inquisitively tilting her head.

    I move back a few feet away from the pool, giving my shoulders a slight flex as my wings emerge from beneath my cloak. They can tolerate some rain, but a humid environment just makes moisture build up with them and makes them harder to move. If they get soaked, then¡­ it''s going to be a long time before I can get them dry again.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine if we do it here, right?¡±

    ¡°Well, I thought that if you fell, the water would hurt less than the rocks, but if you believe this works best for you!¡± She smiles.

    Right. There isn¡¯t much mud around the base of the Crystalfall; it¡¯s mostly bare, smooth rocks. Which will hurt a lot if I completely lose my balance and fall.

    ¡°You¡¯ll catch me if I fall, right?¡±

    ¡°If you think about falling, you¡¯re going to fall. Now, spread those wings as wide as they go.¡± She steps out of the water, moving around behind me to get a better look at my wings.

    ¡°... But you¡¯re the one that brought up falling in the first place.¡±

    Arezza doesn¡¯t seem to mind my comment as she stands behind me, tracing her fingers from the tip of my wing down to their base, between my shoulder blades, sending a chill down my spine that under any other circumstances would have been unpleasant, but, when it¡¯s Arezza¡­ well. She didn¡¯t seem to react much when I first touched her wings, so maybe mine are just uniquely sensitive. On top of them being uniquely feathered. And uniquely sword-carrying. You probably are one-of-a-kind, wings.

    ¡°Certainly big and strong enough to get you off the ground. Located in the thoracic region, with corresponding pectoral muscles around the chest¡­¡± She comments to herself, reaching under my wings to feel right beneath my chest-

    ¡°H-Hey!!¡± I yelp, jerking forwards as my wings awkwardly flap, agreeing with my brain that a line had been crossed in regards to where Arezza¡¯s been touching me.

    ¡°What? Haven¡¯t you noticed your new pair of muscles?¡± Arezza asks, apparently oblivious to why I reacted that way.

    ¡°What do you mean, my ¡°new pair of muscles¡±?! You were just groping my¡­ chest?¡±

    As I clutch myself in defence, I feel a sudden, strange tension along the lower edge of my ribs, like there¡¯s a muscle I¡¯ve never noticed¡­ before¡­

    What? Wings, can you-

    ¡°What the hell?!¡± As my wings give another light flap in response, I feel this alien muscle tense and relax just like how any regular muscle would, but¡­ How did I not notice this before? Trying to look down my shirt, I can¡¯t see any noticeable difference on my chest, but I can definitely feel it. I know the wings are the obvious addition, but have I completely missed the whole new set of corresponding muscles to go with them? Is there anything else I¡¯ve missed?

    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to clearly see them unless you¡¯re exceptionally athletic, Marina.¡± Arezza giggles, watching me fret over myself.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t funny to me, Arza! I thought I¡¯d come to terms with this changed body and these new limbs, only to have now just discovered there¡¯s even more fundamental changes to me!¡±

    ¡°From my knowledge, none of the Damned normally have wings, so they wouldn¡¯t have the muscles required to move wings. Our bodies don¡¯t move on their own, they all have muscles connected to one another to move. Why would wings be any different from your arms or legs?¡± She explains, which¡­ makes sense. It also tells me that in my previous life, medical knowledge that was considered fringe in the Sovranan Republic must be the average and accepted level of knowledge for an Azorii princess.

    ¡°So¡­ Do you have the same muscles too, even though your wings are lower on your back?¡±

    ¡°All Azorii have muscles that connect to their back to help move their wings, but they develop differently based on where the wings are. My wings are at waist level in the lumbar region, so my strongest flight muscles are in my waist and hips.¡±

    ¡°Would I also have flight muscles in my waist and hips¡­?¡± I ask, staring down at my body. Just as I was getting used to it, it feels alien all over again.

    ¡°Potentially. You might not, too, since you¡¯re not an Azorii. Of course, I can always check for you~¡± She grins, taking a step forward.

    ¡°I thought we were here for flight training, not for you to feel me up out in the open.¡±

    ¡°I offer my help out of the kindness of my heart to teach you how to better understand your body, and you accuse me of such things¡­? It seems I misjudged you, Marina¡­¡± She frowns, sighing wistfully to really try and lay on the guilt.

    ¡°Well¡­ do these flight muscles in other parts of my body matter as much as what¡¯s in my chest?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t, but it would be interesting to find out if you have them or not.¡± She bounces back from her feigned sorrow to her usual self. ¡°Another place, another time. Let¡¯s begin with this; what flight experience have you had so far?¡±

    ¡°I can jump fairly high with the help of my wings, and stay in the air for¡­ a little bit, and land on my feet most of the time.¡±

    ¡°Then you have the first and last steps finished already! Now we just have to get you to stay in the air for longer than a little bit~¡± Arezza nods happily.

    ¡°So all that¡¯s left is the hard part.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your main struggle in staying airborne?¡±

    ¡°Balance.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Maybe I should check if you have extra muscles in your lower torso after all. The increased core strength is one of the primary methods of maintaining balance, beside having a tail¡­¡± She thinks aloud, taking a sideways glance at my hips.

    ¡°I¡­ Hmm.¡± I look down at myself, carefully feeling along my hips for any new muscles I¡¯m yet to familiarise myself with. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different down here¡­¡±

    A slight chill running down my spine is the only warning I get that Arezza has deftly moved around behind me, resting her chin on my shoulder as she reaches under my wings and takes my hands in her own, guiding them up just above my hips.

    ¡°No, silly. They¡¯d be up here~¡± She giggles, right in my ear.

    ¡°I¡¯m clearly interrupting something, so I¡¯ll make sure Anton leaves something aside for the two of you when you finish.¡± The Chief sighs, standing in front of us with an unimpressed look on her face.

    ¡°Ah-¡± Arezza blinks, jolting slightly in surprise.

    ¡°Chief?!¡± I jerk, my wings spreading out in shock.

    ¡°Oh! You do have muscles down here, Marina!¡± Arezza exclaims, as I feel something strange tense under my skin against my hands.

    ¡°As I said, clearly interrupting something¡­¡± The Chief shrugs disapprovingly, turning back towards Haven.

    ¡°Ch-Chief! She was just¡­ supposed to be teaching me how to fly!¡±

    ¡°Is that why she¡¯s holding you so close around your waist?¡± The Chief stops, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

    ¡°I was checking for her flight muscles! Rather helpfully, it seems her body¡¯s developed the same muscles an Azorii has!¡± Arezza explains, moving her hands up to my ribs. ¡°The largest ones are under her chest, supporting her thoracic-located wings!¡±

    ¡°... Oh.¡± The Chief relaxes, walking back up to us. ¡°I read something about the flight muscles of the Azorii. I suppose it makes sense Marina would have something similar, even though her wings are so unlike that of the other winged races of Perga.¡±

    ¡°Hers aren¡¯t as developed as an Azorii, nor does she have a tail, but this will help a lot in teaching her how to fly properly.¡± Arezza nods, feeling my hips again. This has gone beyond any connotation of groping, I¡¯m now just an anatomy subject. A 3D diagram for explaining the body to a classroom of students.

    ¡°Are we going to get back to teaching, or is the anatomy lesson not over yet?¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright~¡± Arezza finally lets me go, stepping back. ¡°We should join the others for dinner, but first, show me what you can do, Marina. Stay in the air as long as you can.¡±

    I walk a few steps away from Arezza and the Chief so I don¡¯t fall on top of them, standing with my legs apart and wings spread. We¡¯re not jumping off of or onto anything, we¡¯re just going up, staying up for as long as we can, then landing on our feet. We¡¯ve done it before, wings. Let¡¯s not embarrass ourselves here, okay-

    With a mighty flap, my wings thrust us into the air, above the heads of the two onlookers in one great leap, and for the briefest moment, there I stay, perfectly suspended in the air.

    I describe it as the ¡°briefest moment¡± because a fraction of a second later, my upper body jerks forward as my wings flap again, throwing off my balance as I hang like there¡¯s a rope around my chest, before coming crashing back down, landing hard on my hands and knees.

    ¡°Ow¡­¡±

    The Chief just sighs quietly, helping me back to my feet as my wings awkwardly flitter.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Arezza ponders, furrowing her brow. ¡°There¡¯s certainly a disconnect between your wings and the rest of your body.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of that. They don¡¯t know how to fly any more than I do.¡± I grunt, brushing the loose pebbles off my knees and hands.

    ¡°Actually¡­ I think they know more than you think they do, Marina. You just need to trust them.¡± Arezza nods, having found her answer.

    ¡°I trust them. I just don¡¯t¡­¡± I trail off, noticing the look the Chief is giving me. The look of ¡°You¡¯re not telling the truth, Marina.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t fully trust them. They¡¯re a lot better at behaving themselves now, but trusting them to not dump me on the ground like they just did is a different matter- Ow!¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    My left wing flaps right in my face in annoyance. Yeah, that¡¯s why I can¡¯t trust you with- Ow!! Stop it! Don¡¯t both of you start misbehaving!

    ¡°Should we help her¡­?¡± Arezza asks the Chief concernedly, as they both watch me lose a fight against the highly opinionated limbs attached to my back.

    ¡°She can handle them. They don¡¯t stay angry for long.¡± The Chief comments, watching me with crossed arms as she¡¯s seen this happen many times before.

    ¡°I would appreciate some help¡­¡± I sigh, getting back on my feet after my wings calm down, slinking low by my sides. ¡°How exactly do I trust my wings about this, Arza?¡±

    ¡°Focus on keeping your balance, Marina. Your wings will focus on flying. It¡¯s actually harder to stay in one spot when flying, so if you can learn this, then moving while flying will be easier. Try not to move your legs. You can hold your arms out to help keep balance. If you¡¯re going too far forward, lean back, if you¡¯re going too far back, lean forward!¡± She answers, helpfully gesturing with her body to show me what to do.

    Focus on keeping my balance. Alright.

    Let¡¯s try it this way, wings. Don¡¯t go yet, I¡¯ll explain. You just flap. Get us up above the Chief and Arza¡¯s heads, but no higher, and try to keep us there. I¡¯ll focus on keeping us upright. You trust me to keep us steady, I trust you to keep us airborne. Alright?

    A flap of agreement. Right. Three. Two¡­

    ¡°One!¡±

    In an instant, gravity loses its pull over me as I soar into the air. I focus entirely on keeping my balance; legs still, arms out, tensing my core muscles and making constant adjustments as I lean one way or the other. I reach the zenith, and just as I begin to fall back to the ground, another flap of my wings pushes me back up, again and again in a constant fight against the pull of the earth.

    A fight we¡¯re winning.

    I¡¯ve been off the ground for five seconds.

    I¡¯m flying.

    ¡°She¡¯s flying!!¡± Arezza excitedly calls, as the Chief can¡¯t help but smile at my effort.

    ¡°I¡¯m flyinnng-urggh.¡±

    My wings suddenly cease as my body goes numb, and I come crashing back down to the rocks. One last flap expended what little strength they had left, breaking my fall just enough so I was able to land on my hands and knees, only to sprawl out on the ground in a heap.

    ¡°Marina! You were doing fine, and then¡­ what happened?¡± The Chief rushes to my aid, trying to help me sit back up to little success.

    ¡°Strength¡­ gone¡­ can¡¯t move¡­ body¡­¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­ flying takes a lot of strength, and a lot of practice. Your flight muscles need to be trained if you want to fly for longer than a few seconds at a time¡­¡± Arezza joins the Chief, the two of them managing to help me back onto my feet, shaky and weak as I am.

    ¡°Have to¡­ train¡­?¡±

    ¡°Every day, Marina. I can teach you some exercises.¡± Arezza smiles.

    ¡°That can come later. For now, she should get some food in her.¡± The Chief says, as the three of us start to head back towards the tavern, my arms limply draped across both their shoulders.

    Step by step, we make it back up the road back into the village. All my limbs feel like jelly, and for the first time, I can feel all my flight muscles, both the ones in my chest and the ones around my waist and hips. I can feel them all burning like how your calves burn after running a mile uphill, but somehow even worse. I was off the ground for five seconds and I¡¯ve never felt so physically exhausted in my life. Gods knows how long it¡¯ll take me to fly out of the Abyss, six hundred tals up.

    Most of Haven had packed into the tavern by now, as the dinner service was in full swing. For some reason, Rann was sitting on the bench outside the tavern, idly chewing on half a pastry topped with some kind of glazing as I staggered inside between the Chief and Arza.

    ¡°Your Majesty!¡± Griffin jumps to his feet, rushing over to us. ¡°What¡­ happened to her?¡± He asks, satisfied in knowing that his Queen is safe, as he gives me a confused look as I manage to step over and sit down on the nearest bench inside the Tavern.

    ¡°First day of flying practice.¡± Arza smiles, lightly patting me on the shoulder. I nearly hit my face on the table before the Chief catches me and pulls me back upright.

    Where am I¡­ ah. I¡¯m seated amongst the expedition team. I¡¯m more or less an official member of them, even if I¡¯m¡­ am I an official member? I can¡¯t remember¡­ member¡­ re¡­ ehehe¡­

    I lazily slump over against the wall beside me. It¡¯s a very warm and soft wall, but it¡¯s a nice wall. Nice enough for me to rest my eyes for a bit¡­

    ¡°Erm¡­¡± The wall shifts somehow, and for some reason, Rob¡¯s voice comes from it.

    Oh. Looking up, it is Rob.

    ¡°O-Oh, I¡­ thought I was against the wall¡­¡± I awkwardly say. Thankfully, some control over my body returned long enough for me to sit upright as much as I can, with my wings still sprawled out behind me reaching down to the ground.

    ¡°The hells did you do, Feathers? Fly to the other side of the Abyss n¡¯ back?¡± Johnny asks, before taking another bite of his meal.

    ¡°You have no idea how exhausting flying is, Johnny¡­¡± I groan, rubbing my side along my ribs. ¡°I¡¯m hurting in places I didn¡¯t know could hurt so bad¡­¡±

    ¡°Did you really fly, Marina?¡± Arshiya asks, sitting across the table from me as she shuffles closer.

    ¡°For about¡­ five seconds, I think. I was more focused on keeping balanced than anything else.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no flyin¡¯ expert but that don¡¯t sound half-bad, Feathers. Did ya land properly like I told you to?¡± Johnny says between mouthfuls. I show him my grazed palms in response. ¡°Well. Coulda gone worse, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    One of the barmaids places a bowl of hot bloodbeast stew in front of me, with a large wooden tankard filled with¡­ something vaguely sweet-smelling. It¡¯ll do. I haven¡¯t felt so exhausted in ages¡­

    ¡°You don¡¯t look that happy, for someone who just flew for the first time.¡± Arshak comments, seated beside his sister.

    ¡°I¡¯m just tired. I¡¯ll have my dinner then crawl into bed, if the Chief lets me¡­¡± I grumble, idly chewing on a bread roll.

    ¡°You¡¯re more than just tired, Marina.¡± He frowns.

    ¡°And what would you know? I just said I¡¯m tired. Get off my back about it.¡± I slammed my fist on the table to emphasise my point.

    This end of the table goes quiet as they all just stare at me. What? I¡¯m fucking exhausted. I already said that I was going to go straight to bed after this.

    ¡°U-um¡­¡± a tiny, trembling voice tries to speak up, almost imperceptible against the background noise of the tavern, but I know that voice.

    ¡°Eirene¡­¡±

    Eirene was standing at the end of the table beside me, nervously clutching a glazed pastry in her hands as my anger got the better of me.

    ¡°Put your wings down already, Feathers. You¡¯re scarin¡¯ the poor girl.¡± Johnny says. My wings had arched up as my temper rose, finding new strength from my anger. Now that they¡¯ve been called out, though, they nervously flitter and shrink back down, choosing to retreat into the safe confines of my cloak.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Eirene¡­ and, everyone, just¡­¡± I don¡¯t have any excuse. I got angry over someone just asking how I was.

    ¡°Marina.¡± Tiff appears behind me, gently placing her hand on my shoulder. ¡°Come around to my place after dinner. We should talk.¡±

    ¡°I-Is Marina in trouble, Miss Tiffany? She just looks upset, I¡¯m not upset about her being angry¡­¡± Eirene panics, but bravely comes to my defence.

    ¡°Of course she isn¡¯t, Eirene. She just needs someone to talk to. Besides, Rann¡¯s already in time-out for us.¡± Tiff smiles, patting Eirene on the head.

    ¡°That¡¯s why he was out the front¡­¡± I guess he did take the fall for Tiff and the kids.

    ¡°You should eat this quickly¡­¡± Eirene carefully places the pastry beside my plate, looking towards the kitchen. ¡°Before Mr. Anton sees. He doesn¡¯t know we got you something as well.¡±

    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s why Rann was sitting outside? He covered for you so you could steal food from the kitchen?¡± Arshak blinks, putting two and two together.

    ¡°You can¡¯t steal what¡¯s intended to be yours, Arshak. We simply took ours a little early~¡± Tiff smiles innocently.

    ¡°No wonder the Chief said you¡¯re a bad influence on the kids¡­¡± He grumbles, frowning at Tiff.

    ¡°She does not! Besides, I helped raise you and Arshiya, didn¡¯t I? And you¡¯ve grown to be so responsible and sensible for someone your age.¡± Tiff pouts, before patting herself on the back for the good job she did in raising Arshak to be a responsible, sensible young man.

    ¡°What do you mean ¡°my age¡±? I¡¯m an adult!¡± Arshak retorts.

    ¡°You got hair on your chest yet, kid?¡± Johnny interjects.

    ¡°N-no! And don¡¯t call me kid!¡± Arshak covers his chest, offended.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll keep callin¡¯ you kid ¡®til ya grow some chest hair, kid.¡± Johnny grins smugly.

    ¡°Miss Tiffany, will I be an adult when I grow hair on my chest¡­?¡± Eirene asks innocently, tugging on Tiff¡¯s dress.

    ¡°No, sweetie. Girls don¡¯t grow hair on their chest. That¡¯s something Arshiya should have known by now.¡± Tiff smiles at Eirene, before raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Arshiya, who¡¯s busy staring down her own shirt.

    ¡°I have chest hair. That means I¡¯m an adult.¡± Arshiya proclaims, nodding confidently once she had finished examining herself.

    ¡°You do NOT! There¡¯s no way you¡¯d grow that before me!¡± Arshak turns back to his sister in shock, drawing laughter from all of us at this end of the table.

    The rest of the meal was jovial and light after the heavy mood had been lifted. I didn¡¯t have much of an appetite before, but the few meagre bites I¡¯d taken beforehand turned out to be not nearly enough to sate my hunger. Flying is exhausting, and it takes a lot of energy. I may have to ask for larger portions if I¡¯m going to take up a flight-training regime.

    Tiff asked to see me after dinner for a talk, though.

    So here I am. Waiting on the ground floor in one of her chairs as she puts Rabbit and Mole to bed. Arezza and Griffin are currently at the Chief¡¯s place (likely obsessing over books, Arezza was ecstatic to see how many the Chief had), so her house was quiet for the time being, as I watched the dim, crackling light of the lit fireplace.

    ¡°Hahh¡­¡± Tiff sighs, walking down the stairs. ¡°Children these days have so much energy¡­ I can barely keep up with them.¡±

    ¡°Surely you¡¯re too young to be having such trouble, Tiff?¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe it¡¯s Rabbit in particular. She has so much boundless energy and curiosity, and it¡¯s simply impossible to say no to those big, innocent eyes¡­¡± She smiles, sitting down across from me and taking a long sip from her cup of mulled pomegranate wine.

    ¡°Her earnest wonder at everything around her is something I can¡¯t help but envy, given where we now live.¡±

    ¡°Were we not stuck down here, the Abyss wouldn¡¯t be so bad. Imagine all the food we could grow if we could clear part of the forest and irrigate it from the Crystalfall¡­¡± She muses, pondering what could be.

    ¡°We¡¯d have to deal with the wildlife first.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the easy part. All we¡¯d have to do is put the word out to adventurers, and they¡¯ll come from miles around to deal with the wildlife for us! We could then make money back by offering them board and hot meals from the tavern. It¡¯s wins all around~¡± She smiles proudly for coming up with such a sound idea.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure the Chief would be fond of the idea of turning Haven into a tourist destination for rowdy adventurers¡­ it could definitely work, though.¡±

    ¡°Think about it! A place impossible to get into or out of, suddenly opened up to the world! Who wouldn¡¯t want to come see it for themselves?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d require a lot of us to stay in Haven to keep it running, though. I can¡¯t imagine everyone would want to stay, if the option to leave to the wider world was available.¡±

    ¡°Would you leave Haven if given the chance, Marina?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡±

    Would I? Well¡­

    ¡°Maybe not right away. Maybe not on my own. But¡­ at some point, probably. If there¡¯s a chance I could find anyone from my family¡­¡±

    ¡°Even if you had to go to the very ends of the Underlands?¡± She tilts her head to the side a little

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you go that far for the people you love?¡±

    ¡°The people I love are right here. The only family I had was my father, and well¡­ he¡¯s the reason I¡¯m here.¡± She laughs half-heartedly, but her sullen downward glance gives away the pain that memory brings.

    ¡°... I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to bring that up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the one that asked you to talk in the first place, Marina.¡± She sighs, relaxing and looking up at me with a smile. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be talking about your problems, not mine.¡±

    ¡°Well, mine are definitely¡­ related to the thoughts of my family.¡±

    ¡°Did something happen between you and Arza while you were down by the Crystalfall? Besides you flying and getting exhausted from flying.¡± She asks.

    ¡°She asked me if I remembered how I died. Because¡­ she doesn¡¯t clearly remember how she ended up in the Abyss, despite what she told us.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t¡­ I see.¡± Tiff nods, thinking about it. ¡°She¡¯s told this story to Mia, but she didn¡¯t raise any issue with it¡­¡±

    ¡°Would she be able to notice a lie if the person telling it truly wishes to believe it?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯d notice the uncertainty normally, but I imagine someone raised as a princess would be taught to appear confident in what they say. How much does she remember to be true, if any at all?¡±

    ¡°The carriage ride with her sisters. Everything after that, until she woke up under the care of the Wolf Pups, is hazy and unclear.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± She ponders, before laughing to herself.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You have a way of making people open up to you, don¡¯t you, Marina?¡±

    ¡°I do? I mean, it¡¯s not intentional, but¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gentle, kind, and forgiving, given all you¡¯ve been through. You¡¯re earnest, and good at gaining people¡¯s trust.¡± She smiles warmly.

    ¡°If you say so¡­¡± I¡¯m likely blushing, after having so many compliments heaped on me.

    ¡°But, it wasn¡¯t what Arza said that made you upset. It was the memories coming back, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Her tone becomes both calm and serious. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve heard her speak that way.

    The memories. They¡¯re¡­

    ¡°They¡¯re not clear, aren¡¯t they?¡± She answers for me.

    ¡°I mean, it should be. I swear it is. I was laying in a ditch, and¡­¡±

    And?

    And what?

    What came before that?

    I was home, with my family. My extended family, to be specific. I don¡¯t talk about them much, but my home was more a small group of houses around the workshops where the famous Retali instruments were made. If you wanted to find the Retalis, you could find most of them in one place. Some of my uncles travelled a lot as salesmen, but they all came back home to the Retali estate. It was the day after my birthday, and the mood was high. And then¡­ I was in a ditch.

    I was home, things were normal. Then I was dying in a ditch.

    What happened in between?

    I was with my family. When were we attacked? Why were we attacked? Why did¡­ I thought I knew everything that happened. Why can¡¯t I think about it now? Like I know I¡¯ve been trying to repress the memory of my entire family being slaughtered and my house burning and my sister being raped and my mother being disembowled and my father fighting back and getting decapitated for it, and trying to hide but I couldn¡¯t and then they found me and then-

    ¡°Marina.¡±

    Tiff¡¯s voice, and her hands placed firmly on my shoulders bring me back to reality. My cheeks are wet. I¡¯m shaking uncontrollably.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard, I know.¡± Tiff pulls me into a gentle, warm hug. ¡°It¡¯s harder still that we often can¡¯t remember what happened in our last moments.¡±

    ¡°My family¡­ I can¡¯t remember, I don¡¯t want to remember¡­¡±

    ¡°Shhhh¡­¡± She consoles me, gently stroking my hair as I can only clutch her dress and sob helplessly.

    I was as helpless to save them as I was myself. My whole family was gathered for my birthday the day before. My entire family could have died that day. The Retali family, wiped out in an afternoon. Gone.

    Some gone to heaven, maybe. Or to oblivion.

    All I know is that I¡¯ve gone to hell.

    ¡°Marina¡­?¡± A small, young voice says, as I feel a light tug on my shirt.

    I sat up a little, wiping my tears to see a very concerned Rabbit looking up at me, holding Mole¡¯s hand beside her. I blink, to clearly see the tears streaming down Mole¡¯s cheeks.

    ¡°Rabbit? Mole¡­? Why¡¯re you crying¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard not to.¡± Mole answers, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. ¡°I get affected by other people¡¯s emotions a lot.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you two¡­¡± Tiff wraps her arm around Mole and Rabbit to pull them into the hug, giving us all a good squeeze. ¡°Mia was like that when she was younger, too. If someone was angry, she¡¯d get angry. If someone was crying, she¡¯d cry. If someone was laughing, she¡¯d try very hard not to laugh. Her cheeks would swell, she¡¯d wince as tears began to well up, before she couldn¡¯t take it any more and burst out laughing. She¡¯d try to stop, and constantly yell ¡°It¡¯s not funny! I just can¡¯t help it!¡± in between her laughs, which would only make others laugh more, so she¡¯d laugh more as well. We¡¯d all be in stitches by the end of it~¡±

    As Tiff was telling the story of how the Chief was when she was younger, she was unaware that the Chief, Arezza, and Griffin had quietly entered Tiff¡¯s home. Tiff¡¯s chair faces away from the door, and she was blissfully unaware that the Chief was now standing right behind her, as Tiff continues with embarrassing stories from the Chief¡¯s youth.

    Rabbit, Mole, and I were aware, of course. I¡¯d even locked eyes with the Chief for a moment, not that Tiff noticed. It was only a matter of time¡­

    ¡°There was one time. She was eavesdropping on a council meeting behind a closed door, as she wanted to know what was really going on in Haven. Someone told a joke and made the others laugh, and from her hiding spot, Mia burst out laughing and gave herself away instantly!¡± Tiff continues, giggling to herself. ¡°She was so embarrassed when the door was opened and she couldn¡¯t stop laughing¡­¡±

    ¡°For the record, I wasn¡¯t eavesdropping. I was simply waiting to be called in and happened to overhear something.¡± The Chief speaks up, correcting Tiff¡¯s narrative.

    Tiff lets out a shocked yelp as she nearly jumps out of her skin. ¡°M-Mia?! How long have you been here?! Arza and Griffin are back too?¡±

    ¡°The Chief happened to overhear you just before we entered, and told us to enter quietly and see how long it¡¯d take you to notice.¡± Arezza giggles.

    ¡°So¡­ you three saw them enter and said nothing?¡± Tiff asks us.

    ¡°I thought you knew they walked in¡­?¡± Rabbit frowns, innocently tilting her head to one side.

    ¡°I was the only one left out, hmmm¡­¡± Tiff crosses her arms and pouts as we all giggle a little at her expense. She gives Rabbit and Mole a sideways glance with a cocked eyebrow. ¡°Didn¡¯t I put you two to bed just a moment ago?¡±

    ¡°You did! And now, we¡¯re going back to bed!¡± Rabbit smiles, running over to the bottom of the stairs. ¡°Come, Mole! We must rest up for tomorrow¡¯s adventure!¡±

    Rabbit leads Mole back up the stairs to their room as Griffin follows up behind them at Arezza¡¯s behest.

    ¡°Are you feeling better now, Marina?¡± The Chief asks.

    ¡°I am, now, just¡­ maybe I underestimated how traumatic dying really is because I¡¯d mostly just avoided thinking about it¡­¡±

    ¡°I did remind Arza why we don¡¯t ask about such things. It¡¯s rarely a pleasant memory, and it doesn¡¯t really matter how we ended up here. We¡¯re here, and we just have to live with it.¡± She sighs, shooting a disapproving look at Arezza.

    ¡°In a way, it¡¯s reassuring that my experience of ending up down here with everyone else isn¡¯t all that different¡­¡± Arezza chuckles sheepishly.

    ¡°You talked to the Chief about how you can¡¯t really remember what happened between the carriage ride and waking up at the bottom of the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°I did, yes. I have a lot of questions about it, honestly¡­ none of which I can really answer, given our current situation.¡± She sighs through her smile. I feel the slight frustration she feels. Maybe we could find answers to all these questions, but we can¡¯t, as long as we¡¯re trapped in the cavernous confines of the Abyss.

    ¡°Anyway, it is getting late, so we should all best get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day.¡± The Chief says, as I stand.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t come here just to pick me up, did you?¡± I grin teasingly.

    ¡°No, I came here because I was escorting Arza and Griffin. You just happen to be here, so you can join me on my return trip.¡± She corrects, despite the fact that an escort is entirely needless within the safety of Haven.

    ¡°If you say so, Mia.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in the presence of others. You shall refer to me by my proper title.¡± She gives me a half-hearted glare before we leave to head back to her residence.

    This is the new life, or maybe the afterlife we find ourselves in. What back home, or¡­ back ¡°above¡± considers to be hell. There¡¯s plenty of hellish things about it, certainly; the red-and-brown colour palette, the open burning pits, the giant predators, not to mention the streams of blood, let alone the blood rain. Also the fact that the majority of the native residents have horns, just as the old stories told. There¡¯s even daemons, though not everyone is a daemon. Even us Damned can become daemons.

    Yeah, it¡¯s hell. I¡¯ve been separated from all my family and may never see any of them again. But I¡¯ve found a new family. Mia, Tiff, Rann and Vann, Anton, Johnny, the twins, the other members of the expedition team, Eirene, Max, Han, and Kazuma, and now Arza, Rabbit, Mole, and Crow. The people of Haven, and the children of the Wolf Pups.

    Hell isn¡¯t so bad if you don¡¯t have to go through it alone.

 Chapter Thirty-Three

    The week of Arza¡¯s stay in Haven has been a lively one. By now, she¡¯s friends with everyone, adults and children alike, and knows her way around Haven like the back of her hand. She¡¯s been so enamoured with her time here that it¡¯s become nearly impossible to find her, and your only hope is to run into her as she moves from the tailor to the blacksmith, between the school and the Chief¡¯s library, from the tavern to the kitchen.

    Despite her frollicking about town, she was never late to our daily flight training sessions. She has taught me a number of helpful exercises and stretches to get used to my flight muscles, but the act of flying is different altogether. I¡¯ve improved my balance and control a lot, but that doesn¡¯t change how exhausting it is, nor can I manage more than five seconds at a time in the air before I have to land or else I¡¯ll just collapse to the ground. It feels like slow progress, but Arza always says I¡¯m doing very well and picking things up very quickly.

    As Arza¡¯s weeklong stay began to near its end, though, things changed. Nothing big, nothing that most people would notice, but for Tiff, the Chief, and I, we all picked up on it.

    Every morning, Arza would spend longer in bed. Her visits to the library grew longer. She¡¯d lose focus on training, instead just watching the clear mist hang in the air at the base of the Crystalfall. Today, it¡¯s nearly lunchtime, and she still hasn¡¯t gotten out of bed, according to Tiff. Her mind was elsewhere. Or at least, it wanted to be.

    ¡°And she¡¯s pretending that these things have never happened whenever we ask her¡­¡± The Chief sighs, staring down into her mug, as if the mulled pomegranate wine within will tell her the answer if she glares at it enough.

    ¡°All Griffin had to say was that Arza just¡­ gets like this sometimes. He says, given enough time, it¡¯ll pass.¡± Tiff shrugs lightly, seated between the Chief and I as we discuss in the Chief¡¯s library.

    ¡°How does she look to you, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Blue.¡± Is her answer, her eyes remaining fixated on her wine.

    ¡°We know she¡¯s not feeling well, Mia¡­ You can be a little more descriptive than that.¡± Tiff responds with a small smile.

    ¡°No, I mean¡­ the colour around her. It¡¯s all blue. Completely blue. Like she¡¯s thrown a blue blanket over everything else she¡¯s feeling. Perhaps I didn¡¯t give her enough credit in her ability to conceal her emotions¡­¡± She lets out another, longer sigh, sinking into her chair. ¡°I¡¯ve always struggled to make sense of that colour. It¡¯s not the same as the fathomless dark blue of a starless night that hangs around Anton like a curse, but it¡¯s certainly no less difficult to perceive through.¡±

    ¡°Normally, I¡¯d associate blue with feelings of sadness, but Anton¡¯s never struck me as a sad person¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing, Marina. Some people wear one colour about them all the time, no matter what they¡¯re feeling at any given moment. They¡¯re not incapable of feeling a range of emotions, but it just never shows up on them. It can get so overwhelmingly monotonous it genuinely gives me a headache. It makes actually understanding them all the more difficult¡­¡± The Chief rubs her temple, as if even just thinking about someone like that does her head in.

    ¡°So, someone like Anton has a¡­ halo of dark blue hanging around their head all the time?¡±

    ¡°A halo¡¯s one way of putting it.¡± She finally takes a sip from her wine, savouring it for a moment. ¡°But not entirely true. The only time his colour changes is when he¡¯s at work in the kitchen. Suddenly, that blue void around his head shines with thousands of tiny white lights, cutting through the darkness like the stars coming out after a nighttime storm. That vanishes almost completely once he leaves the kitchen, though.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, I wish I could see what you see, Mia. The way you describe what you see sounds so beautiful. Gods, it even makes Anton sound beautiful!¡± Tiff giggles, but habitually throws a look towards the stairs to make sure she¡¯s in the clear. Anton has a history of abruptly appearing whenever Tiff makes a teasing comment about him.

    ¡°It has taken many years for me to come to appreciate the fleeting moments of beauty I witness through my soulseer¡¯s eye. The vast majority of people are just a patchwork mess of colours with no apparent shape or reason. Though, the longer I know someone, the clearer it becomes.¡± The Chief clarifies. It must take years of practice to get used to seeing so much extra information every time you merely look at someone, let alone figuring out how an entire crowd is feeling.

    ¡°Please tell me your refined clarity means you no longer see tree branches and leaves sprouting out from my head like you used to, Mia.¡± Tiff comments, holding her hands up beside her head and wiggling her fingers to imitate the swaying branches of a tree.

    ¡°Mmmm¡­¡± The Chief gives Tiff a long, thoughtful look, before taking another sip of her wine. ¡°Still tree branches.¡±

    ¡°What?! You¡¯re telling me you see a starry night sky around Anton but I¡¯m just a tree?¡± Tiff huffs, sitting upright with her hands on her hips.

    ¡°As your temper flares, the green leaves turn to the colours of autumn, ending up a fiery red as it peaks, before they all fall off and the branches are as bare as winter as you dejectedly admit you let your temper get the better of you. Soon enough, though, they start to grow with the young colours of spring.¡± She describes, as if seeing this all happen in front of her as she speaks. Judging by Tiff¡¯s reaction, she¡¯s not far off.

    ¡°You¡¯re really not fair sometimes, you know¡­¡± Tiff sulks, crossing her arms before looking across at me. ¡°Since Marina¡¯s here, how would you describe what you see around her?¡±

    The Chief¡¯s inquisitive gaze turns to me, looking my face up and down.

    ¡°A flower bed.¡± She concludes.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that just the same as me?!¡± Tiff starts.

    ¡°No, your emotions tend to move in cycles. Marina¡¯s a green, well-maintained flower bed. At first glance, it¡¯s neat and orderly¡­ until the flowers start to bloom in every different colour conceivable, with no sense of coherence nor order. It¡¯s getting worse the longer I look at her.¡± Her eyes narrow slightly, as I struggle to imagine exactly what kind of flowers are apparently blooming all around my head. ¡°Patterns do start to emerge after a while, though. Honestly, Marina. Does maintaining eye contact unnerve you so much? The ability to look one in the eye unflinchingly is one of the first things you¡¯re taught in Drachenkoenig, and failing to do so is a grave insult.¡±

    ¡°In the Sovranan Republic, we¡¯re taught that it¡¯s rude to stare, and I don¡¯t think you realise just how intensely you stare, Chief¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± She answers unflinchingly. I feel like I¡¯m starting to melt under the harsh, calculating gaze of her silver-gold eyes.

    ¡°Getting back to Arza, I¡¯m sure this is different from Anton, given you¡¯ve only recently described seeing all this blue around her¡­¡± Tiff steers the conversation back to the original topic, as the Chief finally frees me from her gaze.

    ¡°It is different. What concerns me more is she¡¯s supposed to be returning to the Wolf Pup¡¯s home tomorrow, but she seems to have no inclination towards doing that.¡± The Chief continues, drinking the last of her wine before setting down her empty mug.

    ¡°Well, after living in what I can only imagine as the comparative luxury of Haven, I¡¯m not surprised it¡¯s hard for her to just up and leave, even if she has a responsibility to the children under her care¡­¡± Tiff admits with a sheepish chuckle. It¡¯s not a light thing she¡¯s suggesting, but it¡¯s not entirely unreasonable to think of. Taking care of children is no easy feat, especially when you don¡¯t really have any breaks from it.

    ¡°The only two luxuries Haven has over her residence within the Wolf Pup¡¯s home of the Capital are my books, and the kitchen¡¯s cooking. She¡¯s somehow teleported entire rooms from her palatial homes down to the Abyss. Marble columns, stone floors, clean water, real beds with silk linens and more cushions than you could imagine. Luxury isn¡¯t the issue here.¡± The Chief refutes Tiff¡¯s point, given she¡¯s seen the luxury of Arza¡¯s Abyssal home herself.

    It¡¯s certainly not the comparative luxury that¡¯s distracting her. Nor does she seem the type to skirt her duties, no. It¡¯s something else on her mind. Something that likely has to do with that noise in the tunnels of the Capital.

    ¡°Do you remember what I told you and Rann about, Chief, the day we left the Capital to return to Haven?¡±

    ¡°... That thudding noise you talked about.¡± The Chief realises, sitting up. ¡°The heartbeat. Perhaps, of the Abyss itself.¡±

    ¡°The what of the Abyss?¡± Tiff blinks, still processing what she heard.

    ¡°If there¡¯s truly a physical origin of that noise, that she can hear underground near the Abyss¡¯ centre, but not near its edge in Haven, then¡­¡± The Chief furrows her brow, trying to wrap her head around this. ¡°If it¡¯s centrally located, near Dead Man¡¯s Dream¡­ perhaps, truly a physical heart, beating within the earth, imperceptible to most, but not to those with sensitive hearing¡­¡±

    ¡°Would you be so kind as to fill me in, Marina?¡± Tiff asks, looking at me with bewilderment at what the Chief is saying.

    ¡°When we were at the Wolf Pup¡¯s home, the Capital as they call it, in the Dead Hollows near Dead Man¡¯s Dream, the¡­ these sound ridiculous when I say them out loud. Who came up with these names?¡±

    ¡°Are they more ridiculous than the idea that the Abyss has a real, beating heart?¡± Tiff can¡¯t help but laugh a little at the incredulousness of the idea that the Chief and I are taking so seriously. It would be hard to take seriously, had you never heard it or been told of it before. At face value, a giant, beating heart buried beneath the earth sounds ridiculous.

    ¡°I know what I heard, Tiffany. I haven¡¯t the imagination to spin a tale of something so ghastly as that.¡± Arezza¡¯s calm, steady voice cuts through the conversation like a knife slicing through gossamer.

    Arezza¡¯s sudden appearance at the top of the stairs to the first floor stuns the Chief, Tiff, and I into silence. We were so engrossed in our conversation we never heard her enter the building, let alone walk up the stairs with Griffin silently following behind her.

    ¡°A-Arza! I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± Tiff laughs awkwardly, trying to backpedal from her previous statement. ¡°I just meant that¡­ um¡­ what could even have a heart so big in the first place? How could it be beating on its own if it¡¯s not in a body?¡±

    ¡°I believe you know the answer to that, Tiff.¡± The Chief speaks up, looking across at her.

    ¡°You can¡¯t mean¡­ actually¡­¡± The smile fades from Tiff¡¯s face as the realisation hits her.

    ¡°Arnar, I believe you call it.¡± Arezza answers. ¡°The War-Invader.¡±

    ¡°The true nature of the Gods is something scholars and theologians far more interested than myself have been arguing over for centuries. We know the Remembered Gods ¡°fell in battle¡±, but if they truly left their physical bodies behind in the Underlands¡­¡± The Chief leans back, musing through her thoughts. ¡°There¡¯s no evidence of a gargantuan body in the Abyss, but a beating heart, buried beneath the earth, empowered by the divine, maybe even shaping this pit we live in¡­ it¡¯s not a theory I¡¯d dismiss out of hand.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous, though. You said it yourself, there¡¯s no sign of a god-size corpse down here. How could a beating heart be buried beneath the earth? And if some form of divine will still remains here, truly shaping this wretched hole to be so miserable and punishing to live in, that¡¯s¡­¡± Tiff rises from her chair, trying to dispute the Chief¡¯s claims, regardless of how much sense it¡¯s starting to make.

    ¡°We¡¯ve discussed this before, Tiff. You yourself said he¡¯d certainly approve of this place, even if he didn¡¯t shape it. The latter may be more true than we had realised.¡± The Chief responds calmly.

    ¡°But that¡¯s¡­ are you kidding me? That¡­¡± Tiff struggles for words, almost staggering back into her chair.

    Another thing comes to mind from that conversation, that night. Tiff mentioned that she was born under ¡°his moon¡±. The month of Arnarsaga, or September. As one of the six Remembered Gods, Arnar is revered on Remsday, or Sunday. Just as my birth was considered auspicious, being born on the first Ainesday of Samhraine, being born on the first Remsday of any Remembered Gods¡¯ month is treated the same.

    ¡°Tiff, were you¡­¡±

    ¡°Born on the first Remsday of Arnarsaga, yes. The very first day of his moon. My mother died giving birth to me, so my father and I were all we had. The only hope we had was that my date of birth meant Arnar watched over us. Maybe he did. We never had a bad harvest, and the livestock we raised were so strong and healthy we sold some for profit. All we had to do was be strong in our heart, and Arnar would watch over us. My father told me that, every day. It¡¯s what he believed. It¡¯s what he kept on believing, even on that day he beat me a little too hard and I ended up down here. I was supposed to go to Arnar¡¯s embrace, the place where my mother waited for me and my father. When I ended up down here, I had to come to accept that I¡¯d failed Arnar, and my mother, and my father. Now you¡¯re telling me this hell-hole we may spend the rest of our lives trapped inside, full of monsters, bandits, blood rain and mud, THIS is Arnar¡¯s embrace?!¡± She found her words. And her temper, as her anger grows more and more as she speaks.

    ¡°Where we go after we die is only something we know for certain after the fact, Tiffany. Given our existence here proves the Underlands are real¡­ it¡¯s not unreasonable to think the Lands Above may exist, too.¡± The Chief says, keeping an even tone as she tries to calm Tiff.

    ¡°The Lands Above? Your gods do not reside in the Overlands alongside you?¡± Arezza asks.

    ¡°It¡¯s where we¡¯re supposed to go. Where we¡¯re promised to go, so long as we live according to the Gods¡¯ tenets. Obviously, I failed that, given I¡¯m here.¡± Tiff angrily responds.

    ¡°And why, exactly, would you want to go to the ¡°embrace¡± of your god, if your own father¡¯s belief in it led to him killing you? The War-Invader was said to be the most brutal of them all. Were they not stopped by my people at great cost, my people would have fallen into ruin, just as so many others fell beneath their iron fist.¡± Arezza continues, her voice and expression passive, but her choice of words tell she¡¯s not so passive on this subject.

    ¡°What would you know about my father¡¯s beliefs¡­¡± Tiff grits her teeth, clenching her fist as she stares down Arezza.

    ¡°I¡¯ve just never understood how the Damned still cling to their belief and loyalty towards their gods, even though, as the stories you tell yourselves go, ending up ¡°down here¡± is proof your god has scorned you.¡± Arezza tilts her head just slightly as she asks another question. It¡¯s hard to tell if she¡¯s asking sincerely, or asking out of cynicism or even mockery, paying no heed to any offence her words may cause. According to her, her people suffered greatly at the hands of Arnar; the War-Invader, as they called him. Why someone like Tiff would still pay any credence to their tenets is something she can¡¯t wrap her head around.

    It¡¯s obvious how Tiff took this, though.

    She lunged forward at Arezza, hands outstretched and aimed at her neck, as time seemed to slow to a crawl. Griffin, having stood by quietly as the conversation progressed, is now trying to push Arezza aside to protect her, as Arezza stands there silently as Tiff lunges at her. The Chief is rising from her chair, reaching for her staff with her golden chains at the ready, to seize Tiff before she can do anything.

    Neither of them reacted in time to stop her. Fortunately, my wings did, as the left wing raced out from under my cloak to its full length, blocking Tiff from Arezza.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Time catches back up, and Tiff is stopped in her tracks as she crashes face-first into my outstretched wing, letting out an ineffectual grunt, and getting a mouthful of feathers before she falls back onto the floor.

    ¡°Tiff!¡± The Chief pants, relaxing her grip on her staff now that Tiff¡¯s no longer threatening Arezza. ¡°What the hells were you-¡±

    Before the Chief can finish her sentence, Tiff already got back on her feet, pushed past Arezza, Griffin, and I, bolted down the stairs, and ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

    ¡°... I¡­¡± Arezza''s voice shakes, clutching her hand to her chest with her wings slinking low by her sides, before taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. ¡°I appear to have offended her quite severely, haven¡¯t I¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s no excuse for her attacking you, Your Majesty!¡± Griffin growls, turning his ire on the Chief. ¡°You promised Her Majesty¡¯s safety, Chief of Haven, yet did nothing to stop her being attacked by one of your own people!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t need to. Marina took care of that.¡± The Chief replied curtly, answering Griffin¡¯s glare with her own. Griffin backs down.

    ¡°Though¡­¡± She sighs, slumping back down on her chair. ¡°I should have intervened sooner. I saw the leaves turning auburn, yet let her go too far¡­¡±

    ¡°The fault is with me, Chief Lichtrufer. In my cynicism, I kept probing her belief with questions even as she grew more upset¡­¡± Arezza says meekly. Her passivity has crumbled, as her worries and regrets rise to the surface.

    The Chief sits upright in her chair, her gaze scanning the three of us left in the room with her before she speaks, gesturing to Tiff¡¯s vacated chair. ¡°Sit.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ shouldn¡¯t we go after Tiff¡­?¡± Arezza asks concernedly, pointing towards the stairs.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be alright, she just needs some time to herself. We were talking about you before you entered, anyway. Come, sit. And thank you, Marina.¡± The Chief gives me a nod as Arezza sits down in Tiff¡¯s chair.

    ¡°I did hear some of what you said, yes, not that I meant to eavesdrop. You have been gracious hosts, so it is only right that I am honest with you. You are right. I can¡¯t hear that thudding noise in Haven. This past week is the best sleep I¡¯ve had since I ended up in the Abyss, because I can¡¯t hear that noise.¡± Arezza sighs quietly, resting her hands in her lap. ¡°It¡¯s ridiculous, I know, and I have no intention of just abandoning the Wolf Pups in the Capital. It¡¯s just¡­ I could never truly settle, hearing that noise. That dull heartbeat, buried beneath the earth¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not unreasonable to be unnerved by such a noise. Beating hearts aren¡¯t supposed to be buried within the ground, not in either of our worlds. Hearing it could unnerve anyone. I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t raise a greater issue over it while we were there, Marina.¡± The Chief glances across at me.

    ¡°I could only hear it if I really focused on it. Otherwise it blended into the background noise and didn¡¯t trouble me too much, thankfully.¡±

    ¡°What is this¡­ Arnar, the War-Invader, like? I don¡¯t understand how someone like Tiff would care about them so much¡­¡± Arezza asks tepidly.

    ¡°Arnar is both complicated, and not. As far as the divine go, he¡¯s impartial to the extreme. He offers strength to those he believes worthy of it, no matter if they¡¯re an honourable knight or a bloodthirsty brigand. The weak fear adversity, the strong revel in it. The flames of war forge the strongest steel, and the greatest of warriors can accomplish anything with nothing but their own strength. Conflict is the true natural order and to resist it is foolishness¡­ is how his fervent followers tell it. In my honest opinion, he promotes personal strength, and loathes cowardice. Though she didn¡¯t mention it, according to scripture, Arnar would have honoured Tiff¡¯s mother just as he would a warrior, for death in childbirth is considered equivalent to death on the battlefield. He can represent very different things to very different people.¡± The Chief explains.

    ¡°What bearing would a god of war have on everyday life, though? If you don¡¯t mind me asking.¡± Arezza frowns, asking further questions.

    ¡°It¡¯s perhaps better understood when he¡¯s paired with his brother, the God of Peace, Axel. Some find their relation strange in our world, too, how the gods of opposing factors could be close brothers. I asked this question of my tutor myself, once. They are best understood through the lens of conflict. Conflict is often violent, but it drives change and innovation. A lack of conflict allows growth, but it can stagnate if left unchanged. Of course, this was an academic¡¯s opinion of it. A general would have a different opinion, as would a barbarian. The Gods are known all over the world, and have many names and many faces in the many peoples of the world. There are naturally some who think their way of understanding their God is the only way and any other way is heresy, but I¡¯ve never cared that much to argue over which view of a god is the correct one.¡± She continues with her explanation, as Arezza eagerly listens on.

    ¡°I see¡­ then, do either of you favour one of your gods over the others? Do you have a god, Griffin?¡± Arezza asks the three of us.

    ¡°No.¡± Griffin answers bluntly. ¡°Never cared for them. They¡¯re no use here.¡± Depending on how old he was when he came to the Abyss, he may have been too young to be taught of them.

    ¡°My home country of Drachenkoenig reveres Turona, Remembered Goddess of Fire, above all others. Drachenkoenig is located in the north of our world; so far north it should be buried in snow year-round, were it not for Turona¡¯s fires warming our hearths and her blessed Great Flame at the centre of the capital, holding back the bitter cold of the Remembered Goddess of Winter, Morgana. Given I don¡¯t enjoy freezing to death, I do give thanks to Turona for keeping our homes warm.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°The Goddess of Winter¡­ you mean, the Winter-Invader? The Winter¡¯s Heart?¡± Something clicks in Arezza¡¯s mind, and the Chief nods.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve read of the northern sump, Snowbleak, and how its oppressive winters spread further south every year. If the Red Abyss is the result of Arnar¡¯s fall, according to those theories, Snowbleak may be the result of Morgana¡¯s.¡± She comments, nodding thoughtfully. If this blood-drenched hole we¡¯re stuck in is because of the God of War, then a snow-covered place where it¡¯s always winter may be the result of the Goddess of Winter. She is one of the Remembered, after all.

    ¡°I was born on the Ruling Goddess of Summer Aine¡¯s holy day; the first Ainesday of Samhraine, in summer. The Goddess of Summer is popular in my home country, with its warm weather year-round. Though, I guess I¡¯m in the same boat as Tiff. Being born on a God¡¯s ¡°holy day¡± didn¡¯t do me any good if I¡¯m down here.¡±

    ¡°Why do you call some of them Ruling and others Remembered? What differentiates them?¡± The more answers we give, the more questions she has. It¡¯s understandable, given that the Underlanders don¡¯t have ¡°gods¡± in the sense that we do, and the fact that half our gods perished here.

    ¡°It separates those Gods whose physical forms exist in the Heavens of the Lands Above, and those Gods who exist in the Heavens of the Lands Above only in spirit. Though the Remembered Gods have long since lost their physical forms, their power and minds still remain intact, and they are still worshipped alongside the Ruling members of the pantheon.¡± I quoted that verbatim from a textbook I read, but it¡¯s the same explanation that helped me understand the Gods when I was growing up.

    ¡°Back to the issue at hand. Arza. Will you be returning to the Capital tomorrow, as planned?¡± The Chief clears her throat.

    ¡°I will be, yes.¡± Arezza nods calmly. ¡°I apologise for my errant behaviour over the past few days. I admit, my mind has been elsewhere, and it has distracted me from my duties.¡±

    ¡°Your only duty here was teaching Marina how to fly, which you have done every day without fail. You have more than earned some rest, Arza.¡± The Chief answers, surprising Arezza.

    ¡°You mean¡­ You agreed to allow me to visit Haven so I could¡­ rest?¡± Arezza blinks in disbelief.

    ¡°That was simply one of the many factors I took into consideration when I made my decision.¡± The Chief shrugs lightly, her eyes closed. ¡°It just so happened that I didn¡¯t give you many responsibilities other than seeing Haven for yourself. I have no doubt you were always busy back in the Capital.¡±

    ¡°She certainly has an obtuse way of being kind, doesn¡¯t she?¡± Arezza giggles at me, drawing an annoyed one-eyed glare from the Chief.

    ¡°What matters is that she¡¯s kind, not the way that she shows it.¡± I laugh it off as best I can.

    ¡°Will Tiffany be okay, though¡­? I must apologise to her for what I said earlier¡­¡± Arezza asks again, frowning in concern.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be alright, as I said. She just needs some time. Come, it¡¯s lunch time, and I missed breakfast this morning. Let¡¯s get something to eat.¡± The Chief stands, moving towards the stairs.

    The rest of us stand, as Arezza and Griffin head down the stairs. I go to join them, only for the Chief to quietly put her arm in front of me.

    ¡°In the cellars. Go down twenty paces, take the entrance to the right, and keep moving right until the cave opens up to the sky. You¡¯ll know you¡¯re headed in the right direction if you hear running water.¡± She says, quiet enough that only I can hear.

    ¡°Is that where Tiff is? Shouldn¡¯t you go see her?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not the best at handling people when they¡¯re upset.¡± She sighs, looking crestfallen for a moment. ¡°She trusts you. Just check on her for me, okay?¡±

    ¡°Alright. Just get me something for lunch too, please.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get you your bloodbeast gravy sandwich.¡± She rolls her eyes, but smiles.

    ¡°We need to think of a better name than ¡°bloodbeast¡±... it¡¯s not exactly appetising.¡±

    ¡°If you can think of a better one, I¡¯m all ears.¡± She calls from the bottom of the stairs.

    I swear I¡¯ve heard that line before. Was it from Rann? Well, anyway. She asked me to check on Tiff, so that''s what I¡¯ll do. If she is where the Chief said she¡¯d be.

    ¡­

    The Cellars. The name given to the cave system at one end of Haven. It¡¯s where underground vegetables and mushrooms are grown, mud is gathered for making pottery, and people who misbehave are thrown into to reflect on their actions. I was apparently supposed to end up down here when I was first brought to Haven; a fate I managed to avoid.

    It¡¯s also worth mentioning that this is the quiet end of town most people don¡¯t visit often, down past the farms. Because this is where the tannery and the blacksmith is.

    And the combined smell of heavy earth, soot, crap, and urine is eye-watering, to say the least.

    But I have a mission from the Chief, and I push forward, holding my nose as best I can.

    Thankfully, the smells coming from the tannery and blacksmith disappear not long after I enter the Cellars, replaced with that earthy, wet cave smell. Surprisingly, the air isn¡¯t stagnant down here like I thought it would be, but I¡¯m given the reason for that as the narrow cave path suddenly opens up before me.

    A large subterranean space, nearly as big as the tavern with a long slope spiralling around the walls to the ground appears before me, with several caves running off in different directions. The space is lit with well-maintained torches, casting an orange glow over the stacks and stacks of wooden boxes on the floor. Dozens of them, with only half of them having been opened. Some of the opened crates have practically rotted away to nothing, but the others look almost brand new.

    The crate immediately to my left contains several bags of what looks to be flour. Other boxes have simple tools within them, clothes, even books. These are supplies. Loads of them. Likely brought down when Haven was established. It¡¯s so surprising to see all this stuff that I haven¡¯t noticed the guard standing to my right.

    ¡°Yo, Marina. What brings you down here?¡± The guard asks casually.

    ¡°W-What the?!¡± I nearly jump out of my skin, my wings panicking and racing out of my cloak only to hit the cave walls, trying to see who¡¯s¡­ oh.

    ¡°Kazuma?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Kazuma here.¡± He answers glibly.

    ¡°What are you¡­ oh, right. You¡¯re a guard, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Guard Kazuma here. On Cellar duty. What brings you down here? If you¡¯ve gotten on the wrong side of the Chief, the cells are over there.¡± He points to one of the smaller caves on the ground floor, and the iron grate door standing in its entrance. So there are cells here. Huh.

    ¡°No, but I am here on her behest, uh¡­ you haven¡¯t seen Tiff come down here, have you?¡±

    ¡°She went round to the right, near where the Crystalfall runs underground. Keep to your right and you¡¯ll find it.¡± He points out, helpfully this time.

    ¡°Thanks, Kazuma.¡±

    Round the right I go, just out of sight of Kazuma.

    Alright, wings. Why didn¡¯t you tell me he was there? You rarely have trouble informing me of strangers in my presence that I haven¡¯t noticed yet, but this has happened before with others. What gives?

    They just shrug, as usual, before slinking back under my cloak out of what I hope is embarrassment. So they don¡¯t have a reason. Maybe they just don¡¯t inform me of people they don¡¯t register as a threat. Kazuma¡¯s never come across as particularly threatening.

    Anyway. Resuming my journey, I follow along the narrow path as it snakes upwards through the earth. The darkness quickly returns as I move away from that large underground space, but the growing noise of flowing water tells me I¡¯m going the right way.

    It¡¯s not long before the cave gives away to the open sky; a small opening right up against the black cliffs, only accessible from underground. The clear waters of the Crystalfall race by in a shallow stream along the cliff face, snaking around to the left and disappearing underground. Where the water¡¯s end truly lies, who knows. What¡¯s important is that Tiff is sitting on the water¡¯s edge, silently watching it go by as I sit down beside her.

    ¡°So, she sent you to check on me.¡± Tiff sighs quietly, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them. ¡°She knows how to delegate.¡±

    ¡°She said herself she¡¯s not good at handling people when they¡¯re upset.¡±

    ¡°No, she isn¡¯t, despite her best efforts. It¡¯s one of her few shortcomings. Despite the fact that she can read people like almost no one else can¡­¡± Tiff smiles to herself, before letting out another sigh as she stares down at the passing stream.

    ¡°Winter¡¯s wrath has stripped your tree, and you¡¯re waiting for the blossom of spring.¡±

    ¡°When did you become a poet?¡± She cocks an eyebrow as she gives me a sideways look.

    ¡°The way she describes how she sees people lends itself well to poetry. Besides, many of our instruments went to bards, musicians, composers; the poetic types.¡± I shrug lightly. It just came to me on the spot.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve checked up on me. Go and tell her I¡¯ll be fine; I¡¯ll just keep to myself before dinner.¡± She waves me off, returning her gaze to the stream. She knew why the Chief sent me here.

    ¡°Are you fine, though?¡±

    ¡°I said I¡¯ll be fine, not that I am fine.¡± She responds, her eyes fixed on the water.

    There¡¯s more she wants to say. I¡¯ll sit by quietly as she finds her words.

    Some minutes pass, how long, I can¡¯t say for certain. This is the perfect little hideaway to be alone in, tucked away in the Cellars. Only one way in, hidden from sight; just you, the waters of the Crystalfall, and the towering black cliffs silently looming over you. It makes you feel small, but safe. Safe, where no-one can hurt you.

    It¡¯s difficult to tell how deep the stream actually is; the water¡¯s so clear you can see straight to its black, rocky bed. You just sit and watch; you don¡¯t even think of touching it, lest you disturb its calm, even surface. It winds around us from the left, coming right up against the cliff before turning downwards, disappearing near the cave¡¯s wall beneath the surface. The opening above the cave is just large enough to let through the clouded natural light that reaches the Abyss, but if pure sunshine could reach this far down, no doubt the water would reflect brilliantly across the walls, lighting up this little cave hidden away from the world.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what came over me, to be completely honest. I¡¯m not a priest, nor a zealot by any means. I only believed because my dad did. Yet, I wanted to just grab her neck and squeeze. I got so angry so quickly. Not for myself, but for my father. The father that killed me. The father that¡­ I still love, even after what he did to me.¡± Tiff begins to speak. I let her continue.

    ¡°I still can¡¯t imagine what it¡¯s like; gaining a child, but losing your spouse. We only know what we know. I only knew what I knew, growing up without a mother. My father would speak of her every day. Tell me about how she smiled, what her laugh sounded like, her favourite food, and the promise he made to her to raise me, even as she was dying in his arms. At least, my father seemed to take genuine solace that my mother had gone to Arnar¡¯s embrace. War God or no, being shepherded by a God to the afterlife was more comforting than falling to oblivion, let alone going to Hell¡­¡± She chuckles mockingly at her own expense. ¡°His daughter, so blessed by Arnar he said, certainly didn¡¯t go to heaven.¡±

    ¡°My birth was blessed by Aine, yet here I am alongside you. I¡¯ve started to think¡­ either the Gods just don¡¯t care, or their blessings never meant much to begin with.¡±

    ¡°Yet their curses are no less potent.¡± Tiff leans back, looking up at the cliff before us. ¡°After all, we¡¯re trapped in one.¡±

    ¡°If we are truly within the remains of the God of War, that just leaves me with one question.¡±

    ¡°Why would a God of War only resurrect the souls of children.¡± She answers.

    ¡°And why has it changed from what it once was, resurrecting or rebirthing people regardless of age¡­¡±

    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why I reacted the way I did. I knew¡­ or I thought I knew Arnar. He¡¯s stoic and tough, promotes strength and loathes cowardice. I was growing up strong and healthy, and I felt my dad and I could do anything together if we gave it our all. Arnar is harsh, but fair. But, dragging children down to this miserable hole, full of monsters and dangers around every corner, it¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Cruel.¡± I finish for her.

    ¡°The Arnar I know wasn¡¯t cruel. He didn¡¯t care who he gave his strength to, but he was never callous. Maybe we are, truly, standing on his remains. But whatever power has taken control over the Abyss¡­ it isn¡¯t Arnar.¡±

    ¡°Then what could it be?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Tiff shakes her head. ¡°But if it has a beating heart¡­ it¡¯s definitely alive.¡±

    ¡°Well. You know the saying. If it bleeds, we can kill it.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know that saying.¡± Tiff blinks in disbelief. ¡°Where did the daughter of a luthier hear something so brutal?¡±

    ¡°A-ah¡­ it was¡­ in an adventurer¡¯s novel I read once about people hunting a monster only to find out that they were the hunted all along. I just thought it sounded cool.¡±

    ¡°I suppose so.¡± Tiff giggles, standing and stretching her legs. ¡°We should head back¡­ I need to apologise to Arza for lunging at her like that. She was just asking questions about things she has a different view on. No real reason for me to see red and attack her¡­¡±

    ¡°Arza wants to apologise too. She realised she went too far after you left.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯ll be an apology over lunch. Running all the way here worked up my appetite.¡± Tiff grins, back to her usual self.

    I can almost see the bright green leaves of spring begin to sprout from her cold winter branches as her smile lights up the cave.

 Chapter Thirty-Four

    It¡¯s the day after Arza, Mole, Rabbit, and Griffin had left to return to the Capital, and Haven has been abuzz with activity ever since.

    There¡¯s expansion work to be done, after all. Much to the delight of the elder children, plans for the second bunkhouse have been finalised, and a block at the end of Crystal Road is being cleared in preparation.

    Everyone age fifteen and over has been mobilised for the effort. The man with the most work on his hands is Marcus, Haven¡¯s carpenter, who¡¯s one of the older residents of Haven, looking like he¡¯s a few years older than Rann. While the Chief had been entrusted with overseeing the plans he drew up for the bunkhouse, any new building needs furniture. In this case, beds. Lots of them. New desks for the schoolhouse, new chairs, a new table and new benches for the tavern. Not to mention the need for more cutlery and more clothes to accommodate the expected growth in Haven¡¯s population.

    To my surprise, one of the things that didn¡¯t need to be made was blankets; the wooden crates stored in the Cellars had plenty of them, still in pristine condition despite being over a hundred years old. Apparently, the wood they¡¯re made from is so solid that when sealed the crate is airtight, so the goods held inside are in good condition. In fact, the majority of the otherwise out-of-place items in Haven came from those crates. All the books, the metal tools, nails, bedsheets, some items of clothing, an anvil, metal weapons, the seeds for the farm, even the four clocks around Haven were all brought down here in those wooden crates, and we¡¯re still surviving thanks to them, even a hundred years later. Arza had noticed these clocks around town, and after checking one of them, she asserted that they¡¯re absolutely Azorii-made, which is why they¡¯ve lasted so long without any maintenance. It seems Azorii craftsmanship (or craftswomanship? They are an all-female race...) is a cut above the rest in this world.

    Everyone in Haven had a job to do, and they set about doing them with vigour. The town hasn¡¯t been this lively since the day we brought back the bloodbeast we hunted. The younger children are excited at the prospect for new friends coming to stay. The older residents look forward to having more helping hands around town, to pass on their skills and wisdom. The expedition team will likely be heading out more often to link up with the Wolf Pups bringing rescued children to Haven, and there may even be a second team established for such a duty.

    There will be a tighter squeeze on our resources, of course. While clean water is plentiful, food has always been carefully rationed to make sure there¡¯s enough to go around. As it stands, we¡¯ve cultivated as much farmland as will fit within the walls of Haven. There has been a recent effort to start vegetable gardens around some of the homes where fertile soil is available, but in the long term, we may have to expand Haven¡¯s walls themselves, beyond the natural gate formed by the black rocks that surround most of the town nestled up against the cliff.

    Though, hopefully, we¡¯ll have found a way out of this hell-hole before such an expansion would be necessary.

    Now, where do I, an able-bodied young woman, fit into the flurry of work being done around town?

    Lookout duty on a logging mission outside Haven, of course. Thanks to the heightened senses my wings give me, I¡¯m quite good at sensing when strangers are near. At least, that''s what I¡¯ve been told. I feel like, by now, just as many people have snuck up on me as I have noticed other¡¯s presence before I saw them. Regardless, I¡¯ve been sent out with a small group of mostly men and the older teenage boys while they chop timber for the new bunkhouse. We¡¯re about an hour¡¯s walk south of Haven, deep enough south to be within the borders of the southern mud pine forest. We brought the same heavy sled we used for the bloodbeast hunt to drag the timber back to Haven.

    Now, they¡¯re called mud pines because they look like pine trees, but their leaves or needles rather are the same reddy-brown as the mud that coats the Abyss. As far as trees down here go, these are almost, almost, normal. No leering faces, no spiked roots, no carnivorous creatures pretending to be trees. They¡¯re pretty straight, just like regular pine trees. The only thing weird about them is that their ¡°bark¡± is just¡­ mud, basically. That¡¯s actually why they¡¯re called mud pines; their bark is soft and sticky and earthy like the mud. You peel that off and there¡¯s perfectly good timber underneath, but if this place follows the laws of evolution, I don¡¯t know why trees would develop soft bark that gouges and can be scraped off easily.

    Why do I know so much about these trees? I read about them in my down time back home, as per the Chief¡¯s recommended readings now that I¡¯m more or less an official member of the expeditionary team, and I¡¯ve been staring at them for the past several hours on lookout duty. The woodcutters don¡¯t really need my help moving the timber; Rob¡¯s here, and he can carry them over his shoulder like they don¡¯t weigh anything. Most of the work is cleaning the gunk off the fallen trees so they can be put onto the sled.

    While I¡¯m sure there are still plenty of things in this world, or even just the Abyss that¡¯ll surprise, shock, or turn my whole world upside down, now that I¡¯ve just come to accept that things here a wildly different and I have a very tenuous baseline assumption for what things are, it¡¯s somewhat easier to mentally process everything and just move along with doing what I need to do. Yeah, the trees have faces. The trees try to eat you. It gets pretty tiring freaking out over every crazy, nonsensical little thing, so eventually it all becomes normal to you, even as part of your brain is curled up in the corner sobbing how ¡°nothing makes sense.¡± The rest of your brain just gets on with it. When the fact that nothing makes sense makes sense, it stops being a problem and just becomes one of those ordinary things that are just a fact of life you never pay more than a moment¡¯s notice to.

    I¡¯ve read about the banality of evil, though, not in this life, of course; how ordinary people can take part in atrocities if it¡¯s just their everyday job, if they believe they¡¯re just following the law, doing their job, unaware or not caring about what they¡¯re doing. I¡¯d like to introduce its cousin: the mundanity of insanity. When insanity and madness become commonplace, it stops triggering the alarm bells in your head. Your baseline understanding of what¡¯s ¡°normal¡± changes to adapt to your abnormal situation. The sky is usually blue. It gets dark at night, gets grey when it¡¯s cloudy, and is all types of oranges and yellows when the sun rises or sets. If the sky suddenly turns black in the middle of the day, or the clouds glow red, you start to freak out. If it stays that way, though, you just get used to it; it becomes another mundane, insane fact of life. The mundanity of insanity. Not as catchy as the banality of evil, but hey, mine rhymes.

    Though, I won¡¯t have much of an opportunity to publish my theory on the mundanity of insanity as long as I¡¯m stuck in this hell-hole.

    Gods, I¡¯m so bored.

    ¡°You still awake over there, Feathers? Been real quiet while we¡¯re bustin¡¯ our asses over here.¡± Johnny calls, grunting with effort as he takes measured swings at a mud pine¡¯s trunk.

    ¡®I¡¯m on lookout duty. I¡¯m supposed to be looking out, not having a chat.¡±

    ¡°D¡¯you even need to be lookin¡¯ out? Don¡¯t ya wings do that for you, like how they picked up on the Crow kid followin¡¯ us?¡± He asks.

    ¡°We¡¯re making a lot of noise out here. Don¡¯t you want my full attention to stay on our surroundings so we can move out if something¡¯s moving towards us?¡±

    ¡°Ahhh, ain¡¯t nothin¡¯ but us out here this far southwest. You just don¡¯t wanna get mud all over your pretty hands.¡± Johnny groans, wiping the ¡°mud¡± off the trunk he just felled.

    Oh, one more thing about these mud pines; they stink like tar. Actually, if they are somehow related to pine trees, then it may actually be a form of pine tar all over their trunks. Either way, it¡¯s sticky, and it stinks, so I¡¯m not complaining about not having to touch it.

    ¡°She¡¯s doing the job Rann told her to do. You¡¯re not doing yours. Back t¡¯work.¡± Rob steps in, refocusing Johnny¡¯s attention.

    ¡°I¡¯m doin¡¯ my job just fine, big guy. Just gets monotonous choppin¡¯ wood, wiping all this stinkin¡¯ mud off, over and over til we load up the sled and head back home. Hopefully, it¡¯ll be the only trip we make.¡± Johnny continues to voice his complaints, but he is still doing his work.

    ¡°I like th¡¯ monotony. ¡®S calming.¡± Rob sighs glumly, getting back to work.

    We¡¯ve been at the logging site for about an hour, and the sled¡¯s half-loaded already. I will have to help pull it back, but that¡¯s frankly the easy part.

    Though, a logging site leaves a lot of evidence of human activity. It may be a few days before the rains come to wash away the very obvious sled tracks that¡¯ll lead right back to Haven. That doesn¡¯t seem to be a concern, though, this side of the Seeping Wound. Few people head this far west in the Abyss. I don¡¯t blame them, given there¡¯s the Bloody Mire up north, and much of the south is mud pine forests, and well¡­

    This place stinks, in a very literal sense. I understand why people generally don¡¯t come this far west. Not to mention the Ghostwood up north or the Stonefields¡­ everywhere here is either stinky, or creepy. Were it not for the cool breeze the Crystalfall brings rushing down the cliffs, Haven would probably smell just as bad.

    Still, I was put on lookout duty. Looking out is what I¡¯ll do.

    ¡­

    ¡°Feathers.¡± Johnny¡¯s voice pulls my attention back to reality, as he shoves a bread roll in front of my face; my lunch for today.

    ¡°Ah, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Dunno why Rann decided we needed a lookout for some woodcuttin¡¯. Not like we¡¯ve been bothered out here before.¡± Johnny shrugs, sitting down across from me on a mostly dry stump.

    ¡°Well, we were followed all the way back to Haven after the last hunt. Doesn¡¯t hurt to be cautious.¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t in the mud pine forests last time. In case ya haven¡¯t noticed, this place stinks worse than the south side docks in Newport after the trawlers have come in. That¡¯s a smell that¡¯ll stay with ya long after it¡¯s gone.¡±

    I imagine the smell of salt and fish. Can be unpleasant, especially depending on the state of the fish. Though at this rate, I might just take anything over this pine-tar stench that¡¯s been burning my nostrils for the past couple hours. I¡¯m going to bury my nose in the first soft-looking thing I see when I get back¡­

    ¡°I miss it, in a way.¡±

    ¡°Smell of the sea? You musta been pretty close to the coast if you lived in Sovrana.¡± He clues in pretty quickly. ¡°Yeah. I never much liked fish. Or boats. Never thought I¡¯d miss the sight and smell of ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°I imagine we¡¯re a long way from the sea, wherever it is in this world.¡±

    ¡°Longer than ya think, Feathers. This whole continent we¡¯re in¡¯s just one big circle. No inland seas, just a few rivers ¡®round the place. Seafarin¡¯s not something the natives of this place do.¡±

    ¡°I read in one of the more interesting books in the library that the Damned used to think we¡¯d just been sent to the far side of the world, and that if we crossed the seas we could find our way back home. That theory died out after people from the New World started turning up in the Underlands, proving we probably are in another world altogether.¡±

    ¡°I dunno how they ever could have thought that. Back home we had one moon, not three. Can see that clear enough, even down here.¡± Johnny looks up to the overcast sky.

    At night, you do get occasional glimpses of the three moons. Tun, Kin, and Yan, they¡¯re called. Tun is the biggest, known as the Pale White for its colour. Kin is the Golden Glow, the second largest. Then there¡¯s Yan, the Callous Red, the smallest, and what would otherwise be called a blood moon. Tun¡¯s lunar month is only slightly longer than that of the moon back home, which makes timekeeping easy enough, especially considering how Kin¡¯s is much longer, and Yan¡¯s is almost the entire year, including the one night a year when it¡¯s the only moon in the night sky, casting its red light on the world below.

    ¡°What was it like, in the New World? I heard all kinds of stories from people who say they¡¯ve been there.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah? What kinda stories?¡±

    ¡°Temple-cities filled with more gold than you can ever imagine? Defended by¡­ lizardmen? Dragon-folk?¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Hah!¡± Johnny laughs. ¡°Tell ya what, I ain¡¯t no explorer, Feathers, but I¡¯ve seen enough scaly pelts bought and sold around Newport to know that at least some of the tales those explorin¡¯ types like to spin are true. Fortunately for us Newporters, those places are a ways off from us. Far enough that they don¡¯t give us trouble on the daily.¡±

    ¡°What, lizard scales but no gold?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what they always say. There¡¯s so much gold they can¡¯t possibly bring it back all at once. Not that they ever brought back more than a trinket or two to show off.¡± He shrugs, taking another bite from his bread roll.

    ¡°Did you see much of the New World itself?¡±

    ¡°Me? Nah. Newport had plenty of things to do, with the city growin¡¯ bigger every day. Besides, all that lay beyond city limits was the jungle. And lemme tell you this, Feathers; while there wasn¡¯t no lizardmen anywhere near the city, there¡¯s plenty of other things in the jungle that¡¯ll kill ya. Some fast, quick as an instant, others¡­ slow, an¡¯ nasty.¡±

    ¡°Sounds about as pleasant as this pit we¡¯ve found ourselves stuck in¡­¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but we had a lot of learned types ¡®round Newport, studyin¡¯ whatever explorers bring back. There ain¡¯t no books tellin¡¯ you what to expect in the Abyss. Only experience, of others or yourselves, teaches that.¡±

    We stop talking, for a while, just silently eating our lunch while keeping our eyes on the featureless, still forest. If something approaches us, there¡¯s no way we won¡¯t see it.

    ¡°So, what was things like, over in Sovrana?¡± Johnny asks, breaking the silence.

    ¡°Peaceful, mostly. Occasional duels here and there, but war was a ¡°foreign thing¡±, especially when there was money to be made.¡±

    ¡°You get to travel much? Heard you could read Drachenkoenig pretty good.¡±

    ¡°Drachensprache, yes. I¡¯d never been there, but I had a cousin there I exchanged letters with. As for travelling, I never went further than the borders of the Empire, but I saw a fair few country estates and urban mansions. Even went to the Imperial Capital a couple times in my life.¡±

    ¡°All the way to the Capital?¡± Johnny cocks an eyebrow, leaning towards me. ¡°What¡¯s the big city like? People from there who made it to Newport wouldn¡¯t shut up about how Newport was a tiny village compared to the Capital.¡±

    ¡°I first went there when I was young with my sisters and father, and all I can remember is thinking how big everything was. The second time, I was eleven, travelling alone with my father as he personally delivered an instrument to a client. That time, I thought we¡¯d gone to the wrong city with how different everything looked, how different everything¡­ smelled. Turned out it was still the Capital, just we¡¯d gone through it a different way, and had wound through the lower districts. The less¡­ well-off districts.¡±

    ¡°The not-crazy-rich districts you mean. Yeah, don¡¯t sound all that different from Newport. There was a big hill the rich loved buildin¡¯ their mansions on, away from the stink comin¡¯ out from the harbour. They love being close to the centre of power, but.¡±

    ¡°Not so close they can smell it?¡± I finished for him.

    ¡°I mean, the choices you had were smellin¡¯ of shit and piss, or smellin¡¯ of salt and fish. The rich didn¡¯t have ta make that choice. Me? Salt and fish. Any day.¡±

    I laugh, even as my nostrils flare at imagining¡­ well, remembering the smell that lingers when large numbers of humans live close together with limited access to clean water, let alone hygiene products of any kind. Thank the gods the Chief is so particular on keeping things clean. I do my part to keep myself clean, as does everyone else, following the Chief¡¯s example (and a few warnings here and there.) Thanks to the clean water that Arezza provides the Wolf Pups, they were able to stay clean and healthy, too. Yet that powerful stench of body odour, human excrement, and general filth isn¡¯t something you soon forget. It¡¯s like it¡¯s right in front of me¡­

    Because it is.

    Standing just a few dozen steps in front of me is undoubtedly another human, filthy and dishevelled as they are. Long, black hair that hasn¡¯t ever been washed comes down to their shoulders, concealing half their bearded face as their wide, vacant red eyes stare at me. What¡¯s left of their clothes are rags barely holding together, with their arms, hands, and feet covered in reddish mud that¡¯s permanently stained their skin. I didn¡¯t hear him approaching. I didn¡¯t see him approaching. I didn¡¯t get that alarm in my head when someone¡¯s close like I did before, but I certainly noticed them before Johnny did.

    I jump to my feet, grabbing the spear and going to point it towards the man, but he scarpers in the opposite direction as fast as he can the moment I move, quickly vanishing amidst the trees.

    ¡°Who, or what the hell was that?!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s probably thinkin¡¯ the same thing, Feathers. ¡®Specially with ya wings out like that.¡± Johnny comments nonchalantly.

    My wings? Ah. Both wings had raced out from under my cloak as I stood, reaching out to their full length with their eight blades drawn. He¡¯s gone now, wings. You¡­ we can calm down.

    Still.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll have to answer for him, Johnny. Who or what the hell was that?¡±

    ¡°Just a wildling, from the looks of him. Don¡¯t see ¡®em too often, ¡®specially not ¡®round here. Doubt he¡¯ll be comin¡¯ back here after seein¡¯ you like that.¡± He shrugs, standing up and stretching his legs.

    ¡°You mean that was a person? Someone else in the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°There ain¡¯t any people-shaped monsters down ¡®ere, Feathers. ¡®Cept maybe you. Wildlings don¡¯t bother with groups, anyway, too dangerous. He won¡¯t be back.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure he won¡¯t try to follow us?¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s your job making sure he doesn¡¯t, ain¡¯t it?¡± Johnny just grins, standing up and heading back to work.

    ¡°What? Do you want me to make sure he¡¯s run off or something?¡±

    ¡°Somethin¡¯ like that.¡± Johnny calls back, waving over his shoulder.

    Gods¡­ well, I know where everyone is. Easy to hear them, now that they¡¯re chopping wood again.

    In his hurry, the wildling man left wide, skidding footprints as he ran off through the mud. He was smart enough not to run straight, zig-zagging between the trees, but his tracks are still clear. I follow them for some fifty paces, but they just stretch deeper eastward into the forest.

    Johnny¡¯s probably right. The sight of a human with bladed wings probably scared the hell out of him, and he ran away as fast as he can. He¡¯s long gone, and won¡¯t be coming back. I¡¯ll head back¡ª

    <<BEHIND>>

    ¡ªis what I thought. The second I turned around, that alarm went off in my head, and I spun back around to where I was just looking, my wings helping, or rather pushing me around as they rushed outwards and upwards. The wildling was running straight for me, screaming at the top of his lungs, holding a large wooden club above his head with the intent to bring it crashing down on me. I can barely point my spear towards him in time, but¡ªdo I strike to kill? I can¡¯t block a club with a spear, the only way to stop him is to stab him. Do I kill him? He¡¯s clearly trying to kill me, or at least injure me since he¡¯s definitely attacking me, but I haven¡¯t, I can¡¯t just kill someone, can¡ª

    Were it not for my wings, I¡¯d be dead. Or at the very least, suffering a severe head injury.

    In my hesitation, the wildling had closed the distance between us, and tried to bring his club down on my head, only to find it stopped in its tracks as my right wing lifted to block it, impaling it on all four blades. The wildling tries to pull it free, to no luck, as the blades shift, bend slightly, then snap the club clean in two, each half falling to the ground with a wet thud.

    ¡°M¡­ M-mm¡­¡± The wildling stutters with a deep, hoarse voice, staggering backwards in disbelief. ¡°Monster!!¡±

    He screams, turning back in a hurry to run deeper into the forest.

    ¡°Marina!¡± Johnny calls from behind me. Somehow, I instinctively dodge to the left, as an axe flies right past me, hitting the tree right in front of the wildling.

    The wildling lets out another shriek of terror, before bolting in the other direction, disappearing into the woods once again.

    ¡°Well.¡± Johnny chuckles, walking up beside me with Rob right behind him. ¡°He definitely won¡¯t be comin¡¯ back now. Was certainly braver than most wildings, comin¡¯ at you like that.¡±

    ¡°Stupider, more like. Wouldn¡¯t ¡®ve ¡®eard ¡®im if he didn¡¯t scream like that.¡± Rob comments, swinging his axe over his shoulder.

    ¡°The hells¡­¡± I pant, the adrenaline already wearing off. I¡¯m glad the others came to help, but they wouldn¡¯t have gotten here quick enough to stop the wildling from bashing my head in. Still, did¡­

    ¡°Did you call me by name, Johnny?¡±

    ¡°I needed your attention and I got it. What, would you rather me be so formal all the time? Nothin¡¯ wrong with bein¡¯ called Feathers, Feathers. Friends don¡¯t have to be so formal. Ain¡¯t that right, big guy?¡± Johnny chuckles, giving Rob a slap on the shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m not your friend.¡± Rob glumly replies.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re lucky to have any friends with that kinda attitude. C¡¯mon. Unless that wildling¡¯s run off to get an even bigger club, he ain¡¯t comin¡¯ back.¡± Johnny shrugs, heading back to the logging site.

    ¡°Marina.¡± Rob says, turning to me. It¡¯s hard to get a read on him, with him being so¡­ glum, all the time. He always sounds like someone just ate the last slice of his birthday cake without asking.

    ¡°Yes, Rob?¡±

    ¡°Put your wings away.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I feel strangely compelled to ask. They just saved my life, again. They can be out for a bit, can¡¯t they?

    Rob just looks at the mud pine he¡¯s standing next to. He traces his large finger down the tree¡¯s trunk, gouging off some of the sticky tar lining it, inspecting what was now stuck to his finger¡­ then flicks it at my left wing.

    ¡°They¡¯ll get dirty.¡± He shrugs like he didn¡¯t just dirty them himself, before heading off behind Johnny.

    I can only stand there for a moment, dumbfounded, as my left wing shakes and flaps vigorously, trying to get this blackish-brown, sticky, stinky stuff off it to no avail, as the right wing points it wingtip back and forth between Rob and my left wing, seemingly as dumbfounded as I am at what Rob just did.

    I wipe the gunk off as best I can with my hands, not that¡­ I can wipe my hands on anything, given I certainly don¡¯t want this stuff getting on my clothes, well enough that my wings are happy, for now, to go back in my cloak. I¡¯ll definitely wash that spot with clean water later, wings, trust me. I¡¯ll need to clean my hands properly, too.

    I made it back to the work site shortly after Johnny and Rob got back. All the needed timber has been chopped down, now it just has to be cleaned. They use carved, shaped pieces of wood that cleans the gunky, wet ¡°bark¡± off the trunks easily enough. What I didn¡¯t expect was for Johnny to toss me one, motioning at a trunk in need of cleaning.

    Well. This stuff¡¯s already on my hands. May as well help¡­

    So that¡¯s what I did, for the better part of an hour, cleaning off the last few logs before helping load them onto the sled. My hands are now covered with that stuff which I¡¯ve only barely managed to keep off my clothes, but the others have assured me that it¡¯ll wash off ¡°eventually¡± with ¡°enough¡± water. When I pressed them for how long or how much water it¡¯d take, they were unhelpfully evasive. All they said was the smell goes away before the dark brown stains on my skin would.

    Once everything was loaded and secured on the sled, it was an uneventful, slow trip back to Haven. The sled needed four people pulling it as we slowly made up our way up the hill to the south of Haven, so I helped lighten the load for a bit until we made it to the long downhill slope to the gates. I kept an eye and an ear out on our surroundings, but the lack of any foreboding feeling that we were being watched never crossed my mind. That wildling had no interest in following us after what I did. I definitely don¡¯t blame him, either; I¡¯d run for it if someone not only had wings, but blades in their wings that could split a wooden club like it was a twig.

    You¡¯re more entwined with my thoughts than I knew, wings. When I saw those four silver flashes before me, I feared they¡¯d be followed by a rush of blood, but you went for the club instead. You moved faster than I was thinking, too. I was so caught up on whether or not I wanted to harm or even kill someone that was about to bash my head open that I didn¡¯t move fast enough. Really, with a spear, my only option was to stab. If I tried to block with the haft, the club would probably have smashed it in two. You did well, wings.

    Soon enough, we were back inside the walls of Haven, as the Chief checked over the materials we¡¯d brought, and if anything happened.

    ¡°A wildling came right up to the logging site?¡± The Chief asks a second time, for confirmation.

    ¡°Came right up to us, barely a few feet away. Took one look at Feathers and made a run for it.¡± Johnny answers.

    ¡°But then it came back, armed this time.¡± The Chief continues, making sure she gets the story straight.

    ¡°Sure did. Came at her with a nasty lookin¡¯ club, not that he had a chance. One swoop of her wing-blades split the thing in two! He turned to run again, though not before I chucked an axe at him so he knew not to mess with us. He ran off screeching into the woods like a scared pig. No way in this hell he tried to follow us back.¡± Johnny finishes his story.

    ¡°And you¡¯re certain you weren¡¯t followed back, Marina?¡± The Chief asks me. I nod. ¡°Hmm. Unusual actions for a wildling, but you did your duty, Marina. Well done.¡± She gives me a small, but satisfied smile.

    ¡°Sure glad Rann poached her from sentry duty. She¡¯s saved our skin a few times out in the Abyss.¡± Johnny nods, giving me an affirmative slap on the back that makes my wings wiggle uncomfortably under my cloak.

    ¡°A job well done, all of you. You¡¯ll get an extra helping of whatever you want from the kitchen tonight.¡± The Chief addresses our group, and is met with a few relieved cheers.

    ¡°After you all have a bath. You¡¯re not allowed into the Tavern until your hands are as clean as the day you were born, and there isn¡¯t so much of a whiff of that gods-forsaken mud pine stench about you.¡± She quickly clarifies, and is met with a few beleaguered groans.

    I¡¯m more than eager to have a bath, though. I like being clean, and I like staying that way. Besides, I promised my wings I¡¯d clean them, and any promise I make, I keep.

    That said, it took near-on three hours of scrubbing to get my fingers clean enough for the Chief¡¯s liking so I¡¯d be allowed into the tavern to eat dinner. Even then, there was still a slight brown stain on my fingernails that took several more days of scrubbing to finally clean off. At least it came off my wing easily enough.

    Frankly, I¡¯d be happy if I never had to touch the stinking tar of a mud pine ever again.

 Chapter Thirty-Five

    An unending plain of clear, still water.

    Its surface undisturbed, but for a single rock from which a peach tree grows, its branches heavy with fruit.

    Nothing. Nothing for miles around in every direction.

    Nothing, but for him.

    ¡°Our dreams intersect.¡± He speaks, his voice calm and measured. ¡°Auspicious. Long have I sought out those who are worthy.¡±

    He stands facing away from me, his gaze on the distant horizon. His style of dress is foreign to me; a flowing outfit, one sash over his shoulder and the other by his side, two sheathed, curved swords rest against his hip, his black hair done in a ponytail. He has the pointed ears of one reborn within the Abyss.

    I go to speak, but nothing comes out. Who is he? Why is he here, in my dream? Is this my dream?

    Yet, he hears my unspoken question all the same. He looks back over his shoulder¡ªhis eye is blood red, with those piercing white pupils all the Damned of the Abyss have.

    ¡°Our paths will cross, beyond this dream. As will our blades, warrior.¡±

    Warrior? I¡¯ve slain a couple beasts, but I¡¯m no warrior. My hesitance to strike another human nearly cost me my life.

    He loosens his larger sword from its sheath, drawing it upwards with a single, smooth motion, as the clear water he stands on ripples out from his feet.

    ¡°An idle soul strays from its path.¡±

    He turns his gaze to the peach tree, pointing at an engorged peach with the tip of his weapon.

    ¡°An overripe fruit weighs heavy on the bough.¡±

    The slightest touch, and the peach falls, splattering its innards across the rock with a sickly thud, staining the surface with red.

    ¡°A blade has but one calling.¡±

    He points his sword towards me with a sudden flick of his wrist, issuing his challenge with clear intent. I jerk backwards, instinctively expecting my wings to rush forth in my defence, but¡­ They¡¯re not here. They¡¯re not on my back. They¡¯re gone. I¡¯m defenceless, with no weapons, being called out to fight.

    The man gave me a dissatisfied look, sighing as he slowly sheathed his weapon.

    ¡°To deny it is folly.¡±

    His sword arcs up towards the empty sky, a crescent of blood following in its wake as he lunged towards me faster than I could think. I briefly notice my body fall to its knees, as my severed head splashes and sinks into the clear, still water.

    The man watches my head sink into the depths, before flicking the blood from his blade, sheathing it once more, and turning to walk towards the distant horizon.

    ¡­

    ¡°Marina!¡± The Chief¡¯s voice yanks me back to reality, standing at the end of my bed. I¡¯m on my bed. My head is still on my shoulders, as I check my neck for injury. My wings are frantically rubbing against my sides, assuring me that I¡¯m safe now.

    ¡°Ah¡­ were my wings knocking against the wall again, Chief¡­?¡±

    ¡°It looked like your wings were trying to wake you up, but you weren¡¯t responding despite all their thrashing.¡± The Chief sighs, giving me a concerned look. ¡°Another nightmare?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but this was¡­ different. It was like I was in someone else¡¯s dream¡­¡± Both my wings stretch around to huddle up in my lap as I sit up on the bed. I ruffle their feathers a bit to let them know I¡¯m okay. Strange. They weren¡¯t there in the dream¡­

    ¡°What makes you think that?¡± She asks, her interest piqued.

    ¡°My dreams are always about home, or my family. This was¡­ there was this man, with two curved swords, and he seemed to know I was in his dream, and he called me out to fight, and¡­ he was dressed like no one I¡¯ve known before.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Calling you out to fight. Sounds like something the War God would conjure up.¡± The Chief muses. ¡°What else happened in this dream?¡±

    ¡°... I was decapitated.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well, you¡¯re awake, and your head is still firmly on your shoulders. Come and have breakfast. It¡¯ll be gone from your mind soon enough.¡± She tilts her head to gesture upstairs, likely where a bowl of hot gruel we all call porridge is waiting for me.

    ¡°Alright¡­¡± I stand wearily, leaning my head side to side to try and get this strange tingling feeling in my neck to go away.

    ¡°It¡¯s not unusual for our dreams to take a violent turn. Not only is there undoubtedly some influence from the likely Godly corpse we stand upon, but for the fact that by our very nature as Damned¡­ many of us had violent deaths.¡± She adds, standing in the doorway. ¡°It¡¯s of more concern if you have the same dream over and over again.¡±

    I went and had breakfast with the Chief, and went about my normal morning activities. That dream didn¡¯t leave my mind, though. Nor did that man. Yes, I haven¡¯t known someone dressed like that, but I have seen it. Once, a group of merchants all the way from Heian came to purchase some instruments from my family, and they had guards with them. Guards with lamellar armour, each wielding two sheathed swords, one shorter than the other, just like that man in my dream had.

    He said our dreams intersected, and that we would meet in real life. It could have just been a dream, but that didn¡¯t sit right with me. It was more than that. That Heian-dressed man issued me a challenge, and the certainty in his words makes me believe our paths will cross again.

    Fortunately, I know just who to ask about Heian-related matters, and where to find her in the morning.

    ¡­

    ¡°You were visited in your dreams by a man with two curved swords, whose clothes you recognised as Heian-style.¡± Minegumo repeats back at me, wiping her floured hands on her apron.

    It¡¯s more overcast than usual outside, and a bit dark in the bakery as the fire from the oven has dimmed since it was first lit in the early hours of the morning long before the sun came up, so her soft, round eyes are squinting a bit to see clearly in the darkness. Not that it¡¯s hard to see where she is; the white pupils we all have seem to have a slight glow in the dark, moreso for those with Abyss-red eyes.

    As our resident baker, Minegumo is usually up earlier than most in the morning, baking bread for the day, before helping in the tavern¡¯s kitchen later on in the evening. I caught her just as she was finishing up the morning bread, with a few dozen freshly-baked bread rolls set out to cool beside the wood-fired oven. Normally, the rising column of smoke from a chimney or fireplace is a dead giveaway of human activity in an area, which isn¡¯t good when you¡¯re trying to hide. Fortunately, burning pits of fire and the accompanying pillars of smoke are a naturally occuring feature of the Abyss.

    Given the size of Haven¡¯s farming plot, it¡¯s almost inconceivable that we¡¯d have a bakery at all. Grainfields usually take up vast amounts of space to feed a whole village. That is one of the few problems we don¡¯t have to worry about, though. Although their flavour takes some getting used to, the grains native to this world have been bred to be hardy and extremely productive, to feed races that are much larger than humans, and have much larger appetites. This, coupled with the extremely fertile soil and plentiful clean water, means we have plentiful grain harvests multiple times a year, so we¡¯re never short on flour.

    ¡°I know it sounds like a ridiculous thing to bring up, but¡­¡±

    ¡°It felt too real to be just a dream.¡± She finishes, crossing her arms and furrowing her brow in thought.

    ¡°You¡¯re familiar with it?¡±

    ¡°These curved swords. Were they of noticeably different length?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Yes. One was a lot shorter than the other, and he used the longer one to¡­ well, decapitate me.¡±

    ¡°Tch¡­¡± Minegumo clicks her tongue, sitting down on a stool and pondering for a long moment, before looking up at me and speaking in a serious tone. ¡°You likely encountered a dreamwalker.¡±

    ¡°A dreamwalker?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Though, you probably don¡¯t know much about my homeland, which will make explaining this difficult, but it¡¯s important to do so.¡± She clears her throat, readying her history lesson. ¡°My homeland is ruled by the Emperor, the embodiment of Ookuninushi, God of Peace, and the Shogun, the embodiment of Hachiman, God of War, who is subservient to the Emperor. It is this balance that has brought prosperity to my homeland for many centuries, but sometimes, Hachiman grows restless. A ban on open conflict had stood for more than a century, and this angered Hachiman. So, he would reach out to the people in their dreams, to warriors who wished to taste the air of battle. These warriors would then visit each other¡¯s dreams, calling them out to fight, and they would seek out one another to do battle away from prying eyes.¡±

    ¡°Hachiman, the God of War¡­ is that the Heian name for Arnar?¡±

    ¡°The same, yes. I have read that book in the library. I know the theory that we may be standing on Hachiman''s godly remains.¡± She nods sternly.

    ¡°So these dreamwalkers are, in a way, blessed by the God of War to seek out others to do battle? And that¡­ perhaps, that ability has remained intact, even after being reborn in the Underlands?¡±

    ¡°Did you tell the dreamwalker where you were? Did you tell him about Haven?¡± Minegumo pushes, standing and moving towards me, clenching her fists as if she¡¯s about to strike me.

    ¡°I-I didn¡¯t, I told him nothing. I couldn¡¯t even talk in the dream, and I didn¡¯t have my wings, either. Does¡­ Will he look for me? Will he find me?¡±

    Minegumo takes a deep breath, calming herself before continuing. ¡°He will look for you. But he doesn¡¯t know where to start, at least.¡±

    ¡°... You¡¯ve dealt with a dreamwalker before, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I have.¡± Minegumo sighs heavily. ¡°My father turned out to be one. It got him killed. It¡¯s why I¡¯m here. It¡¯s why my sister¡¯s here. He died, we had no one to provide for us, and we froze to death in the winter.¡± She¡¯s clenching her fists again.

    Her sister¡­ There was that girl brought in alongside the other two for questioning, when we were trying to find the thief¡ªwho turned out to be Crow¡ªwho looked and sounded a lot like Minegumo. Their eyes match too, at least when Minegumo¡¯s been scowling for most of this conversation. What was her name¡­? Ah.

    ¡°Emi, right?¡±

    ¡°You¡­ know my sister?¡± Minegumo¡¯s expression softens, and she relaxes her hands.

    ¡°She was questioned by the Chief alongside Samantha and Rickard back when the mystery thief of Haven had yet to be found. She certainly looked and sounded a lot like you.¡±

    ¡°Emi¡¯s my little sister, yes. She was seven, I was ten. Though we¡­ passed in each other¡¯s arms, it took more than a decade for her to be reborn in the Underlands. That day, five years ago, the day Rann walked through the gates of Haven, carrying my sleeping sister in his arms¡­ that was the happiest day of my life.¡± Minegumo smiles to herself.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky, being reunited with your sister. Not that any of us had much luck, ending up down here.¡±

    Minegumo scowls and tenses up like she¡¯s angered by what I said, before she stops herself, taking a deep breath. ¡°If we were lucky, we wouldn¡¯t be here in the first place, but¡­ at least I know my sister¡¯s safe, and I can look out for her.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, luck isn¡¯t really the best term for it, I know, just¡­ we can only make the best of the bad situation we¡¯re all stuck in.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it. What will you do about your bad situation though, Marina?¡± She looks up at me, crossing her arms. ¡°The dreamwalker will look for you. He may intrude upon your dreams again.¡±

    ¡°He has to be in the Abyss. He had the same pointed ears and white pupils we all do, with blood red eyes and black hair¡­ he must have been here a long time as well; more than twenty years, at least. Maybe¡­ maybe someone here might know of them.¡±

    ¡°We should ask Rann if he knows. He¡¯s the most likely to have heard something about it.¡± Minegumo takes off her apron, hanging it by the door as she steps outside.

    ¡°We?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we.¡± She frowns. ¡°Come on.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡°A man of foreign dress, carrying two curved swords, invading people¡¯s dreams and challenging them to a fight. Someone who had all the traits of one reborn in the Abyss.¡± Rann repeats, after swallowing a bite of his lunch, leaning against an upright log that forms part of the framework of the new bunkhouse.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound any less ridiculous saying it all over again¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re real, Marina. And if one¡¯s challenged you, they will look for you.¡± Minegumo adds quickly.

    ¡°And that¡¯s why you¡¯re here, Minegumo. Because these ¡°dreamwalkers¡± were a thing in your home country.¡± Rann raises an eyebrow inquisitively. ¡°Not something I¡¯ve heard of before, but I¡¯ve never been to Heian. Besides, their description seems to match the type of people that used to be more common here.¡±

    ¡°People who died fighting, I assume. It¡¯d make sense that warrior-types ended up in the war god¡¯s remains. It makes more sense than exclusively children turning up here.¡±

    ¡°No, it used to be all sorts of people. It¡¯s just those who died with a weapon in hand tended to last longer.¡± Rann shrugs.

    ¡°More importantly, Rann, have you seen or heard anyone matching that description? I know most cultures do not wear two curved swords in the style Marina described.¡± Minegumo pushes.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Rann thinks for a moment, or maybe just wants another bite of his lunch.

    ¡°Well? Are you going to answer, or are you just going to eat?¡± She growls, wanting an answer now.

    ¡°I¡¯m just enjoying your handiwork.¡± He responds, holding up the bread roll he¡¯s been chewing on; baked fresh this morning by our resident baker herself. ¡°Besides, Marina didn¡¯t tell him a word about where she was, or where Haven was. He¡¯s not going to find us anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°Rann!¡± Minegumo stamps her foot in the mud, drawing the attention of the others working on the bunkhouse, creating an uneasy quiet.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of him, yes.¡± Rann sighs, standing up straight. ¡°Better yet, I know someone who¡¯s seen him. Follow me.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡°Where exactly are you leading us, Rann?¡± Minegumo stops in her tracks beside the vegetable gardens on Cellar Road, staring with consternation at what lays at the end of the road.

    ¡°To the person who¡¯s seen the man you talked about. She¡¯s been working hard for the past week.¡± Rann answers, glancing back at Minegumo.

    ¡°And who exactly are they, as I asked?¡± Minegumo asks with a forced smile and flared nostrils.

    I know why she¡¯s asking. This end of town stinks of soot and the¡­ bodily materials used by the tanner to make leather and parchment, who¡¯s been steadily working through the near-literal mountain of hide that was carved off the bloodbeast¡¯s carcass.

    ¡°Ingrid.¡± Rann finally gives Minegumo an answer, though he frowns before he continues, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you get along as badly with her as the Chief does.¡±

    ¡°The blacksmith? I have no issues with her, it¡¯s more just the¡­ unpleasant smell of her workplace, and the workplace directly across from her.¡± Minegumo narrows her eyes, wearily gazing at the blacksmith, then across to the tannery.

    ¡°She¡¯s been hard at work, and I doubt she¡¯ll leave her smithy until she¡¯s made every nail, hinge, and fitting that¡¯s been requested. Come on.¡± Rann heads down the side alley beside the blacksmith, as Minegumo and I follow behind him.

    The closer we get, the more the particularly pungent smell from the tanner¡¯s is overtaken by the smell of soot and burning charcoal, with the constant clang of a hammer on an anvil ringing in my ears. Sure enough, Ingrid, the straw-blonde, silver-eyed blacksmith of Haven, is hard at work in the open workspace behind the blacksmith shop. An orange glow is cast over her form from the roaring fire of the open furnace, showing the black soot stains along her bare arms and her cheeks. She¡¯s wearing what she always seems to wear; a thick leather apron, accompanying thick gloves, long pants, and a sleeveless top. I¡¯d almost forgotten how muscular her arms look, especially now that they¡¯re glistening with sweat that runs through the soot on her arms¡­ yeah, no wonder she could carry that bear spear like it didn¡¯t weigh anything. She handles her thick-headed hammer like it¡¯s as light as a dinner knife.

    ¡°Rann.¡± Ingrid speaks between swings of her hammer, her eyes focused on her red-hot work. ¡°The hinges will be done tomorrow, on time. You don¡¯t have to check on them.¡±

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    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be bothering you about something you¡¯ve said you¡¯ll do. That¡¯s not what I¡¯m here for.¡± Rann says, leaning against the wall and watching her work.

    ¡°Then why are you here?¡± Ingrid asks. She either hasn¡¯t noticed that Minegumo and I are also here, or simply hasn¡¯t acknowledged our presence.

    ¡°It¡¯s about your time with the Keepsguard.¡± He says.

    The next swing of the hammer comes down hard with a much louder clang, before she places her hammer on the anvil and finally looks up at Rann. ¡°What about them?¡±

    Rann just nods towards Minegumo and I, and Ingrid follows his direction. Minegumo steps forward.

    ¡°Rann said you¡¯ve seen someone before. Someone of notably foreign dress, carrying two curved swords by his side, one smaller than the other.¡± She explains, laying out the important details about the dreamwalker.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Ingrid glances away, parsing through her memories before answering. ¡°I remember them. What about them?¡±

    ¡°Marina encountered them in her dreams. They called her out to fight. If you have seen them yourself, then that means they are real, and that they¡¯ll be searching for Marina.¡± Minegumo continues.

    ¡°So?¡± Ingrid shrugs indifferently, picking up her hammer. ¡°It was a dream. Why ask me about some dream the Chief¡¯s errand girl had?¡±

    Errand girl¡­? Well, I¡¯ve been called worse, and she¡¯s not exactly wrong.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you get it?¡± Minegumo hisses, annoyed. ¡°Marina¡¯s never seen that man before, but the way she described them in her dream matches the person you saw in the flesh.¡±

    ¡°Just a coincidence.¡± Ingrid refocuses on her work, bringing her hammer down on the iron hinge atop her anvil.

    ¡°What happened to him when you saw him? How did you see him? When? Did he fight one of the Keepsguard?¡± She pushes with more questions, but the word ¡°Keepsguard¡± seems to set something off in Ingrid, making her next swing even harder and louder than the last one.

    ¡°What about the Keepsguard? Why do you care?¡± Ingrid looks up at Minegumo, noticeable tension in her voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the Keepsguard, Ingrid. It¡¯s about the man, the¡­ dreamwalker. Minegumo¡¯s convinced me they¡¯re real, and while he doesn¡¯t know where I am or where Haven is, he will look for me. If there¡¯s anything you can share about him, it may help a lot.¡± I step forward, trying to defuse the situation.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Ingrid stands upright, relaxing her shoulders. ¡°He did show up one day, two curved swords by his side. One of the others at the Keep seemed to be expecting him. He went out, they fought. The Keepsguard lost a member that day.¡±

    ¡°He beat a member of the Keepsguard? Was it one of the initiates?¡± Rann asks, his interest piqued.

    ¡°No. A Guardian. Full plate.¡± Ingrid answers. ¡°In a few moments of fighting, the man with two swords knew exactly where to strike. Under the arm, back of the neck. Killed his opponent without ever taking a hit himself. He sheathed his sword, bowed, and walked back into the forest.¡±

    ¡°He took on someone wearing full plate with a curved sword and won?¡± Rann repeats, blinking in disbelief.

    ¡°Clean cuts to the joints. He dropped dead on the spot. Saw it with my own eyes.¡± Ingrid recalls, gazing into the distance.

    ¡°Full plate? Plate what? I know western swords tend to be straight compared to swords made in Heian, but what do you mean he was wearing full plate?¡± Minegumo asks, looking between Rann and Ingrid.

    ¡°Plate armour. Full metal covering, head to toe. The Old Keep is the only place down here you¡¯ll find people wearing that much armour.¡± Rann explains.

    ¡°Solid metal, head to toe...¡± Minegumo thinks, her brow furrowed. ¡°All that metal, used by a single soldier?¡±

    ¡°It keeps them safe, usually. Sounds like it didn¡¯t do that Keepsguard much luck against this dreamwalker, though.¡± Rann shrugs.

    ¡°So he¡¯s a capable and dangerous warrior, who can quickly decipher where to strike where his opponent is weakest even if he¡¯s never seen anything like them before, and cut them down in mere moments¡­¡±

    ¡°Though he doesn¡¯t know where to find you, Marina¡­ you¡¯re probably going to need a few more sparring sessions.¡± Rann pats me on my shoulder.

    ¡°If I do ever meet him, I hopefully won¡¯t be alone.¡±

    ¡°Things out there can turn bad very quickly.¡± He speaks in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

    ¡°At least I¡¯ll have my¡­ wait.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Minegumo questions.

    ¡°In my dream. Not only could I not speak, I didn¡¯t have my wings. I turned around and they weren¡¯t there. He doesn¡¯t know about my wings. Meaning he doesn¡¯t know about these.¡± Right on cue, my wings unfurl themselves from my cloak, standing tall by my sides and showing off their four pairs of blades, glinting in the warm light cast from the fire burning in the forge.

    ¡°If combat was about the number of weapons you can bring to bear, you¡¯d have him beat by six. But that¡¯s not how it works, Marina, and you know that.¡± Rann crosses his arms, more than used to my wings putting on a show by now.

    ¡°I know, but it¡¯s something he wouldn¡¯t expect, and it¡¯d take him by surprise-¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d likely never seen someone in plate armour before either, but he learned how to defeat it in just a few moments of battle. I doubt your wings will give him much trouble.¡± Rann warns against my confidence.

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ yeah. If we cross paths in the flesh, I doubt I¡¯d last more than a few seconds by myself.¡±

    ¡°A few seconds is long enough for the others and I to come to your aid. No one¡¯s going to be cutting you down by your lonesome.¡± He gives me a reassuring smile, patting my shoulder again.

    ¡°Hmm. Marina, can I test something with your wing-blades?¡± Ingrid asks, taking more of an interest in the blades concealed within my wings than the conversation.

    ¡°Sure, go ahead.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t expecting her to do anything in particular; I just thought she wanted to check their sharpness or something. What I absolutely did not expect was for Ingrid to grab my right wing, and swing her hammer directly at one of the blades. It felt like my entire right side shook, or rather, vibrated as a loud resonant ting sounded out when the hammer hit the blade, vibrating in place until it finally settled again.

    ¡°Flexible. Good steel. Certainly better than the swords the dreamwalker used.¡± Ingrid nods to herself.

    ¡°D-did you have to¡­ urk¡­¡± My head¡¯s spinning like crazy¡­

    ¡°How close to this fight were you if you could tell the quality of this dreamwalker¡¯s swords?¡± Rann asks, putting a hand on my shoulder to help steady me as Minegumo rubs her ears, that ting noise likely still echoing in her head as it is in mine.

    ¡°Even a baker could tell the difference between the dreamwalker¡¯s blades, and the sword of a Keepsguard. Their blades only struck each other once. The dreamwalker knew if their blades struck again, his would shatter.¡± Ingrid explains bluntly. ¡°Poor craftsmanship.¡±

    ¡°Yet he didn¡¯t have any trouble defeating someone in ¡°full plate¡±, as you call it.¡± Minegumo says.

    ¡°No suit of armour is perfect. Everything has their weaknesses. What matters is how fast you recognise those weaknesses, and how quickly you exploit them.¡± Ingrid crosses her arms. ¡°The Guardian was arrogant and thought his armour made him invulnerable. His arrogance cost him his life.¡±

    ¡°I never knew you were part of the Keepsguard, Ingrid. How long have you been in Haven?¡±

    ¡°Of course you didn¡¯t know. It¡¯s none of your business.¡± She bluntly responds, looking at me indifferently.

    ¡°Ingrid¡¯s been with us for seven years now. Found her wandering alone near Dead Man¡¯s Dream, having been kicked out of the Keepsguard for reasons she has felt no need to share.¡± Rann answers for her, glancing across at Ingrid as she grabs a large pair of tongs, picking up the still-warm wrought iron door hinge and inspecting her work.

    ¡°You were kicked out? Not¡­ I don¡¯t know, imprisoned or something to keep their secrets?¡±

    ¡°They have a castle.¡± Ingrid responds, her eyes refocused on her work. ¡°They have no need for secrecy.¡±

    ¡°No one faction in the Abyss is big enough or has the tools to take on the Old Keep. They¡¯re plenty safe holed up in that castle of theirs.¡± Rann chuckles to himself.

    ¡°The food¡¯s better at Haven. Water¡¯s cleaner too.¡± Ingrid comments, as she leans down to grab something from a barrel. ¡°While you¡¯re here, Rann.¡±

    She hands Rann a sheet of metal, forged into the shape of a sword no longer than Rann¡¯s forearm, blunt and dull. Rann takes it in hand, testing its weight and balance.

    ¡°Should do well.¡± He nods, handing it back to her.

    ¡°New swords?¡±

    ¡°For our allies. I¡¯m sure the Red Wolves would appreciate having some iron by their sides.¡± Rann grins. ¡°Best iron in the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call this scrap metal iron.¡± Ingrid grunts. ¡°It¡¯s fine for tools and hinges. For weapons, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯ll do, but it¡¯s not great.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the best we can do with what we¡¯ve got.¡± He shrugs, leaning back against the wall. ¡°It¡¯s kept us going for some hundred years.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re done, then, I need to get back to work.¡± Ingrid briefly glances over at Minegumo and I, before grabbing more wood to add to the forge¡¯s fire.

    ¡°We best not get in her way, then.¡± Rann heads out back along the side alley, with Minegumo and I following him back some ways up the Cellar road.

    He stops, sighs, and turns to face us. ¡°So. What¡¯s going to be done about this dreamwalker, then? You seem to be the expert, Minegumo. Is he going to keep bothering Marina¡¯s dreams?¡±

    ¡°He might. He might not. I don¡¯t know exactly how they work, or if they¡¯ll cross dreams with Marina again, but they will look for her.¡± She answers, looking up at Rann tensely. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. And what does the Chief know of this?¡± Rann glances at me.

    ¡°She knows it happened. She said to tell her if it happens again. She doesn¡¯t know about the whole dreamwalker problem. One thing I¡¯ve been wondering for a while, though.¡± I turn to face Minegumo, who side-eyes me. ¡°Why are you so invested in this, Minegumo?¡±

    She looks out over the garden field, filled with healthy plants nearing the point of harvest, awash with bright colours you¡¯ll see no-where else in the Abyss.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯ve dealt with them before.¡± Is her answer. There¡¯s more on her mind, though. Her voice suddenly lacks the certainty and conviction that it carried earlier.

    ¡°There¡¯s something you know that you haven¡¯t told me. Something that¡¯s been eating away at you.¡±

    ¡°And what would you know about what¡¯s eating away at me? You don¡¯t know¡­¡± Her anger subsides, clicking her tongue in annoyance. ¡°How would you know¡­¡±

    ¡°You wear your heart on your sleeve nearly as much as the Chief does. And she isn¡¯t even aware of it.¡±

    ¡°Is it something we should know, Minegumo?¡± Rann asks, crossing his arms.

    ¡°You crossed paths with a dreamwalker, Marina. Now you¡¯re a dreamwalker too.¡± The assuredness returns to Minegumo¡¯s voice. She¡¯s serious.

    ¡°I am? How does that even work?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how, it just does. Dreamwalkers usually only interact with other dreamwalkers, but now that you¡¯ve met one in your dreams, you¡¯re one too.¡± She explains.

    ¡°But how does it¡­ work? How do I even control my dreamwalker powers?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how. Just don¡¯t go to bed craving battle or holding a grudge against someone. Your dreams might intersect with theirs, and then they¡¯re a dreamwalker, too. That¡¯s how it spreads.¡± She¡¯s getting agitated, but not from having to explain this. It¡¯s more the fact that she¡¯s in the presence of a dreamwalker that¡¯s agitating her.

    ¡°So it¡¯s contagious? If I¡¯m not careful it could spread to other people in the Abyss or even people in Haven?¡± Now I¡¯m getting agitated. Does she know or does she not? Does she have any clear answers?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Just don¡¯t think about wanting to kill people and it hopefully won¡¯t cause any more trouble!¡± She¡¯s yelling by now, probably loud enough for half the town to hear.

    ¡°Alright, you two, that¡¯s enough.¡± The Chief¡¯s stern voice cuts through the heated air like a knife, stamping her staff in the earth for attention, defusing the situation. ¡°I heard what you were arguing about. That Marina¡¯s dream visitor is of greater import than I thought. Why didn''t you bring it up with me if you felt it was important, Marina?¡±

    ¡°The man in my dream was wearing Heian-style clothing. I thought I¡¯d ask the main Heian I knew.¡±

    ¡°The two of them came looking for me, to see if I¡¯d seen a man matching that description before. I didn¡¯t, but I knew who did.¡± Rann picks up for me.

    ¡°Someone in Haven knows the man from Marina¡¯s dream?¡± The Chief asks, genuinely surprised that someone would have seen this dream invader in the flesh.

    ¡°Ingrid.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°Ah.¡± The Chief grimaces briefly, before collecting herself. ¡°Well. Good thing you¡¯re telling me this now.¡±

    ¡°What is your problem with each other¡­¡± Minegumo frowns, looking back at the blacksmith, then to the Chief.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t important.¡± The Chief dismisses her with a hand wave. ¡°What¡¯s important is that you tell me all the details so I know what to expect.¡±

    We explain everything. How dreamwalkers work, what Minegumo knows of them given her father was one, the description of the man, Ingrid¡¯s sighting of him and how the fight with the Keepsguard went. The fact that while he doesn¡¯t know where I am, he will look for me, and we may very well cross paths beyond the dream. While he doesn¡¯t know about my wings, the surprise of them would wear off quickly, and any advantage that gives me would quickly dissipate. He¡¯d be a dangerous opponent no matter what, and if we do meet face-to-face, it¡¯s best we ensure I don¡¯t face him alone.

    ¡°So there¡¯s a risk it may spread¡­¡± The Chief frowns, taking in everything she¡¯s just been told. ¡°It¡¯s fortunate you¡¯re not the type to hold grudges, Marina, but we¡¯ll have to be mindful of this regardless.¡±

    ¡°While I can¡¯t guarantee I can control it¡­ I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    ¡°You got your wings to behave, for the most part. I trust in your self-control.¡± She nods affirmatively. Her confidence helps.

    ¡°What now, then? We going to tell the others about this?¡± Rann gazes towards the tavern, starting to fill with the crowd for lunch. ¡°I don¡¯t think we should, if you want my opinion.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± Minegumo says, lowering her voice as a couple of guards from the Cellars go by. ¡°What they don¡¯t know can¡¯t hurt them. They don¡¯t need something to panic over.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled.¡± The Chief nods. ¡°We keep this to ourselves¡­ and to Ingrid, I suppose, if you could go and tell her, Rann.¡±

    Rann nods, and the four of us split off in different directions to go about our daily tasks, keeping what we know to ourselves.

    Dreamwalking. The ability to enter, or rather cross paths with the dreams of others. I''ve heard stories of people who could control their dreams, control other¡¯s dreams, or project their dreams into reality, but visiting other¡¯s dreams in a lucid state is a new one. It was something best not told to others, because dream-invaders would cause a panic.

    The rest of my day was uneventful. I helped move some timber for the bunkhouse¡¯s walls, sorted out part of the library, had dinner, and went to bed with as clear a mind as possible so that no dreamwalker-related stuff happened. I thought of home. Something unrelated to anyone else in Haven.

    Home is the gentle hills and sun-kissed coastline of Sovrana.

    Not the blizzard I found myself in.

    ¡°Hello?¡± I call as loud as I can, but I fear my voice travelled only as far as the scant few feet ahead that I can see. Pure white falls from the sky in every direction, burying the tall pine trees surrounding me.

    I wasn¡¯t prepared for a blizzard, nor was I dressed for one. I¡¯m clearly in a dream, stuck in a pine forest I don¡¯t recognise, trudging through the deepening snow as ice-cold winds bite at my face and turn my extremities numb. There¡¯s no one around, nothing but trees, snow, and the terrible, howling winds, moaning and groaning as it rushes through the trees. I have my voice, this time. I have my wings, too, huddled around me like a blanket, doing what they can to protect me from the cold, but I feel a numbness starting to creep in through my shoulderblades. The snow sticks to them, melting against their natural warmth only to freeze again and dig in between their feathers.

    Shelter. I need shelter. If there¡¯s someone else out here, I have no hope of finding them, and I¡¯ve already died once in a dream in the past 24 hours, and I don¡¯t want to experience death a second time so soon.

    A squarish shape forms in the distance, distinct from the trees. A house, or what¡¯s left of one. It still has most of its roof. It¡¯ll do.

    I rush inside, going to slam the door behind me, only to find it¡¯s a sliding door, that I grab and pull shut so fast it nearly falls off its frame, but it holds. It holds the wind and the snow back, but not the cold. Still, it¡¯s shelter. If I have to wait out this storm, so be it.

    ¡°Why are you here¡­¡± A shaky, unfamiliar and young voice comes from the darkest corner of the single-room interior.

    ¡°W-who¡¯s there? Where are you?¡± I respond, my wings shakily rising to my side to defend me, cold, wet, and shivering as they are.

    ¡°Why¡­ are you here¡­?!¡± The voice says again, older, more mature, as the black-haired figure steps out from the shadows, their red eyes glowing with anger.

    Wait¡­

    ¡°Minegumo¡­?¡±

    ¡­

    ¡°Marina!¡± Minegumo¡¯s shrill yell startles me awake, to find her looming over me, grabbing my shirt by the collar and glaring down at me with unbridled rage in her eyes. ¡°Why?! Why were you there?! Why were you in MY dream?! Why? WHY?!¡±

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know! I wasn¡¯t even thinking about-¡± I try to push her off, but she yanks my collar upwards, holding it tight against my neck.

    ¡°Why did you drag me into this?! Hadn¡¯t I already done enough?! Why?!¡± She shakes me back and forth, tears starting to stream down her cheeks even as she grits her teeth in anger.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ L-let¡­¡± Is she trying to choke me¡­?! ¡°Get OFF!¡±

    I grab her shoulders, shoving her back with all the force I can muster, sending her smaller body flying off me as I sit up, my wings closing in from either side, blades glinting in the darkness¡ª

    ¡°Stop!!¡± I yell, grabbing both of my wings and yanking them back as their blades were aiming right at her throat, cutting along her shoulders and upper arms as she clunks against the foot of the bed, just as the Chief bursts in the room, glowing staff in hand.

    ¡°Marina!! What¡­ happened¡­¡± The Chief trails off, confused as to why Minegumo¡¯s in my room. We just stare at each other for a moment, panting like we¡¯d just ran a marathon, lit by the golden light from the Chief¡¯s staff, as thin trails of blood start to run down Minegumo¡¯s arms.

    ¡°You¡­¡± Minegumo groans, clutching her arms as tears freely flow down her cheeks, wincing in pain as her fingers graze over her fresh wounds. ¡°Why¡­ were you there¡­ why me¡­¡±

    ¡°What happened between you two? Why are you here, Minegumo?¡± The Chief asks, walking around to stand between us beside the bed, checking Minegumo¡¯s wounds, who tries to push her away.

    ¡°It¡¯s her!¡± She yells, pointing her finger at me even as her arm trembles. ¡°She dreamwalked to me! Invaded my head! Now I¡¯m one of them too!¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even thinking about you when I went to bed! I was thinking of home! That blizzard-stricken forest was as far from home as it gets!¡±

    ¡°... Marina.¡± The Chief speaks calmly, resting her left hand on my shoulder, with her right on Minegumo¡¯s shoulder. ¡°The dream you had this morning. It was a place you didn¡¯t recognise, yes?¡±

    ¡°It was an endless plain of clear water, of course I didn¡¯t recognise it!¡±

    ¡°So, you were pulled into his head, and his inner world. A place you didn¡¯t recognise.¡± Mia nods, turning to Minegumo. ¡°But the dreamwalk¡¯s location was familiar to you, yes?¡±

    ¡°It was my old home! And¡­¡± She begins to retort in anger before she abruptly stops, the colour slowly draining from her face as the realisation hits her. She shrinks back, looking up at Mia, her voice shaky and small. ¡°A-are you saying¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡­ she initiated the dreamwalk herself¡­? I went into her head, and that was her dream she pulled me into?¡±

    ¡°You mentioned your father was a dreamwalker, Minegumo. Well, I spent most of the evening combing through the library, as I¡¯d read the term before. There are records that dreamwalkers¡¯ ability remains intact even in the Underlands. Not only that, it¡¯s often hereditary.¡± The Chief explains, as Minegumo sullenly looks down at her lap.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ from my father¡­?¡± She whimpers, sniffling.

    ¡°Most likely. You¡¯ve just had an unfortunate moment to awaken to your abilities.¡± The Chief sighs softly, leaning over to inspect Minegumo¡¯s wounds. ¡°I¡¯ll get you patched up. The cuts aren¡¯t too deep.¡±

    Minegumo nods, slowly getting off my bed.

    ¡°I believe our agreement from earlier should still stand.¡± The Chief looks back at me.

    ¡°Not a word, to anyone. And, Minegumo¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Minegumo looks back at me, her big, round eyes shimmering with tears that she quickly wipes away with her sleeve. Even then, she looks like a beaten puppy. She¡¯s not a big woman, by any definition. She¡¯s shorter and smaller than some of the kids.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m sorry, too.¡± She sullenly bows her head in apology.

    The two leave my room, the light of the Chief¡¯s staff disappearing behind the closed door. With nothing else to do, I lay back down and try to get back to sleep.

    The agreement stood. We never told anyone about dreamwalking, and we never told anyone what happened between Minegumo and I.

    Thankfully, the secret stayed with us.

 Chapter Thirty-Six

    It¡¯s been a few weeks since that day.

    Most of the exterior of the bunkhouse has been finished. All that¡¯s needed for the outside is the door, of which the carpenter is admittedly taking a little too much time on making it his masterpiece, while various apprentices and helping hands put the bed frames together. Everyone was in high spirits. The younger and older children were happy to finally have separate bunkhouses, and the flurry of work had kept everyone busy and looking towards the future.

    Of course, some were more busy than others. The Chief in particular was working herself to the bone, making sure every plank of wood and every iron nail were used as efficiently as possible, and that the bunkhouse was sturdy, kept the weather out, and could stand for another hundred years if need be. Quite a few sealed crates were opened in the Cellars, with the pile of unopened crates growing noticeably smaller. While the penultimate goal of the people of Haven was to escape the Abyss, many of the supplies we have are finite and our ability to replenish them is extremely limited or non-existent. Careful consideration and pragmatism are needed to make sure what we have will last.

    The other council members all had their parts. Rann and Vann often directed construction duty in alternating shifts, as both of them were trusted by the guards and expedition team members alike to lead with a steady hand. Tiff was taking some of the work off of the Chief¡¯s back, checking in with the artisans and craftsmen daily and helping deliver what was ready to go in the bunkhouse, when she wasn¡¯t working on tasks herself. Several crates full of textiles had been opened, and Tiff and the tailors had gotten to work sewing blankets, clothes, and the occasional curtain from the wealth of material they had on hand.

    Anton had the least direct role in the bunkhouse¡¯s construction, but he played arguably the most important part. When the workers made their way to the tavern after many hard hours of work, Anton always had hearty meals and plenty of ale ready to serve, lunch and dinner, every day without fail. We were going through the meat and stock taken from the bloodbeast¡¯s carcass at an increased rate, but Rann was confident that we were more able to hunt the various beasts of the Abyss to stock up on meat again with someone like me on the expedition team.

    Speaking of me, my daily flying practice has gone well, though I¡¯ve hit somewhat of a roadblock. I can pretty comfortably stay airborne for ten seconds, fifteen seconds if I push myself, and can fly from one end of the clearing before the Crystalfall to the other. The problems are mastering how to change my altitude while flying, and turning while mid-air I¡¯ve really struggled to wrap my head around. I can turn a little, but turning hard left or right, or turning to face behind me just throws my balance off and I have to land. That said, I¡¯ve gotten very good at landing. Haven¡¯t even crashed once since Arezza returned to the Capital!

    When I¡¯m not exercising or practising staying airborne, I¡¯m helping with whatever needs an extra pair of hands. I personally helped quite a bit with building the roof. It¡¯s easy to get building materials up onto it when I can basically jump from the ground to the roof without a problem. We¡¯re doing pretty well, wings. So, I¡¯ve been just as busy as everyone else. Doing my part. Being a productive citizen of Haven.

    It¡¯s best I keep myself busy, because if I¡¯m idle for even a moment, the recurring nightmares of what happened to my family creep back into my mind.

    They¡¯ve been more common lately. More¡­ vivid. Visceral. I didn¡¯t know why, until I saw what the date was.

    Assuming that the calendars are consistent down to the day between my previous life and the Underlands, it¡¯s my birthday tomorrow.

    And the day after my birthday marks one year of my life since I, and the rest of my family, died.

    Birthdays aren¡¯t really something you think about after dying, since you, y¡¯know, died, but according to the calendar mine¡¯s right around the corner. My sixteenth¡­ or however old I really am, birthday. Or my first birthday, given it¡¯ll also be a year since I awoke in the Underlands. Or my second birthday¡­? Point is, it¡¯ll be the 3rd of Samhraine. Or the 3rd of January. My birthday.

    And the day after that, the day I died.

    A whole year already.

    There have been other things on my mind, of course. Thankfully, no more dreamwalking has happened from me or from Minegumo, nor has that other dreamwalker appeared in my dream, or dragged me into his.

    While his style of dress and choice of weapons certainly stood out, there was nothing else remarkable about his appearance. Putting aside the pitch-black hair, pointed ears, red eyes, and white pupils, he was an ordinary man.

    There was one thing on my mind about him, though, that I worked up the courage to ask Minegumo about. Things had become¡­ a little awkward between us, not that we spoke that often before. Being inside someone else¡¯s dream is a deeply personal experience, after all. Especially when it¡¯s the nightmare of how she died; huddled up in a run-down hut, slowly freezing to death as the unrelenting blizzard outside batters the walls. Still, there was one thing I had to ask her, about why she was so invested in this dreamwalker business in the first place. I thought, for a moment, that maybe the dreamwalker I encountered was her father? Or even the other man, presumably also a dreamwalker, who killed her father?

    No, was her answer. She never saw the man that killed her father, and if the dreamwalker I encountered was her father, I would have commented on the large scar running down the left side of his face, a scar Minegumo said her father had all her life. The dreamwalker I encountered had no such scar.

    Ugh, this is exactly what I mean. I¡¯m idle for just a moment, and all these thoughts just push into my mind. There¡¯s no point worrying over any of them. Normally, the Chief has something for me to do the minute I get up, but she¡¯s taken much longer than usual to find me a job. I¡¯ve just been sitting by the fire in the library, watching the embers crackle as I poke at my porridge every now and then. I haven¡¯t had much of an appetite this past week.

    After a while, the front door on the ground floor opens, but the footsteps coming up the stairs are far too heavy to be the Chief¡¯s.

    ¡°Rann?¡± I stand and turn to face Rann as he reaches the top of the stairs, carrying a large, empty leather sack over his back.

    ¡°Marina.¡± Rann smiles, then tosses me a thick pair of gloves. ¡°Ingrid¡¯s run out of scrap iron. We¡¯re going to fix that.¡±

    ¡°W-what? How? Where?¡± I ask, but Rann just heads back down the stairs, so I have no choice to follow him down and out into Haven.

    A small group is waiting outside the Chief¡¯s residence on the main street. The usual faces; Johnny, Einar, Arshak and Arshiya, the Chief, who looks quite annoyed, and¡­ Ingrid, surprisingly, carrying a sack and dressed in gear like she¡¯s ready to head out somewhere.

    ¡°I have not given you permission to leave Haven, Ingrid. No one, especially those not on the expedition team, leaves Haven without the Chief¡¯s permission.¡± The Chief explains, but her crossed arms, restlessly tapping foot, and the venom in her voice is apparent with how she enunciates Ingrid¡¯s name.

    ¡°I¡¯m out of scrap metal for reforging. Do you want us to have no spare iron on hand?¡± Ingrid responds matter-of-factly, ignorant of or simply uncaring of the Chief¡¯s agitation.

    ¡°I¡¯m aware we¡¯re low on metal after the bunkhouse¡¯s construction. That doesn¡¯t mean you have to go with the expedition team to get more!¡± The Chief huffs, stamping her foot to make her point.

    ¡°I have nothing else to do in Haven until we get more metal. Why shouldn¡¯t I go with them?¡± Ingrid crosses her arms, indifferent even now.

    ¡°If you¡¯re that desperate for work, go help with the furniture inside the bunkhouse!¡± The Chief yells.

    ¡°Why would I? I¡¯m a blacksmith, not a carpenter.¡± Ingrid shrugs.

    ¡°Gods, you¡¯re insufferable!¡± The Chief finally notices Rann and I standing outside her home, watching this argument unfold. ¡°Rann! Don¡¯t tell me you told her that she could go with you!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a short trip, Chief. We¡¯ll be back well before sundown. Ingrid knows what she¡¯s looking for, and she¡¯s a capable lass. We¡¯ll be fine.¡± Rann shrugs lightly, patting the Chief on the shoulder.

    ¡°Ghhhh¡­¡± The Chief growls, grabbing Rann¡¯s shoulder and pulling him down enough that she can whisper something in his ear in a harsh tone. Whatever she said, Rann just shrugs again in response.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ fine. Just this once. You better be back before sundown.¡± The Chief relents, throwing one last annoyed glare at Ingrid before disappearing into her library, closing the door behind her with some force.

    ¡°So, now that that¡¯s over, are we gonna get movin¡¯ or what?¡± Johnny asks. I don¡¯t know how long the others were standing there in awkward silence while the Chief and Ingrid argued with each other.

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s get a move on. Hopefully she¡¯ll have cooled off by the time we get back.¡± Rann sighs to himself, moving to the front of the group as they set off towards the gate. I quickly hurry up to match his pace.

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me exactly what we¡¯re doing, Rann. Where are we going to find piles of scrap metal in the Abyss?¡±

    Rann glances across at me briefly, before returning his gaze to the gate as we wait for it to open. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±

    ¡°You say that about everything in the Abyss¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll tell ya, Feathers. Rann¡¯s just too annoyed after dealin¡¯ with the Chief and Ingrid buttin¡¯ heads over nothin¡¯ again.¡± Johnny moves up to my right, as our little group sets off into the Abyss.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see what she got angry about. I asked for the metal, why can¡¯t I help gather it?¡± Ingrid chimes in from behind us.

    ¡°Because there are rules, Ingrid¡­ rules the Chief doesn¡¯t like being broken.¡± Rann sighs to himself again, shaking his head.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯d run away and tell them where Haven is. I live there. I wouldn¡¯t jeopardise it.¡± Ingrid tries to explain her side with her own somewhat warped reasoning, but Rann isn¡¯t having it.

    ¡°So about where we¡¯ll find this scrap metal, Johnny¡­?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yeah. Turns out, there¡¯s piles of weapons all over the place down here, if ya know where to look. Problem is, they¡¯re rusted ta hell an¡¯ back, and often cursed too.¡± Johnny sticks his hands out, wearing a similar pair of thick leather gloves that Rann gave me. ¡°That¡¯s why we got these. A good blacksmith can turn ¡®em back into perfectly good metal, but ya don¡¯t wanna get even the tiniest cut while gatherin¡¯ them. Believe me, ya don¡¯t wanna know what the curse does.¡±

    ¡°Your jaw swells, and you lose the ability to talk or eat, until you starve to death.¡± Einar cuts in.

    ¡°Oh, who asked you? Have you got no appreciation for the art of suspense?¡± Johnny scoffs, tossing a glare back at Einar.

    ¡°Why have suspense when you¡¯re supposed to be telling her about the dangers of what we¡¯re doing?¡± Arshak narrows his eyes at Johnny.

    ¡°Johnny likes telling stories, Arshak. I like listening to them.¡± Arshiya smiles.

    ¡°It¡¯s not even a story! Johnny¡¯s just dragging out explanations again!¡± Arshak argues with his sister.

    ¡°I get it, wear the gloves and make sure I don¡¯t get cut, aha¡­¡±

    A curse from a rusty blade, that causes your jaw to swell, making you lose the ability to talk and eat? Tetanus, by the sounds of it. A curse is probably the best way of understanding it, especially given there¡¯s likely no cure available. The gloves are a sensible choice.

    South we go. Thankfully, not east to the mud pine forests, but west, closer to the western black cliffs of the Abyss. The forests to the southwest grow featureless and mundane¡­ as forests in the Abyss go, anyway. There are no features or landmarks to navigate with, but for the ever-present cliffs looming on the horizon. It¡¯s easy to get lost, if you don¡¯t have a destination in mind. Not that I¡¯m aware of anything of note, in these south-western reaches, between the southern mud pines and the rocky outcrops shielding Haven from sight.

    That said, the stench of smoke grows thicker in the air in the direction we¡¯re headed. Fire pits, I presume. Holes in the earth within which great roaring fires burn, never extinguishing beneath the blood rains. Real hellish stuff. Whatever¡¯s burning in them, it¡¯s an unpleasant smell, even for the abyss. It¡¯s not like wood or coal burning, or something organic, but it¡¯s like¡­

    Rotten eggs, maybe? Doesn¡¯t that mean it¡¯s burning sulphur So¡­ brimstone?

    Fire and Brimstone. Hell or not, it¡¯s sure ticking a lot of hell-adjacent boxes.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we close enough? That smell is really starting to get to me¡­¡± Arshak complains, pinching his nose.

    We come to a stop in a small clearing. There¡¯s a faint yellow glow coming from behind the trees to our right, and judging by the smell, we¡¯re pretty close to some fire pits.

    ¡°Well, Arshak. Can you see any metal?¡± Rann asks.

    Arshak moves a few steps forward, scanning the ground around his feet, before leaning down to grab something from the mud with a gloved hand. He pulls up something filthy that vaguely resembles a sword.

    ¡°How¡¯s¡­¡± As he grabs it more firmly, the rusted-through sword practically disintegrates under his grasp, falling back to the mud in two pieces. ¡°This.¡± Arshak sighs.

    ¡°That won¡¯t do.¡± Rann shakes his head. ¡°But it means we¡¯re in the right place.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Ingrid leans over to grab something she spied in the mud; an axe head, by the shape of it. She gives it a couple flicks to check that it¡¯s solid, and nods to herself as she drops it into her leather sack. ¡°They¡¯re good enough for nails and hinges. Not much more than that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we need, Ingrid. Alright, let¡¯s fill these sacks. Don¡¯t take more than you can carry, and make sure it won¡¯t crumble on the trip back.¡± Rann gives the order, and the rest of the group spreads out across the clearing to scour the earth for more weapons. He turns to face me, placing his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Marina. Be careful moving through the mud, so you don¡¯t step hard on anything sharp. If you see something, bend or crouch down to grab it, don¡¯t kneel. Even a tiny cut can be fatal. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Understood, sir.¡±

    ¡°Good lass.¡± He smiles, patting my shoulder and handing me a sack.

    The others seem to have no problems finding random bits of weapons and armour, so it shouldn¡¯t be too hard. I move to an unoccupied corner of the clearing, watching my steps, carefully scanning over the ground¡­

    All I see is mud.

    The others are having to dig a bit to find anything, so I should do the same. I crouch down, feeling through the mud with a gloved hand. These gloves are so thick it¡¯s difficult to move my fingers, so they should keep me safe. It¡¯s hard to notice the shape of anything metallic-looking, so it¡¯s more likely I¡¯ll feel something before I see it¡­ ah?

    My hand brushes against something hard and solid. Big, too, somewhat round, but oddly shaped¡­ a helmet? After digging away some of the mud, it looks like a helmet. With horns, I should add. Maybe I can pull it out by the horns¡­ If it isn¡¯t stuck so firmly in the mud¡­ gah!

    With a heave, I yank it out of the mud as I stand back up. It¡¯s a helmet, alright. Big curled horns on the side. The inside of it¡¯s clogged with mud, so I should probably dig that out, there¡¯s just something solid stuck inside it¡ª

    ¡°¡ªGyah?!¡±

    I¡¯d have fallen over backwards were it not for my wings rushing out and gently pushing me forwards to keep me upright. A clod of mud fell away to reveal an empty, pale eye socket of the skull buried within the helmet. The jolt from the shock loosened it, and the skull fell out, crumbling in on itself when it hit the ground. A curled, rigid horn extended from both sides of the skull. Its structure looks human, but¡­ humans don¡¯t usually have horns.

    ¡°Sheesh, Feathers. Pullin¡¯ up a skull on your first dig¡¯s some bad luck. Not a bad lookin¡¯ helmet, though.¡± Johnny glances over at me, holding a rusty sword in his hand.

    ¡°You alright, Marina? Not cut yourself?¡± Rann came over to check on me.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, just¡­ bit of a shock. You could have told me there might still be body parts holding onto these weapons and armour¡­¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t.¡± Rann shrugs. ¡°Usually.¡±

    ¡°Usually, uh huh¡­ still, not a bad looking helmet.¡± It has an open face, and the horns have some weight. It looks like the helmet¡¯s horns were made to hold the¡­ original owner¡¯s horns. Means it has more metal, and it¡¯s easier to hold it by the horns.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Ingrid peers past Rann, her eyes fixated on the helmet as she moves past him. ¡°Mind if I test something?¡±

    ¡°Sure?¡±

    Ingrid thumps the top of the helmet with her fist. The whole thing crumbles and shatters like pottery, leaving me holding two unsubstantial ornamental horns that turn to iron-rich mush in my hands.

    ¡°Not good enough. Keep looking.¡± Is her assessment, as she turns to check on how the others are doing.

    ¡°Sure thing, Ingrid¡­¡± I really get why she rubs the Chief the wrong way.

    So, we spent a good two hours sifting and digging through the mud, backs strained and noses wrinkled from the foul-smelling fire pits. We mostly found small fragments of weapons and armour that we tested for durability before either putting them in the sack or tossing them on the growing pile of rejected iron mush that was forming in the middle of the clearing, but there was the occasional more intact item found here and there. A solid hammer¡¯s head, a nearly intact sword, a vambrace Arshiya found that, fortunately for her, didn¡¯t contain part of its original owner.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    I haven¡¯t bothered to ask why there¡¯s countless bits of weapons and armour strewn about this place, buried beneath the mud as if massive wars have been fought over this gaping hole in the earth. I can guess as much. Something to do with the God of War¡¯s body we¡¯re likely standing on, probably. Weapons and armour and¡­ bodies found buried in the mud makes more sense than some of the other places down here, like the Stonefields or the Ghostwood. A former battle site is more understandable than a silent forest of tombstones or whatever the hell the Ghostwood is.

    It took us about an hour to get here, and it¡¯s past midday by now. No one¡¯s been in a rush to get this done, now that we¡¯re all mostly used to the rotten egg stench. This far west, there isn¡¯t much concern about being spotted or followed. Yes, there was the incident with the wildling, but they¡¯ve never caused trouble for Haven itself before. I was a little worried this was being taken too lightly, but Rann assured me that he¡¯d encountered dozens of wildlings over his time in the Abyss, and never has Haven been threatened for it. Wildlings aren¡¯t the social types, if they even still have a basic grasp of human language.

    Besides, I trust my wings¡¯ vigilance. They¡¯ll notice if we¡¯re being watched or followed.

    ¡°Well.¡± Rann clears his throat, rubbing his hands together. ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯ve picked this place clean of all it¡¯s worth.¡±

    ¡°Ya think? We haven¡¯t found anythin¡¯ of worth in the last half hour!¡± Johnny complains, standing up and stretching his arms. ¡°Backs stooped over nothin¡¯...¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Rann glances back at the knee-high reject pile in the middle of the clearing. ¡°You think we have enough, Ingrid?¡±

    ¡°We had enough an hour ago, but the Chief insisted we take as much time as we could.¡± Ingrid shrugs, checking the contents of her leather sack.

    ¡°She did? Why?¡±

    ¡°She said to take as much time as we need to get more than what we need, Ingrid.¡± Rann sighs.

    ¡°No, she said-¡± Ingrid starts,

    ¡°Ingrid.¡± Rann cuts her off. She gets whatever he¡¯s hinting at.

    ¡°So does that mean we can head back now? I need to go stand under the Crystalfall for a while to get this stench outta my nose.¡± Johnny says, swinging his sack over his shoulder.

    ¡°I guess so.¡± Rann sighs, picking up his sack. ¡°Let¡¯s head back. Sooner we get away from the fire pits, the better. Wouldn¡¯t want to deal with any flamecrawlers.¡±

    ¡°... Any what?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll¡­ actually, it¡¯s better if you don¡¯t see. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± He pats my shoulder.

    ¡°Hey Rann, what are these weird marks along the track we followed to get here? It looks like something stabbed the mud hundreds of times¡­¡± Arshak calls, crouching in front of the path leading out from the clearing.

    Rann grunts; a noise like someone just dropped something heavy on his foot, but he¡¯s pretending that it didn¡¯t hurt to not cause a fuss. ¡°Don¡¯t mind that. We¡¯re leaving-¡±

    SPLAT.

    Everyone immediately looks in the direction of the noise. Ingrid lifts up her sack, having just swung it down hard on¡­ whatever it was, it was squashed into a yellowy-green puddle in the dirt.

    ¡°The hells did you just flatten, Ingrid?¡± Johnny blinks, walking over to inspect the puddle.

    ¡°A bug. Looked like a centipede. It was going after my foot.¡± Ingrid explains.

    We¡¯re all stopped in our tracks as an entirely new foul stench makes its presence known. An acrid, horrid, burning smell that threatens to singe your nose hairs off, burning like acid down the back of your throat, leaving you wheezing as you try to get it out of your lungs.

    ¡°What¡­ the hell¡­¡± Arshak coughs, clutching his chest in pain as he nearly doubles over.

    ¡°Gods-damned flamecrawler¡­¡± Rann wheezes, gritting his teeth. ¡°Where there¡¯s one, there¡¯s¡­¡±

    To finish his sentence, dozens of flamecrawlers suddenly emerge from the underbrush between us and the flame pits. Centipede-like creatures, ranging from as big as your hand to as big as your arm, rushing out towards us.

    ¡°I suggest we run.¡± Einar calls, and the seven of us, haggard and wheezing, set off running down the track.

    The flamecrawlers aren¡¯t that fast, but it¡¯s very hard to run when it feels like liquid fire has been poured straight into your lungs. More of them appear along the track as we run, having to dodge and step over them to avoid squashing another and potentially stopping us in our tracks again. I feel my wings flutter restlessly against my back, and while I appreciate the offer, wings, if we run out of energy, fall, and crash, we¡¯re both screwed. I¡¯m sticking with my feet.

    ¡°Gods, Ingrid¡­¡± Rann grunts as he runs, taking deep, heaving breaths. ¡°The hell did you squash it for? You squash one, the stench they release draws all the others to them!¡±

    ¡°It was going for my foot. I didn¡¯t want to risk it biting me.¡± Ingrid explains, remarkably straight-faced as we¡¯re running for our lives.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got thick leather boots on, for Gods¡¯ sake! It wasn¡¯t going to bite you through them!¡± He growls at her.

    ¡°Why are they still chasing us?!¡± Arshak yells while looking back over his shoulder, as more flamecrawlers have appeared behind us, following our trail as they grow into a living carpet of bugs chasing us through the forest.

    ¡°Drop the damned sack, Ingrid! It¡¯s got their stench all over them!¡± Johnny yells, noticing Ingrid¡¯s still got her sack with her.

    ¡°But it has the best metal we found¡­¡± Ingrid frowns.

    ¡°Drop it! Do you want to drag these things all the way to Haven!?¡± Rann yells, all the more shocking from someone who rarely raises their voice in anger.

    Ingrid sighed dejectedly, dropping her sack as we ran. Sure enough, the swarm of flamecrawlers stopped chasing us, scrambling and crawling all over the sack as it disappeared beneath their mass. We kept running as far as our legs would take us, finally coming to a halt once the flamecrawlers were long out of sight, dropping what sacks we still had as we struggled to catch our breaths, that burning sensation in our chests refusing to subside.

    ¡°Gods¡­¡± Rann wheezes, thumping his chest to try get that stench out of his lungs. ¡°I¡¯m getting too old to run like that¡­¡±

    ¡°Too old? Since when did you start complainin¡¯ about your age?¡± Johnny pants, clearing his throat.

    ¡°How old are you, Rann? I know you¡¯re older than Vann, despite the fact you¡¯re his grandson.¡±

    ¡°Sixty-something. Haven¡¯t kept count. Been down here some thirty years or more.¡± He shrugs lightly, picking his sack back up and tossing it over his shoulder like it doesn¡¯t weigh anything. He¡¯s by far the most physically able sixty-something-year-old I¡¯ve ever seen.

    ¡°I figured the older members of Haven would be¡­ older, given that only children have turned up for the past twenty years, but I never thought you¡¯d be in your sixties.¡±

    ¡°Ah. We didn¡¯t tell you the whole story then, did we?¡± He raises an eyebrow at me, then smiles. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. I¡¯ll tell you on the way there.¡±

    We set off back to Haven at a leisurely pace as Rann regales us of his early days in the Abyss. I was told that only children had been turning up in the Abyss for the past twenty years. Partially true, but not the whole picture. In Rann¡¯s time, some thirty years ago or more, there were no children in the Abyss. Most of those who were reborn here were who you¡¯d expect, given the likelihood the Abyss is the earthly remains of the God of War. Warriors. Those who died fighting. Haven didn¡¯t have a schoolhouse back then, and it was less of a unified village and more a rest spot for those inhabiting it. It had the farm going, but there were several expedition parties, who all usually headed out on hunting trips. They had weapons, food, supplies, and roofs over their heads. Most had to have the ability to fight, hunt, and gather, but the craftsmen of Haven had settled in; the tanner, the tailor, the previous blacksmith, etc.

    Occasionally, the expedition parties would return with an extra member. Rather than absorbing whole groups, the modus operandi was to rescue those lost by themselves. Those that managed to survive on their own likely wouldn¡¯t be a burden, and also likely had no connections to other groups who may go looking for them and risk discovering Haven. This was how Rann joined Haven. It was, later, how he found Vann. They started to notice a trend, though; the people they found kept getting younger. Einar was in his late teens when he was found; meaning he¡¯s roughly forty years old by now, but was still an adult by the standards of the time.

    Johnny, however, is thirty. He¡¯s been in Haven for twelve years, meaning he was found when he was eighteen, making him an adult. The turning point came when, twenty years ago as Rann was accompanying the previous Chief out on a hunt, they found a glum, quiet nine-year-old boy. That boy was Rob. The first child they found in the Abyss. They never found anyone older than twenty after they found Rob. They kept getting younger and younger. Johnny is, like me, an exception. He was the only person aged fifteen or above they¡¯d found, until they found me. Minegumo and most of the kitchen and tavern staff besides Anton, the Chief, Tiff, and almost everyone under thirty were found as children.

    The expedition parties brought back every child they found. None of them had the heart to leave a child to fend for themselves in a place so dangerous and wild. This dramatically changed how Haven was run. The residents of Haven all collectively agreed to protect, nurture, and raise the children they found as if they were their own. A couple spare buildings were turned into the schoolhouse and the bunkhouse. Yvonne, the oldest member of Haven still with us, was a teacher in her past life, and took up the main role of teaching and raising the children. Many of the craftsmen took on young apprentices to teach them their skills, more or less adopting them in the process. Anton practically raised everyone who works in his kitchen. The town was called Haven, after all, and that¡¯s what it would be: a haven for the children left adrift and alone in a harsh, cruel world.

    ¡°So¡­ before you found Rob, you¡¯d never heard of or seen any children in the Abyss before?¡± Arshak asks, having also just heard this story for the first time.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say if Rob was the first child sent to the Abyss. He was just the first one we found.¡± Rann answers, keeping his eyes forward.

    There may have been other children in the Abyss before Rob. It¡¯s a big place. Rob was just the first one to get lucky¡­ as if being reborn down here meant you had any luck left.

    ¡°How old were you when you were found, Ingrid?¡±

    ¡°Seventeen.¡± Is her blunt response.

    ¡°Eh? But-¡±

    ¡°She means when you first woke up down here, Ingrid.¡± Rann calls back from the front.

    ¡°Oh. Twelve, then.¡± Ingrid corrects herself.

    ¡°Ah, I guess you were found by the Keepsguard first, then.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She clenches her fist, frowning at the mere mention of them.

    ¡°Boy, that was sure a day when Ingrid walked straight into our camp. Your fingers still hurt from that day, don¡¯t they Einar?¡± Johnny grins.

    ¡°That was years ago. They¡¯re fine.¡± Einar squints back.

    ¡°He took a swing at me from behind. I simply defended myself.¡± Ingrid defends herself, despite the fact that she hasn¡¯t yet been accused of anything.

    ¡°You broke half his fingers when you whacked him with that stick you were carrying, Ingrid. Not the best way of introducing yourself.¡± Rann sighs to himself.

    ¡°Attacking someone from behind isn¡¯t a good way to introduce yourself, either.¡± Ingrid huffs.

    ¡°Wait, so Einar took a swing at you from behind like he did to me?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t block it?¡± Ingrid asks, seemingly surprised at this.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have a weapon!¡±

    ¡°Your wings have weapons.¡± She points out.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know how to use them!!¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± She tilts her head, perplexed.

    ¡°Kids¡­¡± Rann stops, sighing like a tired, worn-out parent.

    ¡°Hey, you chose ¡®em. It¡¯s up to you to make sure your kids don¡¯t fight.¡± Johnny chuckles, patting Rann on the shoulder as he passes him.

    Before long, we¡¯re back home, making our way up the main street of Haven. The Chief stands at the road¡¯s apex outside the tavern, talking with Anton before she notices us, raising an eyebrow as she crosses her arms.

    ¡°I said to take as much time as you need, but I didn¡¯t expect you to be this long¡­¡± The Chief questions.

    ¡°We took our time.¡± Rann shrugged, as the rest of us handed him the half-full sacks we were carrying. ¡°Had to run for our lives a bit. Nothing unusual.¡±

    ¡°Run for your lives from what, exactly? And why are you missing a sack? You each had one when you left.¡± She pushes, noticing we¡¯re short one leather sack.

    ¡°Flamecrawlers. That sack¡¯s theirs now.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°And how did¡­¡± The Chief looks across at Ingrid, who noticeably did not hand her sack to Rann, as she doesn¡¯t have one. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s no matter. Did you bring back enough, then?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s enough. I had to leave the best metal behind, though.¡± Ingrid frowns.

    ¡°Now do you see why there are rules about this, Ingrid?¡± The Chief flashes her threatening smile.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t told of the flamecrawlers. We¡¯d be fine if I was told.¡± Ingrid shrugs indifferently.

    ¡°Alright, you, let¡¯s get this back to your smithy.¡± Rann says, guiding Ingrid to follow him towards the blacksmith and away from the Chief.

    ¡°Honestly¡­¡± The Chief sighs to herself, rubbing her forehead.

    ¡°Well, now that that¡¯s over.¡± Anton watches Ingrid and Rann disappear from sight, then glances over the rest of us. ¡°I¡¯ve kept a pot of soup warm, so if you want lunch, you will find it in the tavern.¡±

    ¡°Soup?¡± Johnny blinks. ¡°I¡¯ve been smellin¡¯ something sweet, and it sure ain¡¯t soup.¡±

    ¡°Soup is what you¡¯ve been offered, and it¡¯s what you will receive, Johnny.¡± Anton glares back over his shoulder before disappearing into the Tavern.

    There is an unusual sweet smell in the air, but it¡¯s not coming from the tavern. No, It¡¯s coming from¡­

    ¡°The bakery¡­?¡±

    ¡°You just gonna stand there, Feathers, or are you gonna get some food?¡± Johnny slaps me on the shoulder as he passes me, the rest of the group making their way to the tavern.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be coming with me, Johnny. I need her help with a few other matters.¡± The Chief clears her throat to get our attention.

    ¡°Eh? I don¡¯t get lunch¡­?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get lunch! Just stop fretting and come with me.¡± She huffs, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me towards the library with an unusual amount of force.

    ¡­

    So far, the only ¡°tasks¡± I¡¯ve helped the Chief with is to have lunch with her, and then just sit by the fireplace reading books for most of the afternoon. In her spare time, she¡¯s been teaching me to read the Underlander script based on the Common language, and has decided that this afternoon will be dedicated to putting those reading skills to practise by reading books written in Underlander. Not that I¡¯m complaining, as I have read through nearly all the Giornovan and Drachensprache-written books already. The majority of the library¡¯s contents are written in Underlander, so it¡¯s good to unlock access to the rest of the library¡¯s content.

    The Chief recommended me the series of short stories known as Tashina¡¯s Tales, recollections of the adventures the legendary Damned explorer, Tashina, and the nameless author who writes down their journeys and sells them as adventurer¡¯s novels, a hallmark of cheap literature from the Overlands that have proven just as popular in the Underlands. Such stories are often embellished to a ridiculous extent, but the nameless author accompanying Tashina seems far more concerned with sharing his own opinions on the matter at hand then whatever almost unbelievable thing Tashina¡¯s gotten up to. It makes for a fun dynamic, and a nice distraction.

    Though, the distraction from my distraction has been the Chief, seated across from me. She¡¯s been pretending to read the same rather light book this whole time, and I know she¡¯s pretending because I know how fast she reads. She seems far more concerned with watching me like a hawk than the book in her hands. Every time I go to meet her gaze, she hurriedly glances back down at the book she¡¯s pretending to read, then looking back up at me the moment my gaze shifts from her. There¡¯s the occasional knock at the door every now and then; every time, the Chief insists I stay put as she hurries down the stairs, speaks in hushed tones with whoever¡¯s at the door, then comes back up and sits down like nothing happened.

    She¡¯s not nearly as good at hiding things as she may think she is, even if I don¡¯t know what exactly she¡¯s trying to hide. Again, I can¡¯t complain about having a front seat to this rather adorable performance of hers. Though, I try not to think about how cute this is whenever I see her brows furrowed into her sharp, scornful glare.

    The Chief¡¯s unusual antics aside, it¡¯s been a pleasant, quiet afternoon. I woke up in a bad headspace, but running for your life, then sitting down with a few good books can do wonders to clear your mind.

    ¡­

    Finally, dinnertime rolled around. Whatever the Chief was fretting about seemed to be resolved, and she finally settled in to actually start reading her book, and the other two she blitzed through the hour before dinner.

    The tavern was bustling with energy, more so than usual as the second bunkhouse neared completion. The dinner rush came and went, as people slowly filtered back out into Haven to make their ways home, with a few groups staying behind. I sat over in my usual quiet corner, content to idly eat my stew and people-watch.

    Thankfully, I¡¯d eaten most of my dinner when the entire expedition team appeared out of nowhere behind me, pushing me from my quiet corner and dragging me to one of the long central tables.

    ¡°W-what? Have I done something? Can¡¯t I finish my dinner in peace?!¡± I stammer out as I¡¯m sat down at the bench beside the table. Johnny, Rob, and Einar sit to my right, with Arshiya and Arshak to my left, as Rann makes himself comfortable across from us.

    ¡°Chief¡¯s orders, Feathers! You¡¯re sitting with us now!¡± Johnny grins, grabbing a flagon off the table and having a mouthful of whatever¡¯s in it.

    Others, too, hurry over to the table. Tiff and Vann, Anton and most of the kitchen staff, and some of the kids too. Emi, Rickard and Lizabeth I recognise from back when we met Crow, Hadrian and Mei with¡­ where¡¯s Irie?

    ¡°Marina!¡¯ Irie¡¯s soft voice says, as she squeezes onto the bench between Arshiya and I.

    ¡°Eirene! But¡­ what¡¯s everyone gathered here for?¡±

    ¡°Ahem.¡± The Chief clears her throat, standing at the head of the table. ¡°First of all, thank you to everyone who has gathered here. Though it has been a while since we¡¯ve had such a gathering, tradition is tradition, and this is one I¡¯m quite fond of.¡±

    There¡¯s a few chuckles from the adults and giggles from the children. Whatever this tradition is, I¡¯m none the wiser.

    ¡°It has been a while. I believe yours was the last, Adri.¡± Vann smiles. Last what?

    ¡°It is tradition in Haven, Marina, that on one¡¯s first birthday after arriving in Haven, a celebratory gathering is held with the whole town. This was started when I was young, to lift the spirits of the children brought to Haven, to help return some normalcy to their lives. However, given the¡­ circumstances of your passing, we felt it impolite to host a large gathering, but still wished to follow tradition. So, Marina¡­¡± Everyone¡¯s eyes are drawn to me, as a simple, sweet-smelling cake is placed down on the table before me. ¡°Happy birthday.¡± The Chief smiles warmly.

    ¡°Happy birthday!¡± Everyone says in near-unison. I glance over my shoulder to see Minegumo standing behind me, having handed me the cake herself.

    ¡°Did you bake this, Minegumo?¡±

    ¡°Of course I did.¡± She states, putting her hands on her hips and sticking her nose up with pride. ¡°I¡¯m Haven¡¯s baker.¡±

    The cake, simple and brown, smells strongly of the maple syrup-like¡­ stuff I encountered when I first awoke in Haven, but it has a wonderful caramel-y smell to it too. Though, one, two¡­ ten¡­ twenty¡­ how is this not a large gathering in the Chief¡¯s eyes?

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be really thin slices if everyone wants a slice¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your cake Marina. You can have the whole thing if you wish.¡± The Chief brushes off my concern.

    ¡°But cakes are made to be shared! There won¡¯t be enough to go around!¡±

    ¡°Not to worry.¡± Anton speaks, dexterously placing down a second cake on the table, identical to the first. ¡°Minegumo baked two.¡±

    ¡°Y-you did?¡± The Chief blinks in disbelief, caught off-guard. ¡°I only requested one cake.¡±

    ¡°When I asked you who would be there, Chief, you listed off more than twenty different names. Of course I baked more than one cake. Your idea of a ¡°small gathering¡± is warped.¡± Minegumo says, putting my thoughts into words. ¡°Now we just need a clean knife to cut it. Larousse, did you bring one from the kitchen?¡±

    Larousse shakes his head, looking at the other kitchen staff who all shake their heads in turn, causing a bit of a ruckus as a few of them head back to the kitchen to find a suitable knife.

    They needn¡¯t worry, though. I¡¯ve got eight knives with me at all times.

    Sensing my idea, my right wing pushes out from under my cloak, its outermost blade extended halfway, dexterously making two clean slices into the cake before me, then slipping its flat-tipped blade beneath the slice to delicately lift it up from the rest of the cake, all while I sit there with my arms crossed and my head held high. Well done, wings. An impressive feat of coordination.

    ¡°... Those wing-swords of yours clean, Feathers?¡± Johnny voices his concern.

    ¡°Wh- Of course they¡¯re clean!¡± I grab the slice and stuff part of it in my mouth for good measure. ¡°Ifhh hey werend, I wouhnn¡¯d done id!¡±

    ¡°Ey, don¡¯t talk with ya mouth half full, fill it up!¡± Johnny jabs back, and the others laugh. Fortunately, the kitchen staff secured a proper knife, and everyone got to have a slice of Minegumo¡¯s freshly-baked cakes. Their sweetness came from the sweettree sap that the expedition team were gathering when I first stumbled into their camp. Now, that¡¯s come full circle.

    The events of my last birthday didn¡¯t cross my mind once that night, or the day after.

    I may never see my old family again¡­ no, I should stop pretending.

    I will never see my old family again.

    But my new one¡¯s doing just fine.

    And that¡¯s more than a good enough reason to keep going.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven

    ¡°Open the gates.¡± The Chief gives the order, her head held high as the gates of Haven rumble open.

    Waiting just outside the gates are the tired, huddled, but excited group of the first Wolf Pups to make the long journey from the Capital. Twelve of them in all, their eyes lighting up as they take their first steps into Haven.

    Standing ready to receive them are all five members of the council, some of the elder artisans of Haven, the guards stationed by the gate, and myself, as the Chief¡¯s assistant of course. The children of Haven are currently supposed to be in the schoolhouse for their morning lesson, but I don¡¯t think anyone minds that a good number of them are hiding between the buildings along the main street, curiously peering at the first new children to arrive in Haven in over two years¡¯ time. Even Yvonne, their teacher, is amongst the children, keeping an eye on them as they excitedly whisper amongst themselves.

    The small group is headed by Jackhorn and Bear, wearing their respective carved masks over their faces. Jackhorn scans the surroundings, stopping to watch the sliding gate be pushed shut behind him, before turning back to face us.

    ¡°Well. I¡¯ll be. There really is a whole town out here in the middle of nowhere. Colour me impressed.¡± Jackhorn comments. I forgot that his accent and manner of speaking is near-identical to Johnny¡¯s.

    ¡°Impressive, certainly. We never would have found it, had we not had a guide.¡± Bear nods in agreement, speaking in their even-tempered tone.

    ¡°Welcome to Haven, Wolves of the Abyss. I hope your journey was safe and swift.¡± The Chief nods in turn, smiling warmly.

    ¡°Ba-ban! Rabbit has returned to Haven!¡± Rabbit practically bounces up to Jackhorn and Bear, standing proudly between them. ¡°I was entrusted by Her Majesty to lead the first party of the Wolves to Haven, and to remain at Haven as leader of the Wolves¡¯ first Party of Haven!¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re staying with us, Rabbit?¡± Tiff asks, a little surprised but very happy to hear it.

    ¡°Yes!¡± Rabbit beams from ear to ear. Gods, it¡¯s impossible not to smile when she¡¯s around.

    ¡°Ahem. Then, if the members of this party could line up and sound off.¡± Jackhorn clears his throat.

    Seven of the other children quickly form a straight line, standing to attention with Rabbit at the head.

    ¡°Rabbit, ten, adventurer!¡± She starts.

    ¡°Otter, ten, pathfinder.¡± The boy to Rabbit¡¯s right says. With his fluffy brown hair, he does look like an otter.

    ¡°Owl. Nine. Lookout.¡± The girl with big, brown eyes next to Otter says. I¡¯m starting to see where Arza gets her name ideas from¡­

    The other four Wolf Pups sound off; Calico, a young boy with multicoloured hair, Shrike, with a black band painted across his red eyes, Dormouse, a very short but energetic girl, and the youngest, Doe, who¡¯s only six years old, but asserts she¡¯s capable of doing anything grown-ups can do.

    It hasn¡¯t escaped anyone¡¯s notice that there are three more children in the group before us, huddled up together standing behind the line formed by the Wolf Pups. None of them are wearing the hooded cloaks all the other Pups wear.

    ¡°A pleasure to see you all again and to welcome you to your new homes, brave Wolf Pups. However, I don¡¯t recognise the three children behind you¡­ are they new?¡± The Chief tries to peer past the Pups, but the children at the back seem determined to hide themselves.

    The younger Pups look among themselves with concern, stepping aside to clear the way as Bear walks back to the three unknown children, who huddle closer to one another as the attention falls on them. Even from here, they look filthy, with dirt on their hair and their faces, their clothes dirty rags whose edges are dyed reddy-brown from the iron-rich mud of the Abyss.

    ¡°They¡¯re the first rescues.¡± Jackhorn answers, crossing his arms as he glances back at the three of them. ¡°Found them near Dead Man¡¯s Dream. Figured we¡¯d bring them with us.¡±

    ¡°Let GO OF ME! You said you were taking us somewhere safe, somewhere with other children! You¡¯ve just taken us to more adults!!¡± The tallest of the three yells, trying to push Bear away as the youngest one clings to their leg. The third of them, who looks to be between the other two¡¯s ages, just stares blankly ahead, seemingly oblivious to what¡¯s going on.

    ¡°You will be safe here. The people of Haven have our Queen¡¯s trust, so they have ours.¡± Bear calmly speaks as the tallest one struggles rather helplessly against Bear¡¯s strength. ¡°Though, I have yet to see any of the children of Haven myself.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re supposed to be in school right now.¡± The Chief speaks, loud enough for everyone around to hear as she glances back at the nearest group of children hiding just around the corner of the barracks. ¡°But, I suppose an exception can be made for once¡­ you can come out now.¡±

    With the Chief¡¯s permission, the twenty-odd children of Haven filter out onto the main street, gathering into a crowd before the Wolf Pups to get a better look at them. Most of them already know Rabbit, but introductions are exchanged, and the children begin to happily talk with each other and to welcome their new friends to Haven.

    Seeing this, the angry, tall child at the back with the other two rescued children falls quiet as they watch the others mingle. The children of Haven are all happy and healthy, smiling and laughing with their new friends. It¡¯s enough to get them to calm down a little, as Bear leads the three of them up to the council. The tallest one is a boy, with short dark hair and scowling red eyes that look at everything with distrust. The middle one looks to be a boy with pale-blonde hair stained reddish-brown with mud, but his glassy eyes just stare off into the distance aimlessly, and the youngest is a little girl with dark red hair that¡­ can¡¯t be older than five years old. She looks like she doesn¡¯t fully understand what¡¯s going on.

    ¡°Those are the three we rescued on our way here. We found them near one of the outposts. They were with a small group that had a few adults, but¡­ their group was attacked by the Breakers.¡± Bear explains.

    She doesn¡¯t need to elaborate on what happened after their group was attacked by the Breakers. We know what it means; that the adults were either killed or kidnapped, and that the children were left to fend for themselves¡­ or die, to be more straightforward. The attack certainly left their mark on the older of the two children. The oldest clings to the younger two children protectively, with the youngest looking around with wide eyes, still clinging to the tallest boy¡¯s leg, while the middle child¡­

    I can recognise a thousand-yard stare.

    The Chief notices too. As for what her soulseer¡¯s eye sees, I can only imagine. Though she¡¯s smiling, whether she¡¯s aware of it or not, she¡¯s clenching her fist.

    Tiff kneels down so her head¡¯s level with the tallest of the three, smiling gently. ¡°I¡¯m Tiffany, but you can call me Tiff if you¡¯d like. I help run things in Haven, and I help look after the children. What are your names?¡±

    The oldest looks Tiff up and down with a scowl, but it¡¯s difficult for anyone to resist Tiff¡¯s natural warmth and kindness, emanating from her like the warm touch of the afternoon sun. Though he looks over the rest of us distrustfully, he decides there¡¯s no harm in speaking his own name.

    ¡°... Kado.¡± He says. A Heian-sounding name.

    The little girl looks up at Kado for permission, smiling when he gives her a nod. ¡°I¡¯m Anna!¡±

    The other boy doesn¡¯t answer.

    ¡°This is Jorm.¡± Kado says, placing a hand on Jorm¡¯s shoulder. Jorm reacts a little, but his gaze remains aimless and unfocused. ¡°He doesn¡¯t talk much.¡±

    Tiff reaches out, gently patting Jorm on the head and lightly ruffling his hair. Jorm looks like he might collapse from the touch, he¡¯s so gaunt and skinny, but Tiff¡¯s touch seems to finally get his attention, turning his head to look at her.

    ¡°Well~¡± Tiff stands up straight, raising her voice to get the childrens¡¯ attention. ¡°These brave Wolf Pups and their new friends must be hungry after their long journey, but it¡¯s a little late for breakfast, but not quite lunch time¡­ whatever are we to do?¡±

    Anton clears his throat, glancing across at Tiff. ¡°Luncheon is served every day at midday on the dot, Tiffany. I¡¯m sure our guests can wait one more hour.¡±

    Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served at the same times every day, without fail. Seven to Nine in the morning for breakfast, Twelve to One in the afternoon for lunch, and Six until Nine in the evening for dinner. The children know this regime better than anyone. Still, that isn¡¯t stopping every child in Haven from looking up at Anton with a silent, pleading look on all their faces. While Anton acts oblivious to this, the Chief has taken notice, putting her hands on her hips and giving Anton a disapproving sideways look. The Wolf Pups have travelled a long way, they shouldn¡¯t have to wait another hour for a warm meal. It¡¯d do a world of good for the three rescued children, as well.

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Anton rolls his eyes, giving in. ¡°I suppose an exception can be made. Very well, then. The stew should be ready.¡±

    With an excited cheer, the crowd of children hurry up the road to the tavern with Yvonne behind them, bringing along the Wolf Pups and the three rescued children with them. The two Red Wolves stand off to the side, watching the crowd disappear through the tavern¡¯s front doors.

    ¡°Well.¡± Jackhorn speaks, stretching his arms. ¡°The kids¡¯re in good hands. We should be headin¡¯ back, Bear.¡±

    ¡°Not before we get a warm meal in your bellies first~¡± Tiff grins, suddenly appearing between Bear and Jackhorn, throwing an arm around each of them.

    ¡°What the- The hells did you get here so fast?! Her Majesty¡¯s expectin¡¯ us back home!¡± Jackhorn struggles, his effort to resist fruitless in the face of Tiff¡¯s upper body strength.

    ¡°We could use a warm meal, Jackhorn. I certainly wouldn¡¯t turn one down.¡± Bear nods, making no effort to resist Tiff as she coaxes the two of them towards the tavern.

    Most of the rest of the group disperse back to their workplaces, or up to the tavern for some early lunch. Vann heads up behind Tiff to help keep an eye on the children, leaving Rann, the Chief and I watching them all head up the road. The Chief allows herself a small smile, relaxing her shoulders a little, but her fist is still clenched. Rann notices too, when the two of us exchange a silent look.

    ¡°They¡¯re safe now.¡± Rann speaks, giving the Chief a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

    ¡°... Nothing.¡± She says, looking down at her hand. She was clenching it so hard she¡¯s left red marks across her palm.

    ¡°Nothing?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. That boy had¡­ nothing about him. Not even a hint of colour.¡± Her voice catches in her throat, lowering to a growl. ¡°What did they do to them¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re safe, Mia.¡± Rann squeezes her shoulder, getting her attention. ¡°Whatever happened to them, it won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    ¡°But there are others out there. Others that could go through the same thing-¡± She continues, her voice trembling in fury, that children could be subjected to such things, but Rann gives her another squeeze.

    ¡°Mia.¡± He says once more. I put my hand on her other shoulder, telling her she¡¯s not alone in facing this.

    She sighs, finally letting go of the tension in her body, taking a moment to recollect herself.

    ¡°I apologise for that. I¡¯ve seen countless different emotions before, but never have I seen just¡­ nothing. Almost nothing. They reacted a little to Tiff¡¯s touch, but¡­¡± She trails off, staring down at the ground.

    ¡°They¡¯re in our care now. They¡¯ll be alright.¡± I smile.

    ¡°Guh¡­¡± She sighs again, fixing her posture. ¡°You¡¯re right. They¡¯re safe now, and I won¡¯t get anything done by being miserable. Come on, let¡¯s get lunch.¡±

    The three of us head up the main road in silence, with the Chief leading us. Rann and I exchange a few more looks. We¡¯re worried for Jorm, but equally as worried for the Chief. Her composure is rarely shaken like that. In a way, she¡¯s more vulnerable to the emotions of others than most, as much as she tries to hide it. Rann¡¯s right, though. Kado, Anna, and Jorm are safe now. It¡¯s up to us to look after them.

    ¡­

    ¡°Where exactly did you find Kado, Anna, and Jorm on your journey towards Haven?¡± The Chief asks, seated at the middle of the council¡¯s table, with Rann and Vann either side of her.

    The early lunch service had come and gone. The first Wolf Pups to arrive in Haven were being shown around town by Yvonne and their new classmates. Tiff had taken the three rescued children to her house, to give them a proper bath and get some clean, dry clothes on them. Everything was going as planned, even accounting for Kado, Anna, and Jorm. But it¡¯s the circumstances of their arrival that worries the Chief, which is why Bear and Jackhorn have been brought to one of the upstairs rooms of the tavern to discuss what happened.

    ¡°They were found by our scouts, and brought to the western outpost, which is where we found them on our journey here from the Capital. They were fed some rations, and they¡¯d managed to get some rest before we arrived, but it was apparent they hadn¡¯t eaten or slept well in days. After some discussion, Jackhorn and I decided it was in their best interest to come with us to Haven.¡± Bear explains, sitting up straight in their chair, with the posture of someone who¡¯s been taught how to sit properly and respectfully.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t much to discuss.¡± Jackhorn shrugs, leaning back in his chair as he looks toward the window. ¡°They were in a real sorry state. Nothin¡¯ wrong with the Capital, of course, but we don¡¯t have as many warm beds or warm meals as Her Majesty says you do. Figured they needed those comforts more than we do.¡±

    ¡°It is what your Queen and I agreed upon. We will uphold our end of the agreement, no matter what.¡± The Chief nods sternly.

    ¡°The question still stands, though.¡± Rann comments, crossing his arms. ¡°Where did your scouts find them? You said they were part of a group attacked by the Breakers.¡±

    ¡°They were some ways south of the western outpost.¡± Bear answers, adjusting her posture. ¡°They don¡¯t know where they were when their group was attacked, or when they were attacked. All they knew is they¡¯d been on their own for a few days. As for the Breakers¡­ they¡¯re still in the east. Our scouts would have noticed if a group so large had moved westward.¡±

    ¡°What have their movements been? Do you keep a constant eye on them?¡± Vann asks.

    ¡°No, but we don¡¯t need to. They ain¡¯t exactly the quiet types who try an¡¯ hide their movements. Easy enough to get an idea of where they are.¡± Jackhorn answers nonchalantly, waving off Vann¡¯s concern.

    ¡°Have the three told you anything about the group they were with?¡± The Chief leans forward as she asks her question.

    ¡°Kado said it was a small group. Less than ten, all up. They were the only children, and they were brought together by the adults that found them. They were with that group for less than six moons before they were attacked, the adults were taken, and the children were left to fend for themselves.¡± Bear¡¯s tone changes just slightly as they talk about the attack. Their voice is monotone, but very smooth and clear, which makes even slight changes more noticeable.

    ¡°Left to die, ya mean.¡± Jackhorn clicks his tongue. ¡°Breakers don¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass about kids.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the people of Haven understood my meaning, Jackhorn. Some things are better left unsaid.¡± Bear responds, their impassive mask gazing across at Jackhorn.

    ¡°We¡¯re well aware of what the Breakers do.¡± The Chief sighs lightly. Now that I think of it, I don¡¯t know how many people in Haven besides Rann have directly encountered the Breakers before, but we¡¯ve all heard the stories. They¡¯re practically a roaming horde of marauders, plundering, enslaving, and killing anyone who gets in their way. She clears her throat, before asking: ¡°What did you tell the three of them about Haven?¡±

    ¡°Rabbit did most of the talkin¡¯. She was the only one of the group that¡¯d seen Haven for herself. I don¡¯t think the older one believed everything she said, but the little one sure ate it up.¡± Jackhorn chuckles to himself. ¡°A real adventurer¡¯s town, down here in this dirty red hell-hole. I wouldn¡¯t believe it either if I didn¡¯t see it for myself.¡±

    ¡°And Jorm?¡± The Chief clasps her hands together on the table. ¡°How was he on the journey here?¡±

    ¡°As he is now.¡± Bear lets out a quiet sigh. ¡°Silent. Not a word spoken.¡±

    ¡°Kid¡¯s seen stuff no kid should see.¡± Jackhorn turns his head towards the window again. ¡°Give him time. Had similar cases before. Once they settle in, they¡¯ll open up. They¡¯re safe here.¡±

    ¡­ I¡¯m starting to wonder.

    The Chief, Bear, Rann, even Jackhorn. All saying, swearing, that the rescued kids are safe now. They are safe, comparatively speaking. Haven is most likely the safest place in the Abyss. But it¡¯s been said so much that, in the back of my mind, doubt is starting to gnaw at me.

    They¡¯re safe, now.

    But Haven isn¡¯t completely insulated from the dangers of the Abyss. Its location is kept secret from outsiders, yes, but that didn¡¯t do much to stop that carrion hawk landing in the middle of town¡­ and killing Nate. It¡¯s better than most places, but nowhere down here is completely safe. Especially not for children.

    Will they be safe tomorrow? Or the day after?

    ¡°Marina?¡± The Chief¡¯s voice brings me back to reality. Shit, I was spacing out.

    ¡°Y-yes, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Could you please join Rann in escorting the Red Wolves to the gate?¡± She asks. Rann, Jackhorn, and Bear are already by the door. I get up and follow them out, down the stairs of the tavern and out onto the main street.

    ¡°You two sure you don¡¯t want to see around town before you go?¡± Rann asks, looking across at Jackhorn and Bear as we near the main gate.

    ¡°This ain¡¯t the last time we¡¯ll be visitin¡¯ Haven. Plenty of opportunities to look around town in the future.¡± Jackhorn shrugs.

    ¡°How did you decide who would come to Haven first?¡±

    ¡°Her Majesty chose from among the volunteers.¡± Bear chuckles lightly. ¡°Nearly half the pups volunteered. Her Majesty decided to send some of the younger children first, with Rabbit and Otter to look after them.¡±

    ¡°Not gonna lie, we kinda foisted some of the littler ones on you so we have less work to do at the Capital. Frees up more hands for other work like scoutin¡¯ and such.¡± Jackhorn admits, but Rann just laughs.

    ¡°Not a bad idea. We¡¯ll look after the kids. Younger ones¡¯ll go to school, and the older ones can help around town. They¡¯ll earn their place.¡± Rann smiles. They¡¯ve already been given warm beds, warm food, and a new home. There¡¯s nothing to earn, but those words put the two Red Wolves at ease.

    ¡°Jackhorn! Bear! You¡¯re leaving already?!¡± A young voice calls, and all the Wolf Pups, including a few of Haven¡¯s children appear from behind the barracks, standing between the gate and the two Red Wolves.

    ¡°We¡¯re expected back at the Capital, kids. Can¡¯t let Her Majesty wait too long, can we?¡± Jackhorn chuckles, ruffling Otter¡¯s hair.

    ¡°But Jackhorn! You haven¡¯t seen the Crystalfall yet! It¡¯s big and blue and the air is cool around it, but it doesn¡¯t have a secret behind it like a proper waterfall!¡± Rabbit pouts, sounding rather unhappy that there¡¯s no ¡°secret¡± behind the Crystalfall like it¡¯s supposed to be a given.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Rabbit. This is far from our last trip to Haven.¡± Bear says warmly, giving Rabbit a reassuring pat on the head.

    ¡°Good, you¡¯re still here.¡± The Chief says, standing behind Rann and I, with Vann beside her. Vann¡¯s holding a leather sack swung over his shoulder. ¡°We can¡¯t just send you home empty-handed, after all.¡±

    Vann hands the sack to Bear, who looks it up and down through their mask.

    ¡°Don¡¯t open it until you get back home. Salted meat¡¯s got a pretty obvious smell.¡± Vann nods, standing beside Rann.

    ¡°Salted? Where the hell did you get salt down here?¡± Jackhorn asks, staring at the sack in confusion.

    ¡°Fifty barrels were brought down when Haven was built. Less than half have had to be opened.¡± The Chief answers.

    ¡°Brought down¡­¡± Bear ponders, looking up at the towering black cliff, looming silently over Haven.

    ¡°This place was built by those from outside the Abyss, using a crane on the surface. This was meant to be a safe way in and out of the Abyss.¡± Vann explains, crossing his arms as he looks up at the cliffs.

    ¡°Then one day, the crane went up as usual, and never came back down.¡± Rann finishes.

    ¡°As for what happened to the crane, and the supposed settlement on the surface¡­¡± The Chief glances across at me and smiles. ¡°We¡¯ll find out sooner rather than later.¡±

    ¡°That reminds me.¡± Bear turns to look at me. Obviously, it¡¯s harder to read someone¡¯s emotions if they¡¯re wearing a mask, but Bear¡¯s voice is so smooth and even, and their mask even more passive than other Red Wolves¡¯... I really can¡¯t get a read on them. ¡°Her Majesty wished to know how your flying practice was progressing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going well. If these cliffs really are six hundred tals high, I don¡¯t know when I¡¯ll be strong enough to fly that high, but I¡¯m getting stronger every day. Hopefully, I¡¯ll be able to make it sooner, rather than later.¡± I parroted the Chief¡¯s words a bit, but it¡¯s how I feel. I can take off and land just fine. I don¡¯t have to worry about turning or horizontal distance, it¡¯s just going straight up. And coming straight down in a controlled manner.

    ¡°Her Majesty will be pleased to hear that.¡± Bear nods politely. I can hear their smile in their voice.

    ¡°One way or another, as Chief of Haven, I will deliver on my promise.¡± The Chief steps forward between Rann and Vann, her hand on her chest. ¡°We will make it out of the Abyss. All of us.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt ya, that¡¯s for sure. I just got one question.¡± Jackhorn tilts his head up, glancing between Rann and Vann. ¡°Are you two brothers or somethin¡¯? Ya sure look alike.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Vann, ostensibly the younger-looking of the two, smiles and pats Rann on the shoulder. ¡°No, actually. This young man here is my grandson.¡±

    ¡°Ey, don¡¯t go pullin¡¯ my leg. It¡¯s a simple¡­¡± Jackhorn doesn¡¯t believe it at first, but no one makes any effort to correct Vann. ¡°Y-you serious?¡±

    ¡°Hard to tell.¡± Rann, with his greying hair, shrugs his shoulders as he tosses a look at Vann. ¡°This old codger¡¯s memory isn¡¯t what it used to be.¡±

    ¡°W-wha¡­¡± Jackhorn¡¯s lost for words. The children of Haven giggle amongst themselves. Uncle Vann and Uncle Rann¡¯s comedy routines are something they never get tired of. Though, the Wolf Pups are a little confused about this as well.

    ¡°If you two are quite finished.¡± The Chief sighs lightly, playing up her feigned frustration. ¡°I do believe our guests are expected elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°You heard the Chief, old man. If your hearing still works.¡± Rann chuckles dryly.

    ¡°I heard her loud and clear.¡± Vann responds, before raising his voice; ¡°Open the gates!¡±

    With a great heave, and the grunts of exertion from the guards, the gates of Haven rumble open. The children step aside as the two Red Wolves stand tall, ready to make the journey home as the clunk of wood on wood signals the gates have opened completely.

    Before either of them can move, however, Doe, the youngest of the Wolf Pups to arrive in Haven, runs out and hugs Jackhorn¡¯s side.

    Jackhorn clicks his tongue annoyedly, before he relents, patting Doe on the head. ¡°Alright. Anyone who wants a hug, get over here.¡±

    All the Pups run over and hug the two Red Wolves goodbye. Though they¡¯re sad to see them go, they know they¡¯ll see them again soon. It¡¯s heartwarming, and even the Chief can¡¯t help but smile at these earnest kids.

    Once everyone¡¯s been sufficiently hugged, and Jackhorn gave them all a ruffle of their hair, the two Red Wolves set out on the journey home, with the Pups, the Haven kids that joined them, and a few of the guards waving them goodbye. The gates move again with a heave, slamming shut into one another.

    It takes me a moment to realise the attention of the gathered children has shifted from the closed gate to myself. Or rather, judging by their starry eyes¡­ I think I know what they want to see.

    ¡°Umm¡­ Miss, um, Marina¡­¡± Doe takes a step closer to me, rubbing her hands together nervously, not knowing how to ask politely for what I know she wants.

    Very well. It¡¯s been a while since you¡¯ve gotten some attention, wings.

    Right on cue, both wings rush out from under my cloak with a graceful flourish, reaching skyward with their pinion feathers, before settling back down around my sides. Both the Pups and the kids of Haven are overjoyed by this display, surging forward and around me to touch and pat the soft, fluffy wings they can¡¯t get enough of. My wings can¡¯t get enough of the attention either, it feels.

    ¡°Is it true that you can fly now, Marina?¡± Rabbit asks with her big hopeful eyes.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± I say with a proud smile. ¡°I can show you, but you¡¯ll have to step back.¡±

    The children quickly hurry back, forming a rough circle around me a good dozen steps back, with Rann and Vann making sure the kids aren¡¯t too close.

    With sufficient space, and the thought of reaching roof-height in mind, both wings give a mighty flap to launch me into the air, creating such a gust of wind it briefly blows everyone¡¯s hair back, easily reaching the desired height, keeping my balance steady as I let my wings focus on keeping me airborne.

    ¡°Woooow¡­!¡± The kids¡¯ faces all light up in wonder, running back up to me after I deftly land back on the ground. I can take off and land, no problem at all. I still¡­ feel a little unsteady after the exertion, but it¡¯s not like I¡¯m about to collapse or anything. Still a long way to go, but I¡¯ve come a long way already.

    ¡°W-what¡­¡± An unfamiliar voice says from behind me.

    I turn to find Tiff standing on the main road, with Kado, Anna, and Jorm with her, all clean and wearing new clothes. The three kids are shocked at what they probably just saw¡­ that being me flying in the air, wings and all. Right. This is their first time seeing them. Not only that, it¡¯s the first time they¡¯ve seen me fly. Probably the first time they¡¯ve seen anyone fly. Even Jorm seems visibly shocked at what he¡¯s seen.

    Gods, how do I approach this, uh¡­

    While I¡¯m fretting over how to handle this, Rabbit walks up to the three of them, leaning down to Anna and pointing towards me.

    ¡°Miss Marina is a very nice person, and her wings are very soft and friendly. Do you wanna touch them?¡± She asks with a gentle smile.

    Anna looks back at me, or my wings, rather. They are soft, and certainly more well-behaved than before. She goes to step towards me, but Kado, worried, grabs her shoulder and pulls her back.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t bite, Kado. And I¡¯m sure you¡¯re just as curious about them as Anna and Jorm are~¡± Tiff gives the three a gentle, playful push forward.

    They approach me apprehensively, but eventually their curiosity gets the better of them. Anna reaches out, touching a fluffy inner feather, and she giggles. Kado, still distrustful, pokes at my wing to see how it¡¯ll react, while Jorm shyly touches a pinion feather. Thankfully, my wings have also gotten much better at concealing the blades within them, so there¡¯s no risk they¡¯ll cut the children by accident.

    Tiff can¡¯t help but giggle.

    ¡°What?¡± I frown.

    ¡°You really have a way with children, Marina.¡± She smiles.

    ¡°Do I? I¡¯m fairly certain it¡¯s just because I¡¯ve got these fluffy, attention-loving things stuck to my back.¡± I sigh, as a crowd of children has formed around me again. My wings are too busy basking in the attention to care about my insults towards them.

    ¡°Miss Marina is a very nice person, with or without her wings!¡± Rabbit asserts. A wing reaches up, tickling her nose with an outstretched feather, making her giggle. ¡°But her wings are very nice too!¡±

    ¡°Alright, children, Marina has some work to do. You can¡¯t spend all day hugging her wings.¡± The Chief claps her hands, getting their attention. ¡°Kado, Anna, and Jorm haven¡¯t been shown around Haven yet. Can you help Tiff, Uncle Vann and I show them around?¡±

    The children all nod and cheer in agreement, forming a group that heads up the main street with Tiff, Vann, and the Chief at their head, leaving Rann and I alone in front of the gates.

    The three rescues seem to have perked up a lot, Jorm especially. The kids of Haven are always happy to welcome new friends. Hopefully, the worst the Abyss has to offer is something they¡¯ll never have to deal with again.

    Still¡­

    ¡°Are they safe now¡­¡±

    ¡°As safe as they can be.¡± Rann pats my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s up to us to ensure that.¡±

    ¡°In a way, it feels like it was just yesterday when that carrion hawk just appeared in the middle of Haven¡­¡±

    ¡°That usually doesn¡¯t happen. As grim as it is, we¡¯re lucky we only lost one person.¡± Rann crosses his arms. ¡°Could have been far worse.¡±

    ¡°I know she was restraining it, but why didn¡¯t the Chief just¡­ blow it away with her magic?¡±

    ¡°Because, chains aside, she was told not to use destructive magic in town. The last time she did, she destroyed the gates and nearly killed all the guards near it. I¡¯m no mage, nor am I one of her rank, but when she lifts that staff of hers, she rarely holds back.¡± He sighs to himself. ¡°We¡¯re lucky it didn¡¯t cause any issue when she blew away that mana-whatever in the Ghostwood.¡±

    ¡°I met a sage before, once. A Sage of The Rushing Gale. They were certainly¡­¡±

    ¡°Arrogant?¡± Rann finishes for me.

    ¡°Certainly not lacking in self-confidence, for sure. I wouldn¡¯t call the Chief arrogant, though, just a bit¡­ headstrong.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just part of magic to me. You need to be at least a bit self-assured to wave a stick around with the confidence that you¡¯ll shoot fire from it. Headstrong is certainly one way to describe the Chief.¡± Rann chuckles.

    ¡°Whatta you two doin¡¯ here all by yourselves?¡± Johnny asks, walking out onto the main street.

    ¡°Johnny? Where¡¯ve you been?¡±

    ¡°Movin¡¯ stuff down in the Cellars. Heard the first group of kids got here. They doin¡¯ okay?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll settle in fine.¡± Rann nods.

    ¡°Shame, Johnny. You missed that ¡°north side punk¡±. He left a few minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°I missed who?¡± Johnny blinks, before realising who I¡¯m talking about. ¡°What?! You mean that mask-wearin¡¯ north-side punk was here?!¡±

    Rann and I just laugh at Johnny¡¯s exasperation.

    ¡­

    It¡¯s after dinner.

    Well after dinner, in fact. I should be in bed.

    The Chief should be, too, but for the past few hours she¡¯s been sitting on her lonesome on the first floor of the library, staring into the fireplace as it slowly dims and fades with each passing hour. Normally, she sits in the chair facing the stairs, but she¡¯s been sitting in the chair facing away from the stairs this evening. An unusual deviation from her routine.

    Something¡¯s on her mind, and I can¡¯t just go to sleep without checking on her first.

    ¡°Chief?¡± It¡¯s getting pretty late.¡± I say, tapping her on the shoulder as I stand beside her chair.

    ¡°Hmm? Ah, Marina¡­¡± The Chief jumps slightly like she wasn¡¯t even aware I was there, getting up from her seat. ¡°It is, yes¡­ you should head to bed.¡±

    Her eyes remain fixed on the fireplace, huddling up her arms like she¡¯s cold.

    ¡°You should too, Mia. Especially if you¡¯re cold.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not cold.¡± She corrects me, shooting me a look. ¡°Just¡­¡±

    ¡°Worried?¡±

    She grunts and frowns, but doesn¡¯t correct me this time.

    ¡°It¡¯s Kado, Anna, and Jorm on your mind, I assume.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She exhales sharply. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±

    ¡°When you said Jorm had almost no colour about him¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ improved, somewhat. He hasn¡¯t spoken, but he ate most of his dinner, and isn¡¯t quite so distant as he was when he got here. The three of them are staying with Tiff for the night.¡± She sighs. ¡°She¡¯s better at looking after them than I am.¡±

    ¡°How are Kado and Anna?¡±

    ¡°Kado has a hard time trusting others, adults especially, but we¡¯ve hidden nothing from him and been honest. He¡¯ll come around. As for Anna¡­¡± Her gaze falls to the floor, squeezing her arm. ¡°She¡¯s too young to be able to really understand what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°How old are they? Anna in particular doesn¡¯t look any older than-¡±

    ¡°Four.¡± She growls, clenching her fists in anger. ¡°Eleven, seven, and four. Four! For years, we never found anyone younger than five, which is bad enough, but four years old? To die so young, only to end up in this, this¡­ hell-hole?! It¡¯s¡­¡±

    She stops, taking a deep breath to try and steady herself.

    ¡°Gh¡­ getting worked up over it accomplishes nothing. You¡¯re right. I should head to bed.¡± She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose before she turns and heads towards the stairs to the second floor.

    ¡°Mia.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She looks back at me, halfway up the stairs.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to rely on others, you know. You don¡¯t have to shoulder everything by yourself.¡±

    ¡°I know that.¡± She tisks. ¡°Why else would I permit you to live under my roof?¡±

    She takes another step upwards, before stopping again and pouting a little as she admits to what she¡¯s really thinking. ¡°I know I can rely on you, Marina.¡±

    With that, she disappears upstairs into her room.

    I hope that one day she actually learns how to show that she cares for others without shrugging them off first¡­

    But I¡¯ll take it. She¡¯s worried, clearly, and she¡¯s more vulnerable to the emotions of others than most, something she herself seems unaware of sometimes.

    I just have to do my part to help make things better, one day at a time.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight

    ¡°How are the three of them settling in, Tiffany?¡± The Chief asks, taking a sip from her mug as she leans forward in her chair.

    It¡¯s the morning of the third day since the first Wolf Pups, and the three rescued children Kado, Jorm, and Anna arrived. The three rescues are still staying in Tiff¡¯s house for the time being as they adjust to their new life in Haven, and so she can keep a close eye on them. The Pups have had no trouble settling in, with all of them joining the school classroom for a few weeks so they can all learn to read, at bare minimum. They¡¯re all capable and fiercely proud of their own ability, and there¡¯s been little to worry about with them.

    The rescued children are of greater concern, so Tiff has come around to the Chief¡¯s residence to talk about them, as the three of us sit by the fire.

    ¡°Well, Kado¡¯s been a little difficult with how protective he is with the younger two, but he¡¯s starting to trust the other children, at least. They¡¯ve done a good job of getting him to open up.¡± Tiff chuckles lightly. ¡°Anna is very well-liked. The other children are happy to have a new, adorable little sister, though she rarely leaves Kado¡¯s side. The only time she lets go of his leg is when Rabbit takes her and the younger children on an ¡°adventure¡± to go see the Crystalfall.¡±

    ¡°That certainly sounds like Rabbit.¡± The Chief smiles warmly, but her expression turns serious as she moves to her next question. ¡°And Jorm?¡±

    Tiff takes a deep breath as she sinks down into her chair.

    ¡°Not good.¡± She says quietly, staring down at her clasped hands in her lap.

    The Chief sighs to herself. She was expecting this. ¡°Not good how, Tiffany? I¡¯ve only seen him outside his room once in the past three days.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s exhausted, mind, body, and soul, but he¡¯s not getting any sleep. He¡¯s not¡­ letting himself sleep. He eventually gets so exhausted he does give in and finally falls asleep, but he doesn¡¯t rest for long before he wakes up in terror, sobbing and clutching his pillow for hours.¡± Tiff squeezes her hands. ¡°He does calm down, eventually. He doesn¡¯t want to be held, but he lets me sit by him and rub his back until the tears subside, but¡­ it¡¯s taking a toll on him. He¡¯s eating less and less. He doesn¡¯t want to leave his room, not even with Kado and Anna. They¡¯re looking after him right now, but I spend most of the day and night keeping an eye on him.¡±

    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll improve, Tiff¡­?¡± I tentatively ask, but I fear I already know the answer.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain.¡± She lifts her head, nodding to herself. ¡°But I¡¯m not going to give up on him. Not even for a moment.¡±

    Tiff isn¡¯t the type to give up on people. Jorm¡¯s in the best hands possible to look after him.

    That hasn¡¯t assuaged the Chief¡¯s worries, though. Even as Tiff¡¯s been speaking, she¡¯s just been scowling down into her mug, her lips twisted into a pained frown of frustration.

    ¡°Chief¡­¡±

    Tiff notices the Chief¡¯s scowl, too. She smiles to herself, getting up and walking over to her, resting her hands on the Chief¡¯s shoulders and levelling heads with her as the Chief finally looks up.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mia. He¡¯s as far away from the dangers of the Abyss as anyone can get down here. Whatever happened to him, we won¡¯t let it happen again.¡± Tiff reassures her, but the Chief¡¯s gaze falls back to her own lap.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just the Abyss that did this.¡± Her voice shakes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself. ¡°It was people. Other living beings, committing acts of savagery and hate in a place already rife with danger and death. Yes, Jorm is safe with us now. What about the others lost out there? The other children lost out there?¡±

    ¡°Mia¡­¡± Tiff kneels down in front of her, taking her hands in her own and looking up at her. ¡°We focus on what¡¯s in front of us, okay? One step at a time.¡±

    ¡°I know that.¡± She huffs, tilting her head up as she still tries to avoid Tiff¡¯s gaze. ¡°It doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    ¡°Miiiaaaa¡­¡± Tiff pouts, gently cupping the Chief¡¯s cheeks in her hands. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t spend all day worrying, you know. You¡¯re too young to be getting wrinkles all over your pretty face¡­¡±

    ¡°I am not getting any wrinkles!¡± She retorts, pushing Tiff away as she crosses her arms and legs, turning up her nose in disapproval even as her cheeks turn bright red. ¡°Honestly, Tiff, I don¡¯t know where you get these ideas¡­¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s much cuter when she¡¯s blushing, isn¡¯t she~?¡± Tiff looks back at me with a playful grin.

    ¡°She is!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not blushing!!¡± She yells, blushing. ¡°Don¡¯t you join in, Marina!¡±

    Tiff is right about the Chief¡¯s cuteness when she blushes. The Chief thinks she¡¯s a walled-off, restrained and serious person, but Tiff knows exactly how to circumnavigate her defences to lightly tease her. But she¡¯s also right that we need to focus on what¡¯s in front of us, doing things one step at a time.

    I clear my throat to let her know I¡¯m being serious before continuing. ¡°She is right though, Mia. It¡¯s best that we focus on what''s in front of us, rather than worrying about what lays ahead.¡±

    Sometimes, I think she gets so wrapped up in the thoughts and feelings of others, she doesn¡¯t stop to consider how it¡¯s affecting herself, or how she really feels about something. I understand that it¡¯d be hard to ignore how others are feeling when she can almost literally read their emotions at a glance.

    ¡°I know.¡± She sighs wearily. ¡°But someone has to keep an eye on the future.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be you alone, Mia. You have others here to support you.¡±

    She gives me a stern look, before rubbing her forehead and sighing again. ¡°I really have been out of it if you two are coddling me so much¡­¡±

    ¡°I mean, if you want, I can really coddle you, little Mia~¡± Tiff grins deviously.

    ¡°N-no. That¡¯s quite alright. Thank you for showing that you care, you two, but I¡¯ll be alright now.¡± The Chief quickly responds.

    ¡°... little Mia¡­¡± I mumble to myself.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear that.¡± She shoots her trademark glare at me.

    ¡°I heard nothing.¡± I awkwardly stand upright as if following an order.

    ¡°Good.¡± She nods, smiling to herself.

    ¡°Marina, would you mind coming along with me to check on the three kids?¡± Tiff asks, smiling warmly in stark contrast to the ¡°smiles¡± the Chief tends to flash. ¡°The younger two are quite enamoured with your wings, so seeing you might raise their spirits a little.¡±

    ¡°... They really have been domesticated, haven¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°The children?¡± Tiff blinks, giving me a quizzical look.

    ¡°My wings. They used to cut people¡¯s faces and thrash about violently. Now they¡¯re like a small animal that can¡¯t get enough attention from people¡­¡± My wing nudges against the back of my neck to express their annoyance. Don¡¯t you complain, you know I¡¯m telling the truth.

    ¡°They¡¯re certainly more well-behaved than they used to be.¡± The Chief adds. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten used to each other.¡±

    We have. It¡¯s only taken a bit over a year, but I¡¯m pretty used to my wings now. You¡¯d think it¡¯d take longer to get used to a whole new pair of limbs, let alone limbs with an attitude, but when you wake up to the same fact every day, it eventually just becomes normal. Besides, we¡¯re getting pretty good at flying now. I can fly high, and fly for more than a minute easily. By now, it¡¯s more just¡­ confidence.

    Daring to stick my head into the dark, low-hanging clouds. Seeing how thick they are. Something I¡¯ve been psyching myself up for for a while now, but¡­ it¡¯s really diving into the unknown. No one knows for certain what¡¯s up there. Hopefully not another carrion hawk, but that¡¯s not my fear. It¡¯s more the unknown itself. Unknown threats, unknown dangers. I¡¯ve gotten quite comfortable in Haven, and consider myself fortunate to have ended up in the most civilised corner of the Abyss. At least, I¡¯ve gotten comfortable enough that¡­

    I certainly don¡¯t want to end up dying again.

    Anyway.

    Tiff asked for me to come see the rescued kids, so I¡¯m heading down the stairs of the Chief¡¯s residence with her. Still.

    ¡°Little Mia¡­¡±

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t hear that, Marina~¡± Tiff says with a teasing grin as we reach the ground floor, hopefully out of earshot of the Chief.

    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to figure out how she¡¯d even get a nickname like that¡­¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ there¡¯s a few reasons she doesn¡¯t drink much. One of those reasons is she gets rather adorably clingy and needy when she¡¯s had a few too many drinks, and she finds that behaviour terribly embarrassing after the fact.¡± Tiff explains, with a hint of fondness in her voice.

    ¡°Now that you mention it, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen her¡­ well, drunk.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s been the Chief for a while now, and she takes her duties and responsibilities seriously. A little too serious, sometimes, but that¡¯s just the person she is.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, you talk about her like she¡¯s your little sister.¡± I smile at her. Tiff is in many ways the model big sister¡­ just don¡¯t tell my big sisters I thought that.

    ¡°Well, aha¡­¡± Tiff chuckles sheepishly, opening the front door. ¡°I do see her that way, I suppose. She works so hard, every day, for the betterment and wellbeing of everyone, and with how she was when she first came to Haven¡­ it¡¯s hard not to dote on her, sometimes.¡±

    The two of us head out onto the street, just in time to see a small group of children, led by Rabbit, making their way down Crystal Road. It¡¯s mostly the littlest kids with her, but notably Anna, Kado, and even Jorm are with her. Anna notices Tiff and I, and runs over to us all excited.

    ¡°Tiffy!!¡± Anna bounces on the spot. ¡°Rabby¡¯s taking us on an adventure!! We¡¯re gonna see the Crystalfall! Jorm¡¯s coming too!!¡±

    Tiff briefly looks shocked to see Jorm outside his room, but she smiles warmly, kneeling down to ruffle Anna¡¯s hair. ¡°You are, are you?¡±

    ¡°Yes!!¡± Anna excitedly nods.

    ¡°Be sure to look out for everyone on the way there, okay? It¡¯s a long and perilous journey, down the road all the way to the Crystalfall.¡± Tiff rests both her hands on Anna¡¯s shoulders, tasking her with a mission of great import.

    ¡°I will look out for everyone.¡± Anna nods sternly, giving a cartoonish but determined salute.

    ¡°Go on, then.¡± Tiff giggles, giving Anna a playful push back towards the group, as they continue on their adventure to see the Crystalfall.

    ¡°Should we follow along after them¡­?¡±

    ¡°Mmm¡­¡± Tiff ponders, watching the group slowly travel further and further away, down the Crystal Road. ¡°We¡¯ll leave them be, for now. Jorm is out of his room, and that¡¯s what¡¯s important. There¡¯s other things we can do.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡°Marina!¡± Irie smiles, running up to me and giving me a hug around my waist.

    ¡°Eirene!¡± I lean down and hug her, my wings coming out to wrap themselves around her in a warm, fluffy hug.

    Tiff has nearly as many responsibilities around town as the Chief does. Though on paper she¡¯s the head artisan, a large part of her daily work is looking after the children''s needs to help Yvonne. With the six Wolf Pups and the three rescued kids, there are now thirty-three children in Haven. Which is a lot of kids to handle, and that number will only grow, but Tiff has her helpers to make things more manageable: Eirene, Adri, Mei, Emi, and Rickard. Barring Eirene who is eight, they are all ten to twelve years old, and they keep an eye on things and tell Tiff if they feel anyone needs help with something, if there¡¯s a fight going on, et cetera.

    Of course, they¡¯re not perfect at their jobs; Rickard and Emi were two of the ones sheltering Crow from being found, but they were just doing what they thought was best, so there¡¯s nothing held against them because of it. If anything, that compassion is exactly the lesson Tiff seeks to impart on the children. They¡¯re mostly well-behaved, after all, and they look out for each other.

    The five of them were gathered in a corner of the tavern, where they usually meet with Tiff to discuss the goings-on. Tiff and I joined them at the table each with a warm drink from the bar (non-alcoholic, of course, to set a good example for the kids), with Irie happily huddling herself between us.

    ¡°So then, how are the new kids settling into Haven?¡± Tiff asks with a smile as she gently ruffles Irie¡¯s hair, making her giggle.

    ¡°The Wolf Pups are doing fine.¡± Emi answers, who if I recall correctly, is the oldest child here. ¡°They¡¯re capable and independent, so much so that they¡¯re having a hard time adjusting to the idea of, well¡­ relying on adults. But they trust them, at least. They know who¡¯s who.¡±

    ¡°We did take it on ourselves to discipline and instruct Shrike and Calico, whom we caught eating food they¡¯d stolen from the kitchen yesterday.¡± Mei nods.

    Tiff nearly chokes on her drink as she takes a sip from her mug, coughing into it and lowering her voice. ¡°They stole from the kitchen? When? Does Anton know?¡±

    ¡°Some time yesterday between breakfast and lunch, I think. We returned what they didn¡¯t eat, and I don¡¯t think Mr. Clemencau found out, so-¡± Mei starts to answer, before Rickard cuts her off.

    ¡°He will find out! This is him we¡¯re talking about, he probably knows already! He knows if so much as a spoon goes missing!¡± Rickard panics, trying to keep his voice hushed. He¡¯s been on the receiving end of Anton¡¯s fury before, and he knows what Calico and Shrike are in for if he finds out.

    ¡°They¡¯d only eaten a little bit, everything else was returned. He was probably expecting at least a little bit of food to go missing after the new kids got here. My sister was expecting as much.¡± Emi pats Rickard¡¯s shoulder to calm him down.

    ¡°Calico and Shrike said they were sorry. They said Haven had so much food, they thought no one would notice if they took a little, but we told them that they don¡¯t need to steal things. They can ask for things they¡¯d like, rather than having to just take.¡± Irie nods confidently, apparently having imparted this lesson upon them herself.

    ¡°... Did they apologise to you, or to Anton?¡± I feel like I would have heard if Anton found out things were taken from his kitchen¡­

    ¡°A-ah¡­¡± Irie twiddles her fingers nervously. Seems I hit the issue right on the mark. ¡°W-well¡­ Mr. Clemenceau can get quite angry, and, if he doesn¡¯t know, then¡­¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Tiff ponders. ¡°If he noticed, or if he was angry about it, the Chief and I would have heard about it by now¡­ so I think it¡¯s alright.¡±

    The kids all breathe a sigh of relief. The fury of Anton Clemenceau is something best avoided, and he won¡¯t hold back, regardless of who has drawn his ire.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that the Wolf Pups have settled in well.¡± Tiff smiles warmly, but she can¡¯t conceal the concern on her face as she asks her next question. ¡°How have the three rescues been?¡±

    The kids quietly exchange worried looks. Emi takes a deep breath, and speaks.

    ¡°Anna¡¯s doing well. Everyone loves her a lot, and she loves everyone. Kado is¡­ I know he¡¯s difficult around adults, but he¡¯s a lot more talkative when there aren¡¯t any adults around. He asks lots and lots of questions, but he''s starting to come around on trusting people. Jorm¡­¡± Emi trails off.

    ¡°I know. Today is the first time Jorm¡¯s left his room since he made it to Haven.¡± Tiff gives a small smile to reassure Emi.

    ¡°Is he eating¡­?¡± Irie asks, looking up at Tiff worriedly. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him come out for meals¡­¡±

    ¡°I bring his food to him every day, Irie. He¡¯s eating, but he¡¯s yet to clean his plate.¡± Tiff gives Irie¡¯s hair a soft ruffle. ¡°I was surprised to see him out of his room earlier.¡±

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    ¡°Emi and I went to check on him while you were busy yesterday, Tiff.¡± Rickard speaks up. ¡°Kado and Anna were with him then. Kado said Jorm and Anna were sleeping, and closed the door on us.¡±

    ¡°I had left them alone for a while because Jorm was sleeping, but Kado didn¡¯t have to close the door in your face¡­¡± Tiff sighs to herself.

    ¡°I understand. He¡¯s protective of them.¡± Emi says.

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what they must have gone through at the hands of the Breakers. I¡¯ve only heard stories of what they do, and none of them sound good.¡± There was that wild man we encountered while out chopping lumber, but¡­ I wouldn¡¯t count someone that far gone as people.

    ¡°Kado told us a little about what happened to the group he was with.¡± Mei says, clutching her hands together.

    ¡°He has? He hasn¡¯t told the Chief or I about anything that happened¡­¡± Tiff perks up at this information.

    ¡°All he knew was he was asleep one minute, and there was yelling and screaming the next. He took Anna to hide, but he couldn¡¯t find Jorm. All he could do was hide and wait for the yelling to stop. When it did, he waited longer, and came out of hiding to look for Jorm. He found him, huddled up against a tree and shaking. All their stuff was gone, or smashed to pieces. All the adults were gone, except one, who¡­¡± Mei gulps, furrowing her brow. ¡°Kado said there was a body of one of the adults on the ground. He couldn¡¯t tell which adult it was, because their body was beaten and trampled, and¡­ their head had been cut off. Kado doesn¡¯t know how much Jorm saw, only that when he found Jorm, Jorm refused to speak. He hasn¡¯t spoken since.¡±

    An uncomfortable silence falls over the table. In another world, what Mei spoke of would be far too graphic of a scene to recount to children, but¡­ it came from the mouth of another child who witnessed it.

    What Kado saw was the aftermath of it.

    What Jorm saw, and likely why he¡¯s been the way he¡¯s been, was the event itself.

    The Bone-Breakers. The only pack of savages in the Abyss large enough to earn themselves a name for their barbarity, and going by what Kado described and the Wolf Pups¡¯ tracking reports, the likely culprits of that incident. Rann told me their methods; those with broken arms can¡¯t fight back. Those with broken legs can¡¯t run. If you keep trying to resist or run, they¡¯ll just break your neck instead.

    I¡¯ve been there, in a way; falling victim to the cruelty of your fellow man. It¡¯s why I¡¯m here, after all. Worse still, I¡¯ve ended up in the same place where those who deal in such wanton savagery also keep turning up. Our hell may as well be their paradise.

    The more I hear of them, the more they churn my stomach, and the hotter that deep-seated anger burns in my chest.

    A small hand squeezing my own pulls me from my thoughts. Irie¡¯s holding my hand. I smile, and squeeze hers in turn, but Irie still looks a little worried. I must have been making a pretty dark expression as my mind drifted down that path, enough that she felt the need to reassure me.

    ¡°Thank you for sharing that, Mei. Understanding what happened to him helps a lot in helping him recover.¡± Tiff smiles warmly.

    ¡°Do you think¡­¡± Adri, who¡¯s been quiet for most of the time here, speaks up, nervously looking up at Tiff. ¡°He¡¯ll get better¡­?¡±

    ¡°He will, Adri. Tiffany is looking after him every day, and there¡¯s nothing Tiffany can¡¯t fix.¡± Mei nods assertively.

    ¡°Tiffany fixed the hole in my shirt last week!¡± Irie sits up, lifting up part of her shirt to show a portion near her collar that¡­ wow, only by really squinting can I tell there was ever a hole there to begin with. ¡°And she helped Rickard get all better when he had a cold!¡±

    The kids all agree that Tiffany¡¯s a wonder woman who can fix anything she puts her mind to, heedless of Tiff¡¯s slight embarrassment.

    ¡°Kids¡­¡± Tiffany chuckles.

    As we giggle, there¡¯s a small commotion by the front door as the gaggle of adventurers who set off for the Crystalfall return to the tavern for lunch. Kado¡¯s at the back of the group, carrying Anna on his back.

    Kado and Anna¡­

    ¡°Where¡¯s Jorm¡­?¡± I wonder out loud, but Tiff is already on her feet checking on the group.

    The group¡¯s adventure off to the Crystalfall had tired Jorm out, so they took Jorm back to his room before coming to the tavern to lunch, promising to bring food back to Jorm, who expressed some interest in eating. A marked improvement, over the last few days. Tiff¡¯s group of helpers moved over to one of the larger tables to join the other kids for lunch, and Tiff and I sat down with them to keep an eye on the rambunctious group of kids. They were happy. Kado in particular seemed relieved that he¡¯d gotten Jorm out of his room, though he couldn¡¯t stop worrying about leaving Jorm alone, even briefly, even though he personally tucked Jorm into bed. I volunteered to go check on him and bring him some food, so Tiff could watch over the group. I knew which room he was in, after all.

    Which brings me to now. Standing in the doorway of one of the guest rooms of Tiff¡¯s residence, looking into an unoccupied room.

    Did I¡­ he may be in the other room. There¡¯s two, after all, I may have gotten them mixed¡­

    The other room is empty, too.

    A cold chill brushes against my spine before I shake my head. No. I calmly set the food down on a table, checking the bed. Unmade. Slightly warm. He was here. There¡¯s only one door to Tiff¡¯s house, he can¡¯t have snuck past me. He must have left before I got here.

    But why would he leave? He was alone for ten minutes, at most. Where would he¡­

    He hasn¡¯t been eating, he hasn¡¯t been drinking, but he suddenly found the energy to walk to the Crystalfall, and now he¡¯s gone.

    And then, a memory I¡¯d almost entirely forgotten surfaced in my mind.

    Vincenzo, my little brother. My baby brother. Vinny. The little blonde-haired rascal with a smile that could get him out of anything. If Jorm smiled, he¡¯d probably look a lot like him, with how similar their hair is. It¡¯s good he had such an adorable smile, because he got himself into a lot of trouble, but one time was different. He was sick with a moderate cold, but he refused to eat and would hardly drink, which only made his condition worse. It was the first time he¡¯d gotten sick that bad, and he just didn¡¯t know how to handle it at his young age.

    Then, one afternoon while he was sick, he vanished from his room.

    Our home could have been called an estate if you were being generous, with the main residence and the various workshops and smaller buildings about it, but I¡¯d seen a few noble estates in my time to know what a real estate looked like. Still, it was a larger property to grow up on than most who weren¡¯t farmers or nobility. My parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents, my sisters, my cousins, even I practically turned the whole place upside-down trying to find him. We did eventually find him, shivering and sniffling in a corner in one of the unused storerooms, and I¡¯d never seen my parents so relieved and furious at the same time.

    Vincenzo didn¡¯t know why he wanted to just¡­ go and hide. But he did. It just came over him, as it can sometimes in children, sick or not.

    Now Jorm¡¯s gone. And he¡¯s got an entire village to hide in.

    And he¡¯s in a far worse state than Vincenzo was when he went and hid.

    In a blur, I¡¯m out of the room and charging down the stairs to find him, only to nearly bowl over Tiff who had just reached the bottom of them, bumping my chin against her forehead.

    ¡°M-Marina! What¡¯s the¡­ rush¡­¡± Her smile falls as she sees the obvious panic plastered across my face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Marina?¡±

    ¡°Jorm isn¡¯t in either room. The bed¡¯s unmade, and slightly warm, so he was definitely there, but-¡±

    Tiff takes my hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. ¡°Slow down, Marina. Breathe. He can¡¯t have gotten far, and there¡¯s only so many places to hide. We¡¯ll find him, okay?¡± She sighs to herself. Whether she¡¯s noticed it or not, her hands are shaking. ¡°I worried that this might happen if I ever took my eyes off of him¡­ we¡¯ll look for him together, and keep this between us for now. We don¡¯t want to worry the other kids, especially not Kado and Anna.¡±

    That was the plan, anyway, but we had barely made it out of Tiff¡¯s front door before we ran into Kado and Anna.

    Kado immediately knew what was going on, and before long, the whole town was turning Haven upside-down in an effort to find Jorm.

    With sixty-odd people looking for one boy, you think it wouldn¡¯t be long before he was found, but two hours of searching has so far turned up nothing. All the children have been indispensable in the search, checking every single hiding spot they knew of (many of which were completely unknown to the adults of Haven, until now) in hope that Jorm found one of them. Not a trace of him. The search expanded from the area around Tiff¡¯s house, to most of town, to the walls, cliffs, down towards the Crystalfall and down in the Cellars. He likely hasn¡¯t left Haven; the main gate is guarded, and the tunnel that Crow used to get in was sealed a while ago.

    He has to be here, somewhere. There¡¯s only so many places he could hide, but that¡¯s why I¡¯m stooped over in the Cellars with a lantern in hand, checking every dark corner.

    The Chief¡¯s worst fear was that, if he went down to the Crystalfall, he may have slipped and fallen into the water. It¡¯s highly unlikely he¡¯d be washed downstream anywhere with how shallow the water is, but that¡¯s where the majority of people are searching, around the pools and streams near the waterfall¡¯s base. There¡¯s only a few of us looking in the Cellars because, frankly, it¡¯d get pretty cramped and impossible to search with any more than a handful of people down here.

    ¡°Any luck¡­?¡± I ask the figure next to me, lifting up my lantern to see their face. Ah. It¡¯s Kazuma.

    ¡°This kid¡¯s pulled one hell of a disappearing act.¡± Kazuma sighs, rubbing the dust off his elbow. ¡°Lots of tunnels run through this place. Lots of places for a kid to hide.¡±

    There¡¯s a noise behind Kazuma, and both of us lift our lanterns as we turn to look. It¡¯s Tiff, with dust and dirt all over her face, panting as she brushes her dress off, having just crawled out of a waist-high tunnel. She looks¡­ fraught, understandably.

    ¡°Neither of you have found him?¡± She asks, wiping her brow.

    ¡°We¡¯re running out of places to look.¡± Kazuma shrugs.

    ¡°He can¡¯t have left Haven. He can¡¯t have. He has to be somewhere, we just haven¡¯t found where yet.¡± Tiff repeats, scanning across the lower level of the Cellars for any nooks and crannies that haven¡¯t been searched yet. ¡°Where could he have gone¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s more than one way out of Haven through these tunnels, y¡¯know, if you really want to find a way out. Would be too tight a squeeze for any of us to check.¡± Kazuma comments, glancing across the walls of the lower level of the Cellar we¡¯re on. Various cracks and crevices line the cave walls, some wide enough to squeeze through. More are wide enough for a child as small as Jorm to fit through.

    ¡°You¡¯re not helping, Kazuma.¡± Tiff snaps at him. ¡°If you know more ways out of Haven, go and check them.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure¡­¡± Kazuma nods, heading down the path along the wall to investigate some of the crevices further down.

    Tiff sighs to herself, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she scowls and mumbles. ¡°Where could he be¡­ I take my eyes off him for ten minutes and he disappears¡­¡±

    ¡°Wherever he is, it¡¯s somewhere he wants to be found.¡±

    ¡°E-eh¡­?¡± Tiff looks up at me like I¡¯ve just said something nonsensical.

    ¡°What, Big Sis Tiff has never had to go find a child that ran off and hid to sulk?¡±

    ¡°If a child runs off and hides, you give them space to themselves, and they¡¯ll eventually come back. That''s what Yvonne taught me, that¡¯s what I did a couple of times myself, and that¡¯s what¡¯s always happened, so why¡­¡± Tiff blinks, trying to make sense of it.

    ¡°No one ever came looking for you?¡±

    ¡°... Mia always did. She got really mad at me for running off and hiding like that¡­¡± She chuckles to herself awkwardly.

    ¡°But did you want to be found?¡±

    ¡°Did I want¡­ well, I always hid where you found me when I last, err, needed to cool off. It¡¯s quiet there, and hidden, but not so hidden that no one would think to¡­¡± Her eyes widen, and the two of us rush to her old hiding spot, on a higher level in the Cellars.

    And that¡¯s where we found him. Curled up in a corner, shivering, damp, gaunt and skeletal. He had a high fever as Tiff scooped him up into her arms with frightening ease. He barely weighed anything.

    It had started to rain as we brought him out of the Cellars, and whisked him back to Tiff¡¯s house to set him down by the fireplace, all wrapped up in the warmest blankets Haven has. Tiff was constantly by his side, as were Kado and Anna.

    But the fever he caught was too much for his weakened body to handle.

    He didn¡¯t make it through the night.

    ¡­

    The following day was somewhat of a blur. Jorm¡¯s funeral was organised and held, his remains cremated and his ashes washed downstream, just like Nate¡¯s funeral almost a year ago. The mood was different this time, though.

    Child mortality is an uncomfortable reality in this world, just as it was in our previous lives. After all, there¡¯s only one way so many children could have ended up in the afterlife.

    They died.

    From illness, from injury, from starvation or exposure, the reasons vary. It¡¯s not uncommon for children or even infants to die from sudden causes. Even in a world of magic, there¡¯s only so much a healer can do; magic can restore wounds and knit bones, but it can¡¯t cure a fever. My older sister Carina was very sickly as a baby, and my parents were worried she wasn¡¯t going to make it past the age of five with how often she was bedridden. Worst of all, no healer my father paid for could do anything about her condition. It¡¯s perhaps why my father was so inclined to spoil her. She was named for a younger sister of my father that died when she was young; an aunty I never met.

    We knew nothing of Jorm¡¯s family, or if he even had one. We don¡¯t even know how he ended up down here. He was yet another deceased child sent to hell for reasons only the Gods know.

    All he experienced was more suffering, and then a second death, shivering alone in a cave.

    There was only one question on many people¡¯s minds.

    Why?

    Why did it come to this?

    The children turned to each other for comfort, all huddled up in a group as the villagers watched the funeral pyre burn. Kado and Anna were in the middle of them, with Kado holding Anna in his arms. He stood silently and watched, as tears streamed down his face. Anna didn¡¯t cry. Perhaps she was too young to fully comprehend what was going on, but she knew something was wrong. She couldn¡¯t find Jorm, after all. She just watched the flames as she held onto Kado.

    The Chief had kept a stiff upper lip, as she is wont to do in these situations, but this had gotten to her worse than Nate¡¯s death. It was her duty as Chief to light the pyre, and I don¡¯t think she realised how pained she looked as she stepped forward to put the torch to the kindling.

    Tiff was¡­ I could tell she was waiting for a moment when she could just sit down and cry. Jorm had died under her watch, and that¡¯s what she believed no matter what others told her. She considered herself responsible, but she had other duties to do first. She had to make sure all the kids were okay, and that the other adults were okay, before she could look after herself. She was holding herself together until then.

    She wanted time to herself, and I¡¯d give her that. She could handle herself. It was the Chief I was more worried about.

    She was angry.

    I had gone up to check on her that evening before I went to bed, only to find her slouched in her chair staring at the fireplace, clutching a bottle of wine in hand.

    She never drinks straight from the bottle.

    She probably wants time to herself also, so¡­

    ¡°Marina.¡± She grunts, not looking up at me. She noticed me. ¡°Sit.¡±

    I quietly sit down in the chair across from her.

    ¡°... You¡¯re quiet.¡± She comments, taking a swig from the bottle and wiping her lip.

    ¡°I was just checking on you before bed. Is everything¡­ going okay?¡±

    ¡°What do you think?¡± She scowls, taking another drink.

    This¡­ isn¡¯t the ¡°adorably clingy and needy¡± drunk Mia that Tiff talked about, for sure. She usually sits down for a drink in the evening, but not like this.

    ¡°Do you want to talk, then?¡±

    ¡°What will talking accomplish?¡± She sighs to herself, staring down at the bottle in her hand.

    ¡°It might help you work through some of this anger-¡±

    ¡°Anger?¡± She cuts me off with a scowl. ¡°My anger doesn¡¯t need to be worked through. It is wholly and entirely justified to feel anger in the face of this situation.¡±

    ¡°Who or what is your anger directed at, then? This wasn¡¯t the fault of anyone in Haven.¡± I don¡¯t think she¡¯d be angry at Tiff over this, but in her current state, I can¡¯t be sure.

    ¡°EVERYTHING!¡± The Chief yells, rising to her feet as she glares down at me with righteous indignation. ¡°This entire situation. Children. Dead children. In hell. Sent to hell by the Gods that promised us all salvation and everlasting happiness in Their own personal realms! What good are Their words if they cannot protect the most vulnerable? What good are Their words if they knowingly condemn the innocent to this fate?!¡±

    She stops herself, laughing pitifully. She¡¯s been stressing every use of They and Them as she speaks of the Gods, maintaining a level of callous respect bordering on mockery as she speaks of them. ¡°But what good are They down here. They either can¡¯t reach us, or They just don¡¯t care. My anger and contempt for Them is only the tip of the spear of my anger. They may have sent children here, They may not have, as far as I know, Their involvement ends the minute we wake up here. What happened to Jorm, it¡­ it wasn¡¯t the Gods that tormented him so.¡± Her lips twist into a snarl, each word bitter on her lips; ¡°It was people. Other people. Humans, committing savagery towards their own kind.¡±

    She stares at the fireplace, her temper boiling beneath her skin as she takes a few deep breaths, clutching the bottle in her hand so tight I fear it might break. Before I can speak, she turns to look at me with inquisitive eyes as she speaks with a cold detachment. ¡°What would you do, if you got your hands on those people?¡±

    ¡°... Find some way to punish them for what they did?¡±

    ¡°Some way?¡± She blinks. ¡°I have a method in mind. Chaining them up by their limbs to the trees. Attracting some bonehounds, watching them do the dirty work. If they so wantonly commit atrocities against their fellow man, then they must accept that the same atrocities may be dealt unto them.¡± She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. ¡°Not that Rann would ever let me hunt for them.¡±

    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be the best use of your time, Chief-¡±

    ¡°Then what WOULD BE?¡± She raises her voice in anger, but her inner pain leaks through in her shaky tone. ¡°What can I do to stop this from happening again?! Round up and hang every murderer in the Abyss? Set up a permanent camp near Deadman¡¯s to rescue every child that wakes up there? Neither will fix the problem that children should never end up trapped down here in the first place! We can¡¯t rescue everyone. We can¡¯t hang everyone. No matter how hard I try, someone will always slip through the cracks. Not as long as children keep turning up here, and as long as we¡¯re all STUCK down here!¡±

    I just sat quietly for a while and let her rant to get it out of her. She¡¯s been holding this in for a while, as her long list of grievances goes back much further than what happened with Jorm. She is, unfortunately, the type to hold these things in rather than confide in others, so they just keep piling up and up until the dam bursts and it all comes flooding out at once. Jorm. The actions of the Bone Breakers. Ingrid flaunting the rules of Haven. That thing in the Ghostwood. Our first meeting with Arza. The bloodbeast hunt. The carrion hawk. It¡¯s better to let it out than hold it in forever, but as her ranting gets more disjointed and her anger isn¡¯t letting up¡­ I should change the topic, but she isn¡¯t exactly letting me get a word in.

    But she stops dead in her tracks when I get up and pull her into a much-needed hug.

    ¡°W-what¡¯re you¡­ I wasn¡¯t¡­ finished¡­¡± She protests, but the tears have already started flowing.

    The two of us just held each other close for a while as she sobbed into my shoulder. All the pain, the frustration, the anger and the sorrow that she was carrying was let out, until she¡¯d cried all she needed to, and we just hugged for a while longer. Though she has no shortage of personal contact, living around someone like Tiff, she rarely seeks it out herself. I may have initiated the hug, but she held onto me for as long as she needed.

    The only words exchanged afterwards was a quiet bidding of goodnight, before the two of us went our separate ways to bed. I laid in bed for a while, listening to the soft crackles of the fading fire as I drifted off, with one only one thought on my mind.

    We can¡¯t let this happen again. To anyone.

    For Jorm¡¯s sake.

    And for Mia¡¯s.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine

    There hasn¡¯t been much to comment on the past couple of weeks.

    Though everyone is doing their best to keep moving forward, the mood around town has been very low, understandably.

    The people of Haven are no strangers to death, but something they had prided themselves on is that no child under their care had ever passed prematurely. Some had died in their early adulthood, yes, but no child had died.

    Until Jorm.

    The Chief had been keeping on top of everything with a stiff upper lip. It was times like these people needed certainty and assuredness, something the Chief was more than capable of delivering. Keeping people busy kept their minds off things.

    Tiff was¡­ in a different state. She spent a few days inside her house, but after she came out she was back to her old self. As best as she could be. Smiling, laughing, looking after the children, lightly teasing the Chief, her usual mannerisms, just¡­ her laughter has a hollow ring to it. Her lips smile, but her eyes betray her pain.

    It hurts to see, but there¡¯s not much anyone can do about it. When Tiffany gets upset, she can¡¯t just cry it out and bury herself in work like the Chief can.

    She just needs time.

    Time is something we¡¯ve had no shortage of, thankfully. It¡¯ll be another week until the next group of children from the Wolf Pups arrive, as word was sent back via a couple Wolf Pups about what happened to the rescued children and how the Pups were settling in. They were settling in quite well. Kado and Anna were¡­

    Anna¡¯s okay, for now. One day she¡¯ll realise what really happened to Jorm, but that day isn¡¯t today. Kado is¡­ he also needs time. Something we have plenty of.

    Frankly, too much time. The Chief has turned into such a workaholic, that there hasn¡¯t been much left for me to do in my nominal capacity as her assistant. She made the suggestion to work on my flight practice with all my free time. It¡¯s a long way up out of the Abyss, after all.

    Which is why I¡¯m currently hovering¡­ eh, it¡¯s better if I don¡¯t try and guess how high up I am, but high enough to overlook a good portion of the village, keeping my altitude and position steady with every mighty flap of my wings.

    Jorm¡¯s passing has been hard on everyone. The kids especially. We¡¯ve had colds and fevers before, but with the medical knowledge and tools we have, no one has died from such a disease. Sometimes people get infected wounds or other minor ailments, but Haven, and seemingly the Abyss at large, is surprisingly lacking in endemic diseases. The population down here is pretty dispersed, but this place isn¡¯t that much unlike a very red swamp, and swamps are usually full of diseases and bugs and disease-carrying bugs. Perhaps the only silver lining of this place is that it¡¯s relatively free of such things. I doubt the God of War sees death by mosquitos or the flu to be an honourable one.

    Though, while it lacks the diseases and bugs of a swamp, it certainly has the heavy, stale air of one. I¡¯d gotten as used to it as I could, until I started flying every day and discovered that, just below the blackened clouds that hang just under a hundred metres above the ground, the air clears out and is almost like breathing¡­ normal air again.

    It¡¯s somewhat relaxing, smelling the cleaner air and just hovering above Haven. In another life, this place would barely even qualify as a village, but down here¡­ it¡¯s the only sliver of civilisation I¡¯ve seen so far. Excluding the portions of whatever summer palace Arza summoned down to the Wolf Pups¡¯ home to make herself more comfortable. Her existence alone is a source of hope for us, and for the Chief especially. Proof there¡¯s people out there, beyond the confines of the Abyss. Proof there¡¯s civilisation. All we had before was books, stories, and the tools around us. Though a few of the people who came down here to found Haven got stuck down here, they¡¯ve long since passed on. Arza is likely the first person to come from outside the Abyss in over a hundred years.

    She isn¡¯t our way out, though.

    I am.

    As soon as I feel ready enough to fly six hundred metres up and out of here, to see what lies above.

    But I¡¯m not quite there yet, even though I get closer every day. What¡¯s also important is that the kids need something to do. Something to keep them occupied when they¡¯re not in school or helping around town. Something that keeps the kids busy, and helps me get flight practice in. I got the kids together one afternoon, and we came up with just the thing.

    I¡¯m playing hide-and-seek, you see, with the provision that I¡¯m always the seeker.

    Because I¡¯ve gotten pretty good at flying. And it brings a whole new dimension to the game when the seeker has a birds-eye view of everywhere someone might try and hide in. I¡¯ve already found a few of them, gathered outside the tavern as is the rules when you¡¯re found, so it¡¯s just a few of the Haven kids left, along with the Wolf Pups.

    And I spy, with my little eye¡­ a trio not very good at hiding.

    Well, to give Adri, Mei, and Irie credit, their hiding spot would be pretty good if I couldn¡¯t see straight over the fence they¡¯re hiding behind, around the back of the armoury.

    You know what to do, wings.

    With a dramatic flourish they¡¯ve grown a little too fond of, my wings thrust me forwards through the air, as I soar across the village nearer and nearer to the cliffs that shield Haven from the wider Abyss until I¡¯m right above the three kids, twirling in the air, and dropping down towards the earth like a missile with my wings close by my side, spreading out to their full length just before I hit the ground, and with one last flap announcing my presence that nearly bowls Adri over from the rush of wind, I land right behind the three of them.

    ¡°Found you~¡± I grin.

    Adri¡¯s clutching the fence to stop himself from tumbling face-first into the mud. Mei clutches her chest as she tries to catch her breath, but Irie is more amazed than anything else.

    ¡°Marina!! You found us! Where did you even come from?!¡± She bounces excitedly, running up and hugging me, my wings wrapping themselves around her in a fluffy embrace.

    ¡°Th-the sky, but¡­ I was watching¡­!¡± Mei pants, her eyes darting around the sky to try and figure out where exactly I came from.

    ¡°You weren¡¯t watching the right part of the sky, Mei! She was right on top of us!¡± Adri retorts, standing back up properly again.

    ¡°How high up were you, Marina?¡± Irie asks with curious eyes.

    ¡°Not high enough to have my head in the clouds, but¡­ pretty high up, yeah. High enough I had to squint to see you hiding between these two.¡± I ruffle her hair and smile.

    ¡°Can you reach the clouds, yet? What do they smell like?¡± Adri asks, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°... Why would you ask what they smell like?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t look like they smell that good. Like most other things down here.¡± He shrugs, looking up at the blackened clouds looming overhead that permanently blanket most of the Abyss.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve stuck my head in the clouds a couple times. They don¡¯t smell too great.¡± They smell somewhere between woodsmoke and sulphur, but only subtly. Thankfully.

    ¡°Do you think you really could fly out of the Abyss, one day?¡± Emi questions, giving me a concerned look.

    ¡°There¡¯s only one way to find out. I¡¯ll just keep practising until I¡¯m ready.¡± I smile to reassure her.

    ¡°Do you think there¡¯s flowers up there that are all different colours? All the ones down here are red¡­¡± Irie ponders. There are a few flowering plants down here, yes, but they all flower in red. All of them. Even the plants brought down here and planted in the farm plot grow red flowers.

    ¡°There¡¯s a book on flowers in the library, Irie, though it¡¯s¡­ more of an encyclopaedia for adults than a kid¡¯s book.¡±

    ¡°That book has a lot of big words that Chief Lichtrufer says I¡¯m too young to understand¡­¡± Irie looks down, pouting.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Irie. When I fly all the way up and out of the Abyss, I¡¯ll bring you back the first non-red flowers I see.¡± I ruffle her hair again to cheer her up, making her giggle.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you still have other kids to find, Marina?¡± Adri interjects, frowning. ¡°Weren¡¯t we playing hide and seek?¡±

    ¡°Well you¡¯re the last of the Haven kids I¡¯ve found, so all that¡¯s left are¡­ the Wolf Pups.¡± Who are damned good at hiding. They¡¯re almost always the last I find, if I find them at all. They¡¯re on a four-game winning streak, and I¡¯ll be twice-damned if I let them win a fifth.

    Irie steps forward, gesturing me to lean down to her, which I do so.

    ¡°They like to hide in trees!¡± Irie whispers in my ear.

    ¡°The¡­ by the Crystalfall?¡± I blink. Irie nods.

    ¡°Hmmm. I think I know just where to look¡­¡±

    Off we go, wings.

    Irie giggles to herself as I take off into the air, soaring above the roofs along the Crystal Road and beelining for the trees that line the bend in the road down to the Crystalfall. The bloodseed fruit trees. The trees themselves look like oak trees with thick, straight trunks, but the fruits that grow on them are indistinguishable from pomegranates. A fitting fruit for hell, truly.

    And looking up at the branches, standing at the base of one, hiding up there would be a good hiding place, invisible from above and below.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re up there, Wolf Pups.¡± I call, but I¡¯m not expecting a reply. After all¡­ ¡°Don¡¯t make me come up there. You know I can!¡±

    Silence.

    Oh well. Off we go again, wings- blegh?!

    The minute I take off from the ground, a bloodfruit comes soaring out from the tree branches, hitting me square in my face and sending me tumbling back to the ground as my wings flap wildly in a helpless attempt to right our balance, only to fail, and land square on my arse in the mud as I¡¯m struck with sudden deja vu.

    ¡°I got her!! Go!!!¡± A voice calls, and as I¡¯m trying to wipe the bloodseed juice from my eyes, four Wolf Pups including Rabbit slide down the trunk, and scatter in all directions.

    ¡°Hey!! No one said anything about throwing fruit at people!¡± Gods, this juice is so sticky¡­ the little bastards waited until I¡¯d taken off so my wings couldn¡¯t just swat the fruit away! When did they figure out how to take advantage of me like that?!

    By the time I can see clearly again and am back on my feet, the Wolf Pups are long gone. The only person around me is a slightly bemused Chief, with Tiff standing beside her. I haven¡¯t seen her much, or even spoken with her since that day with Jorm.

    ¡°I see flight practice is coming along well.¡± The Chief comments, as Tiff giggles to herself.

    ¡°How the hell did they figure out that my wings can¡¯t block projectiles when I¡¯m taking off to fly¡­¡±

    ¡°The Wolf Pups are crafty, aren¡¯t they~?¡± Tiff grins teasingly. ¡°Though, I do remember Vann telling them a story about when he was training you not long after you came to Haven¡­¡±

    ¡°And they put two and two together. I see.¡± I¡¯ll get back at Vann somehow for this. ¡°That¡¯s five games in a row now they¡¯ve won! I can¡¯t let them win a sixth time!¡±

    ¡°Surely there are more efficient methods of flight practice that don¡¯t involve you getting pelted with bloodseed fruit, Marina¡­¡± The Chief questions, crossing her arms.

    ¡°There are, but¡­ playing hide and seek with the kids gives them something to do when they don¡¯t have school. Besides, flying up and down town over and over has helped my endurance a lot. I need to be able to stay in the air for as long as possible if I¡¯m going to fly out of here.¡±

    ¡°I suppose so.¡± The Chief nods. ¡°At least you aren¡¯t landing on people¡¯s roofs anymore. I got more than a few complaints about people hearing footsteps above them when they were on the top floor of their residences¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve gotten strong enough that I don¡¯t need to land on someone¡¯s roof to catch my breath anymore.¡± I say proudly, puffing out my chest.

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re strong enough to fly six hundred tals straight up?¡± The Chief probes me. ¡°Have you managed to go through the clouds yet?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve stuck my head in the clouds, as for how thick they are¡­ I don¡¯t know. I was thinking it¡¯s better if I just try to go the full distance the first try, rather than going up bit by bit.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± She ponders, as the three of us stare up at the dark clouds overhead. They clear occasionally, giving us a glimpse of the sky above, but we never get a proper glimpse of the cliffs themselves. It¡¯s like the clouds are stuck to them.

    I¡¯m a lot more confident and comfortable with flying, and I feel like my wings and I have gotten on the same wavelength¡­ most of the time. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll ever learn to stop touching things they shouldn¡¯t.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Was there anything else you needed, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Oh, we were just doing the rounds and happened to see you get whacked right in the face with a bloodseed fruit, and thought we¡¯d check up on you.¡± Tiff grins, picking out a seed from my hair. ¡°Oh, should I go and tell the kids they¡¯ve won another round after you declared defeat just a moment ago~?¡±

    ¡°... If it spares me the humiliation, yes.¡±

    Tiff giggles, practically skipping back up the road to go tell the children gathered outside the tavern of their victory. Once she¡¯s gone around the corner, it gives me the opportunity to ask the Chief candidly.

    ¡°How has Tiff been?¡±

    ¡°Pretending that everything¡¯s okay.¡± The Chief answers bluntly. ¡°She knows I see through it, but that hasn¡¯t stopped her.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ sometimes if you fake something for long enough, it stops being fake.¡±

    The Chief gives me a sideways look. ¡°Is that a Sovranan saying? That makes no sense. She¡¯s still just pretending that she¡¯s okay, just so the children don¡¯t worry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more that¡­ if you keep pretending to be something, sometimes you can forget that you were just pretending in the first place. Like when an actor on stage gets really into their character.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I was never allowed to see any theatre productions. The closest was the occasional serious opera. Otherwise it was always orchestral arrangements¡­ no, if it wasn¡¯t composed by a genius musician and shown in the Drachenkoenig Royal Opera House, it wasn¡¯t high class enough for the Lichtrufer family.¡± She tsks.

    ¡°Well, then you had the luxury of hearing some of the finest musicians in the land playing Retali instruments no doubt. We sold our masterworks from the eastern shoreline of the Song Empire, to the furthest northern reaches of Drachenkoenig~¡± I preen, taking some pride in my family¡¯s work. We really did sell and ship instruments all over the world.

    ¡°I heard the name once or twice. I never thought I¡¯d have the honour of meeting a member of such an esteemed family in a place like this.¡± The Chief smirks.

    ¡°Oh, we weren¡¯t that¡­ er¡­¡± Hang on. ¡°Are you trying to tease me?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps.¡± She shrugs lightly, walking past me as she heads back up the road. ¡°Who can say?¡±

    ¡­ What?

    ¡°Chief??¡± I yell, to no reply.

    Okay then. Guess I¡¯ll keep up with flight practice.

    ¡­

    A couple days have passed.

    The Wolf Pups are up to a seven-game hide-and-seek winning streak.

    Hiding indoors is against the rules, a rule they haven¡¯t broken, but have certainly bent by hiding under the awnings of the tavern or around behind Ingrid¡¯s blacksmith right up against the smaller cliffs that cradle Haven, where it¡¯s very difficult to spot them from the air. Just when I think I¡¯ve found their ultimate hiding place, they¡¯ve got another hiding place up their sleeves that takes me ages to find. Worse still, the Haven kids are picking up on their tactics and getting better and better with every round we play. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to win on my own, at this rate.

    Our daily hide-and-seek matches have become something of a spectacle in town, too. While by now people have gotten used to seeing or hearing me flying about, my increasing frustration at how damn good these kids are at hiding is a welcome source of amusement for some of them. Of course, not one of them even gives a hint where the kids are hiding, no. I¡¯m the sole seeker, and it¡¯s my job to find them. Gods.

    That said, the Wolf Pups can¡¯t all hide in one place like they used to. I¡¯m too quick and perceptive for them to get away with that now. Every day, I grow more agile and confident in the air. I¡¯m far from anywhere near mastering the art of flying, but I¡¯m confident enough to say I¡¯ve gotten pretty good at it. I¡¯ve only crash-landed once since I started playing hide-and-seek with the kids!

    Though, while I no longer feel like I¡¯m going to collapse into the mud like a limp rag after a bit of flying, it still works up a hell of an appetite. Fortunately, it¡¯s dinner time, and Anton has begrudgingly agreed to serve me larger portions to make up for all the energy I¡¯m spending flying around town. Flying¡¯s hungry work.

    ¡°Here, Marina.¡± One of the barmaids pulls me from my thoughts as an extra-large serving of bloodbeast stew is set down before me, tickling my nose with tomatoes, root vegetables, and spices. The kitchen has certainly made the bloodbeast meat last. In fact, they¡¯ve made me grow quite fond of it.

    ¡°I truly do not know how you can stomach so much at once¡­¡± The Chief, seated across from me, raises an eye at the size of my portion as she digs in. Whatever she¡¯s thinking can wait. I¡¯m hungry.

    Where was I¡­? Oh, right. Dinner in the tavern. Dinner with the Council, who are eager to hear about my flight progress. Tiff, Rann, Vann, and the Chief are all seated around me, and the tavern is bustling with conversation and laughter as the kids brag about beating me at hide-and-seek again. Right. This stew is good¡­

    I think I heard the Chief audibly sigh, but Rann chuckles beside me and seems to brush her off. ¡°Let the girl eat, Mia. She¡¯s been flying up and down town for weeks now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of that, Rann. I¡¯m the one who tasked her with flight practice. This is only her twentieth day of such practice. I¡¯m aware that she¡¯s hungry, just as I¡¯m sure she¡¯s aware she doesn¡¯t have to eat her dinner like a pig at a trough.¡± The Chief side-eyes me as I¡¯m busy shovelling food into my mouth.

    I swallow what¡¯s in my mouth before speaking, ¡°But I thought you wanted to talk¡­?¡±

    ¡°Just eat, Marina.¡± She sighs, shrugging me off with a half-hearted glare.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind her, Marina. She gets impatient when she¡¯s excited~¡± Tiff grins teasingly at the Chief beside her.

    ¡°I am neither of those things, Tiffany. I simply wish to know how Marina feels her practice has been going sooner rather than later.¡± The Chief shoots back.

    ¡°... Sure sounds like impatience, Chief.¡± Vann adds with a shrug.

    ¡°It¡¯s exercising prudence, not being impatient!¡± She retorts, starting a back-and-forth argument that only the Chief doesn¡¯t recognise is in gest.

    Still, it gives me enough time to eat enough of this stew that I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m going to start gnawing on the table out of insatiable hunger. Bloodbeast stew certainly fills you up.

    ¡°Well, about my flight practice¡­¡± I speak up, wiping my chin with a cloth napkin. ¡°I¡¯ve come a long way in terms of endurance and control. With every extra day of practice, that 600-tal-high cliff seems a little less insurmountable.¡±

    ¡°... So how insurmountable does it seem right now, Marina?¡± The Chief asks, her attention piqued.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± I ponder, gazing upwards thoughtfully and pretending not to notice the Chief eagerly lean forward in her chair.

    Six hundred tals straight up. Or metres. Same thing. With how much flying I¡¯ve been doing, it doesn¡¯t seem so impossible now. I¡¯ve purposely avoided trying to see how far up I can go, because I feel it¡¯d be better if I did it on the first attempt. I¡¯ve certainly gotten stronger and more confident. I think, with maybe a day or two more of practice¡­ maybe not even that.

    ¡°I could try as soon as tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re confident in that?¡± The Chief presses.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you see that, Chief?¡±

    ¡°Regardless of the fact that I can see it, I¡¯d prefer it if you say it.¡± She frowns at me.

    ¡°I¡¯m confident I can do it. If I can¡¯t, then I¡¯ll just have to trust that someone will catch me if I don¡¯t quite make it up there.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll think of something if it comes to that. So, to go over the plan again. You fly up to the top of the cliffs. You assess the situation, see what state the crane is in and if there¡¯s anything else of use up there, and then you come straight back down, understand?¡± She continues, not actually stating what she¡¯d do if I fell, but¡­ I trust her to have something in mind.

    ¡°I know. We¡¯ve gone over it almost every day, Chief. I know what to do.¡±

    ¡°... You¡¯ve spoken about the plan almost every day?¡± Tiff blinks, looking across at the Chief.

    ¡°It¡¯s an important step of getting us out of here, Tiff. It has to be perfect.¡± The Chief explains.

    ¡°So.¡± Rann speaks up. ¡°Marina flies up there. She sees what¡¯s up there. She flies back down. Then what?¡±

    ¡°We assess the state of the crane, and see if it can be fixed. If Marina can fly up there and back down safely, she should be able to take some basic tools and equipment up with her. We have blueprints of the crane in the library; we know how it was built, we¡¯ll know how to fix it.¡± The Chief explains, before taking a long sip from her wooden mug.

    ¡°Mmhm. And what if there¡¯s nothing up there to be fixed?¡± Rann asks.

    The room falls silent as the Chief slowly puts her mug down on the table. Everyone had been listening in on our conversation, since it was about getting everyone out of the Abyss. Everyone heard Rann question the Chief¡¯s plan, and no-one had ever publicly dared to question the Chief¡¯s plan. Her plans had always worked. Why wouldn¡¯t this one? She always sounded certain the crane was still up there.

    But, if there was anyone in the position to question the Chief¡¯s plan¡­ it would be the oldest person on the council. The one who helped raise the Chief.

    ¡°... Rann.¡± She speaks, her voice calm and steady, though her anger is showing through her twitching eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a hundred years, Chief. No one¡¯s come down since the crane stopped. You¡¯ve always acted like it¡¯s still up there, so what¡¯s the plan if Marina flies up there only to find nothing left of it?¡± He pushes. His questions are perfectly reasonable. They¡¯re questions that need to be asked. Which is perhaps why they¡¯ve gotten under the Chief¡¯s skin so quickly.

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it be there, Rann? You¡¯ve seen the blueprints. It¡¯s not a simple construction crane, it¡¯s an industrial lift made to descend hundreds of tals into the earth. It¡¯s big. It¡¯s durable. There are no notions or signs of conflict in the documents from the day the crane stopped coming down, it just stopped one day. It can¡¯t have been destroyed. Why would it be destroyed?¡± The Chief responds with her own series of questions. She¡¯s no doubt grappled with these questions before on her own, so she has answers ready for them.

    ¡°People don¡¯t need a reason to destroy something, Chief. They just do. I¡¯ve also read the books saying the area around the Abyss is a lawless wasteland filled with roving bandits and marauding hordes. Do you really think an unattended structure would survive in that kind of place for a hundred years?¡± Rann isn¡¯t letting this go, and has his own sources to back his points up.

    ¡°We would have known if it was destroyed, Rann. As I already said, it was a large structure. If marauding fools came along and smashed it, surely parts of it would have fallen into the Abyss and likely landed within Haven itself. It¡¯s straight up above us. It came down right near the Crystalfall. We would know if it was destroyed!¡± The Chief¡¯s grip over her own anger is starting to slip as she raises her voice.

    ¡°They could have burned it. They could have salvaged it for parts. It was made of wood, and wood burns. There¡¯s plenty of ways to destroy it without anything falling down here.¡± Rann isn¡¯t convinced, and with the murmurs in the crowd, others aren¡¯t quite convinced either.

    ¡°Rann¡­¡± The Chief sighs through gritted teeth, holding her head in her hands.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying this to poke holes in your plan, Chief. You do your best to plan for every possibility. What¡¯s your plan if there¡¯s no crane at all?¡± He continues, trying to reassure the Chief, but she¡¯s gone over the edge by this point.

    ¡°RANN!!¡± She yells, standing up and slamming her first on the table like the boom of thunder, stunning the room into silence once more.

    ¡°Mia¡­¡± Tiff goes to hold the Chief¡¯s hand to comfort her, but the Chief swats it away in anger.

    ¡°It¡¯s an honest question, Chief.¡± Vann speaks up in Rann¡¯s place, who has gone silent, having crossed his arms and closed his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s all good to send Marina up there to see what the situation is. What will we do if there is nothing left up there?¡±

    ¡°It has to be up there.¡± The Chief growls, but her voice wavers. ¡°If it isn¡¯t¡­ then¡­ then we¡¯ll just have to find something else!¡±

    I¡¯ve never heard the Chief sound so uncertain over anything, let alone herself. She¡¯s hitched her hopes onto the existence of this crane, and¡­

    I¡¯ll be the one that¡¯ll be delivering the news to her; good, or bad, there¡¯s only one way to find out.

    ¡°Well.¡± Rann stands, stepping out from behind the table and heading for the tavern¡¯s front doors. ¡°Then I best prepare for the worst-case scenario.¡± He doesn¡¯t slam the door behind him, but the room¡¯s so quiet it echoes off the walls.

    Conversation in the room slowly starts back up as people turn around and pretend they didn¡¯t see what just went down. The Chief stays standing by the table for a long moment, clenching her fists, before grunting and leaving to head up the stairs to the offices above the tavern, leaving Vann, Tiff and I alone at the table.

    ¡°... Should we¡­ go check on either of them¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s best we leave the both of them on their own for a while. This happens every now and then.¡± Vann shrugs, leaning over the table.

    ¡°Hahh¡­¡± Tiff sighs wistfully, letting her head slump. ¡°I knew this would happen, I just wish it didn¡¯t happen in the middle of dinner¡­ she didn¡¯t even finish hers.¡±

    ¡°You knew they¡¯d fight like this?¡±

    ¡°Mia¡­ gets¡­ well, you know her. She can really hone in on these things and lose sight of everything else around her. She¡¯s smart, and capable, but she can never meet her own standards of perfection. Rann is the only person who can bring these sorts of things up with her. She respects him greatly, and she values his input and support on everything. So when Rann questions her ideas, it hits her hard, but as I said¡­ he¡¯s the only one who can talk about this with her. You know how hard it can be to get her to reconsider things.¡± Tiff explains.

    ¡°Even you can¡¯t convince her on things like this, Tiff?¡±

    ¡°With something like this¡­? No. That¡¯s not the role I play in her life.¡± She smiles, shaking her head. ¡°She¡¯ll probably come grumbling to me later on and rest her head on my shoulder and I¡¯ll reassure her that everything will be okay.¡±

    ¡°Will everything be okay though, Miss Valm? Can you say that with certainty?¡± A cynical voice comes from behind Tiff¡ªAnton¡¯s voice, coming around to collect our empty bowls. A job he doesn¡¯t usually do.

    ¡°A-Anton! I wasn¡¯t even talking about you, so why¡¯d you have to sneak up on me?!¡± Tiff retorts, nearly jumping out of her seat as Anton appears behind her.

    ¡°I overheard the argument. Rann is right to question the Chief¡¯s plan¡­ if you can call it that. Hinging it all on whether or not this crane is still intact, let alone there at all, is a gamble that the Chief usually wouldn¡¯t allow in her plans.¡± Anton rolls his shoulders back in a half-shrug.

    ¡°If you have something better, we¡¯re all ears, Anton.¡± Vann prods.

    ¡°Getting us out of here isn¡¯t my job. Ensuring everyone gets three hot meals every day is. I¡¯m content to leave her to her duties as Chief and not question her motives, but I fear her obsession over this is only setting her up for failure.¡± Anton explains succinctly.

    ¡°She just wants a better life for all of us, Anton. Is it wrong for her to want that?¡± Tiff says, crossing her arms and glaring at Anton.

    ¡°I never said it was wrong. Only that her current path will end in failure.¡± Anton turns back towards the kitchen without another word.

    ¡°... He does know this entire plan hinges on me, right? No matter what¡¯s up there, I¡¯ll be the one to find it, and the one to tell the Chief about what I do or don¡¯t find.¡±

    What do you think, Marina? Do you think there¡¯ll be something left up there?¡± Vann asks.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t thought about what¡¯s up there. My job is getting up there. And getting back down in one piece.¡±

    ¡°But do you think there¡¯ll be something left up there?¡± Vann repeats, pushing in the same way Rann did earlier.

    ¡°Well¡­ there¡¯s only one way to find out for certain.¡± I look up in the direction of the cliffs. I can¡¯t see them, but that¡¯s not the point.

    ¡°Are you going to try to fly out of the Abyss tomorrow, Marina?¡± Tiff asks.

    ¡°May as well. Just¡­ work something out to catch me if I don¡¯t make it all the way up, okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go tell the Chief that. She¡¯ll be happy to hear it.¡± Tiff smiles, standing and heading for the stairs.

    Now it¡¯s just Vann and I.

    ¡°... Are you confident you can fly out of here and come back, Marina?¡± Vann asks, raising an eyebrow in concern.

    ¡°Look, either I do or I don¡¯t. I try not to think about what happens if I don¡¯t make it. It¡¯s a long way down and the less I think about that, the better.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Vann chuckles, standing and heading to leave. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll be sure to catch you if you fall.¡±

    Well.

    I¡¯m flying out of the Abyss tomorrow.

    I wonder if I could get another serving of stew tonight¡­ I¡¯m going to need the energy tomorrow.

 Chapter Forty

    The big day.

    The day I promised would come.

    The day I fly up and out of the Abyss, assess the situation up there, and come back down.

    And gods I¡¯m so fucking nervous.

    Visibly nervous, apparently, as one of the barmaids asked if I needed a drink with my breakfast to help calm me down. I told her no, thank you, and that I probably shouldn¡¯t drink and fly.

    As I stand below the cliffs before the Crystalfall, I¡¯m reconsidering that offer. Six hundred metres is a long way up.

    It¡¯s a long way down, too.

    The excited hustle and bustle of the tavern¡¯s breakfast rush was doing little to soothe my nerves, so I had the bright idea of coming here, since the only source of clean, clear water in all of the Abyss normally does wonders to help me ground myself in times of stress.

    But now, looking up at it, as its crystal clear waters come crashing down from unknown heights¡­

    There¡¯s really no getting away from my nerves. Even my wings have been restless since I woke up. It¡¯s not the fear of flying, per say, it¡¯s the fear of falling. Especially given¡­ I¡¯ve received no clear answer on what¡¯ll happen to me if I do fall. Which, again. Six hundred metres. It¡¯s difficult to even fathom that height.

    Let¡¯s say I can fly up two metres with every flap of my wings. That¡¯s still 300 flaps. If I can fly 3 metres up with every wing flap, that¡¯s still 200 flaps. It¡¯s a lot of flapping, which is a lot of work for my wings. My job is making sure we stay upright, and go up in a straight line. Do I measure each wing flap, or just focus entirely on going up and up and up until I¡¯m out?

    ¡­ What¡¯s really waiting for me when I get out?

    Will the crane be there? Will people be there? Will anything be there? We know there¡¯s a whole world up there, but¡­ it¡¯s been a hundred years, and no one¡¯s thought to check on us since. Was the plan to get people out of the Abyss just abandoned whenever what happened to the crane to make it stop coming down happened?

    So many questions. Every possible answer just leads to more questions, with no end in sight. The only way to know anything for certain is to see for myself.

    Which means flying up there. Six hundred metres up there. I¡¯m back on that gods-damned number again, my brain is just going in circles-

    ¡°See, told you lot we¡¯d find Feathers down ¡®ere.¡± Johnny chuckles to himself, slapping me on the shoulder and freaking me the hell out.

    ¡°Gyaahh?!¡± I yelp, having utterly failed to notice that the entire Expedition Team had walked up behind me. My wings even failed to notice the entire Expedition Team had walked up behind me, and noticing things I don¡¯t is half their job. Yes, you heard me wings, stop freaking out and do your job. I get maybe not noticing someone like Einar or Arshiya, but Rann and Rob? They both move like elephants through town!

    ¡°No one said she wouldn¡¯t be here, Johnny. She is taking off in a couple hours.¡± Arshak sighs audibly, as the group fan out around me.

    ¡°Why are all of you here so early, then¡­?¡± I ask, trying to recollect myself.

    ¡°You¡¯re part of Haven¡¯s Expedition Team, Marina.¡± Is Rann¡¯s noncommittal answer.

    ¡°Okay, and¡­?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going off beyond Haven¡¯s walls, one way or another. Normally, we don¡¯t send people off on their own, but in this case we¡¯ve decided to make an exception.¡± Rann explains after being prodded to.

    ¡°Who is ¡°we¡± in this case?¡±

    ¡°All of us.¡± Arshak grins smugly. ¡°Your superiors, rookie.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been on enough expeditions to no longer be called a rookie!¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± Rann shoots me down. ¡°You¡¯ve been on four. Need to do at least five.¡±

    ¡°What?! There¡¯s a number of expeditions I have to do?¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t this be her fifth, though.¡± Rob points out in a way that almost sounded like a question.

    ¡°... Will it?¡±

    Rann just sighs.

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t worry about it, Feathers. Flyin¡¯ outta the Abyss is more than enough to call yourself a veteran of the expeditionary team.¡± Johnny pats me on the shoulder reassuringly rather than slapping me again.

    ¡°... If she makes it.¡± Arshak mutters, before getting prodded by his sister. ¡°Oi! What was that for?!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll make it.¡± Arshiya asserts, pouting.

    ¡°Think anything will come from this, Rann?¡± Einar asks, crossing his arms and staring up at the looming cliffs.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get a few answers. I¡¯m not expecting much more than that.¡± Rann sighs to himself, glancing upwards.

    ¡°Ya know¡­¡± Johnny glances around. It¡¯s just myself and the Expeditionary Team here. ¡°Err, can I be honest, Rann?¡±

    ¡°When are you not honest, Johnny?¡± Rann shrugs, giving him permission.

    ¡°Point taken. Anyway, I¡¯ve been thinkin¡¯ about it, and really¡­ there¡¯s no way in this stinkin, mud-soaked hell that there is anythin¡¯ left up there. Nothin¡¯. Been a hundred years, and nothin¡¯s happened about it. No one¡¯s come down lookin¡¯ for us. That crane or whatever it was ain¡¯t there. We¡¯re all kinda bein¡¯ set up for disappointment. But the Chief promised us, promised us she¡¯d find us a way outta here. So, assumin¡¯ there¡¯s nothing¡¯ up there. What do we do? Send Feathers to get help? How else are we gonna get out?¡± Johnny voices his honest concerns, echoing many of my own worries. Everyone¡¯s eyes turn to Rann, waiting for his answer.

    All he can do is sigh, visibly sinking in resignation.

    ¡°We¡¯ll think of something. Don¡¯t have much of a choice on that.¡± He finally speaks. ¡°The Chief is right, though. We need to find a way out, one way or another.¡±

    A word pops into my head. Something that was mentioned a while ago, but quickly dismissed out of hand. But, if there is nothing waiting for me up there¡­

    ¡°What about the Gauntlet?¡± I speak up.

    ¡°You mean the myth that got the last Chief killed searching for it, girl?¡± Einar scowls across at me.

    ¡°Myth or not, what is it? People had to get out of the Abyss somehow for their names and deeds to be recorded in the books in our own library. Is it a pathway? A path out of the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t exist-¡± Einar starts, but Rann stops him with a hand on his chest.

    ¡°It is a pathway, according to the stories.¡± Rann explains. ¡°But not just a straight walk out. Nothing as easy as that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect anything down here to be easy¡­¡±

    ¡°If you go with the idea that this is the War God¡¯s corpse we¡¯re standing on, the stories about the Gauntlet start to add up. It¡¯s a challenge. A tourney run, a fight, whatever you want to call it. Battling whatever the Abyss throws at you on a long upwards path out of here. But that¡¯s all we know. It¡¯s a fight to get out of here. As for where it is¡­¡± Rann lowers his gaze. ¡°That part, the stories don¡¯t cover.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d have to be somewhere along the cliffs, right? To be a path out of here?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d think that. People have searched every inch of these cliffs, for hundreds of miles of them. They all turned up nothing.¡± Rann shoots my point down.

    ¡°But, it does have to be somewhere, right? How¡­ how else would anyone have gotten out of the Abyss? Did anyone else grow wings like Marina?¡± Arshak ponders out loud.

    ¡°The search for it has taken enough lives.¡± Einar cuts in. ¡°We don¡¯t need to lose any more over it.¡±

    ¡°Alright, We get it Einar, for Falian¡¯s sake... Ya don¡¯t like this Gauntlet idea. You¡¯re always the one who shoots it down when it¡¯s brought up, seriously. Why do ya always get so pissy over it?¡± Johnny sighs annoyedly, trying to get Einar to back off.

    ¡°Because Einar¡¯s the one who told the last Chief about the Gauntlet in the first place.¡± Rann answers.

    For the first time in over a year since I¡¯ve known him, Einar¡¯s scowl drops as his eyes widen, and a look of regret flashes across his face.

    ¡°... You kiddin¡¯ us, Rann?¡± Johnny blinks in disbelief.

    ¡°He isn¡¯t.¡± Einar takes a deep breath, staring up at the Crystalfall. ¡°I was the stupid boy who put that idea in his head. The stupid boy who couldn¡¯t shut up about the Gauntlet.¡±

    ¡°Wait, then¡­ how did you know about it, Einar?¡±

    ¡°Same way every other stupid boy knows about it. I heard the story of it.¡± Einar stares at¡­ or rather, through me.

    Rann pats Einar on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Einar. It¡¯s in the past. He wasn¡¯t the first, nor the last to fall prey to the Abyss.¡±

    Einar just shrugs off Rann¡¯s hand, turning to head plodding back up the path towards Haven, only to stop in his tracks as he, along with the rest of us, see the current Chief and Tiff heading down towards us.

    ¡°I was wondering where all of you had gone¡­ Why are you all here already? It¡¯s not noon yet.¡± The Chief calls, standing with her hands on her hips.

    ¡°Marina¡¯s about to graduate from being the rookie of the Expedition Team. We¡¯re giving her the proper send-off.¡± Rann answers.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for a send-off. She¡¯ll be right up, and right back. Right, Marina?¡± The Chief brushes Rann¡¯s comment off.

    ¡°R-Right, Chief.¡±

    ¡°Are you feeling ready for this, Marina?¡± Tiff asks, a little concerned.

    ¡°... Have you figured out how to catch me if I come falling back down?¡±

    ¡°... Have we?¡± Rann asks with such genuine concern it¡¯s reinvigorated my worries.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, if it comes to that, I¡¯ll catch her. Chains might hurt, but it¡¯ll hurt less than hitting the ground.¡± The Chief sighs, brushing another comment off when she¡¯s not the one who might end up falling 600 metres down.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best not to fall. I¡¯ve got a pretty good track record of not falling, and I don¡¯t intend to break it.¡±

    ¡°Like your track record of losing hide-and-seek to the kids?¡± Arshiya asks in her usual somewhat blunt, innocent manner, but I know she¡¯s trying to tease me.

    ¡°No, that is a record I intend to break. And will. They¡¯ll run out of hiding spots sooner or later.¡±

    ¡°Eh, dunno about that one, Feathers. Still plenty of places they could hide that they haven¡¯t.¡± Johnny comments. I¡¯ll ignore that.

    ¡°Putting all of that aside¡­¡± The Chief looks directly at me, a hint of concern in her eyes. ¡°Are you ready for this, Marina?¡±

    I take a deep breath before giving my honest answer. ¡°As ready as I can be. Honestly, the sooner I get it over with, the better. The only thing that¡¯ll calm my nerves over this is getting it done with.¡±

    ¡°Well then. Come along, we have an early lunch, and afterwards it¡¯ll be time for you to graduate as a proper member of the Expedition Team, Marina.¡± The Chief smiles, turning to head back towards Haven, with the rest of us following.

    ¡­

    I know this is a big deal, but I was kind of hoping that the entire population of Haven wouldn¡¯t be here to watch this. This is not helping my nerves one bit. Even my wings are jittery, but I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s from nerves or excitement. We¡¯ve never flown so far before, so it¡¯s a new experience for them, too.

    Actually, wings. Tap my left shoulder if you¡¯re nervous, and my right shoulder if you¡¯re excited¡ª

    Repeated, almost aggressive but still soft thwaps against my right shoulder gives me an answer. Alright, wings, I get it, you¡¯re excited. Alright. Alright! You can stop now!

    Well, at least one of us is looking forward to this. My wings have the harder job, I suppose, it¡¯s just up to me to keep us balanced and flying in the right direction. We¡¯ll take off, head up, and keep going up and up until we¡¯re¡­ out of here. Hopefully, we won¡¯t get jumped by anything, but I doubt that¡¯ll happen.

    The mood of the crowd is buzzing, but mixed. The children are all excited to hear what¡¯s outside the Abyss, while the adults quietly voice their doubts out of earshot of the Chief. Some are hopeful, others are resigned, but either way, knowing what¡¯s actually up there will, hopefully, help in planning how to get out of here.

    I just worry about disappointing the Chief.

    I think part of her knows there may well be nothing left up there. But, she has the opportunity to put this question to rest, so she¡¯s seized upon it with all she can.

    It¡¯s up to me to bring her those answers, though.

    I take off my cloak, handing it to Tiff and letting my wings stretch out to their full length, drawing a few murmurs of awe from behind me. They do look impressive, resting at their full wingspan, with their black feathers sparkling from the mist kicked up by the Crystalfall.

    ¡°Ready, Marina?¡± The Chief puts her hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. With my wings hiding her face from the crowd, she gives me a slightly concerned look. She knows as well as I do that this is all on me.

    ¡°Ready.¡±

    With a nod, the Chief steps back, going to join the crowd at its head, giving me space to take off.

    This is our moment, wings. I¡¯ll count us down.

    Three¡­

    Two¡­

    One.

    With a flap so mighty it kicks up a cloud of dust at my feet, we rocket up into the air, already a dozen metres off the ground before a second flap takes us even higher, and by the fifth, we¡¯ve pierced into the clouds above.

    I stop counting past the fifth. I trust my wings to get us up out of here, they trust me to keep us stable. Counting doesn¡¯t keep us stable. Keeping my eyes up and my core steady does. The Crystalfall is my only reference for how far up we are, as the sound of its water crashing into the ground below gets further and further away. Even amidst the black smoky clouds above, the water is still crystal clear.

    Still going up. It¡¯s been a couple minutes I think, and I¡¯m still keeping the Crystalfall in sight, but every time I glance to the sides, it¡¯s as if¡­

    It¡¯s as if the cliffs are getting further away, even though we¡¯re the same distance from the Crystalfall.

    Hang on. Let¡¯s stop here for a moment, wings.

    They oblige, keeping me more or less hovering in place in front of the Crystalfall. There¡¯s no point looking behind me; I can barely see a few metres through the black clouds that seem to have grown thicker. It¡¯s a miracle we get any sunlight at all down here. We are almost exactly the same distance from it as when we started, but¡­

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    ¡°But I can barely see the cliffs now¡­¡±

    Are they¡­

    Let¡¯s keep going, wings.

    After another few minutes of flight, I¡¯m convinced now.

    At least at the Crystalfall, the cliffs surrounding the Abyss are concave.

    That¡­ makes climbing out of here far harder than if the cliffs were straight, but no. They¡¯re concave. Another means of trapping us down here.

    But concave cliffs are nothing when you have wings. Onwards and upwards we go.

    Another couple minutes. Keeping my breathing steady, my body stable, my wings flapping¡­ I¡¯ve been trying not to think about it, but this is thankfully easier than I expected it to be. Training paid off, as did not trying to attempt to fly up this high until the big day. Past a certain point, the cliff face has started drawing closer again, so I must be nearing the top. Just keep the Crystalfall in sight, all the way to the top-

    ¡­ Unless, of course, it doesn¡¯t go all the way to the top.

    I nearly lose my balance as the Crystalfall abruptly stops, vanishing into the thick clouds below me. I have to squint to realise that, against the black cliff face, there¡¯s a tall, narrow cave opening, from which the clear blue waters of the Crystalfall flow, and Arezza¡¯s words come to mind.

    The Crystalfall is most likely where the waters of the river known as Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow, a river sacred to the Azorii, ends up. It starts far in the west, running to the east down to a stream, then a creek, and then¡­ as far as Arezza knew, it disappeared.

    No wonder no one seemed to know where it ended up. The waters vanish underground, and burst out the cliff wall here to provide Haven below with water. Which just makes me wonder¡­ someone who founded Haven from above must have known there was clean water here, right? They must have known that Anisphia¡¯s Sorrow ended up here, and that the water was safe to drink¡­ even if that¡¯s sacrilegious.

    Okay, I need to stop hovering here, hovering is more exhausting than flying up. Let¡¯s keep going wings.

    Keep going.

    Keep¡­ I thought this was near the top, and exhaustion is starting to creep in¡­ I¡¯m getting the weirdest muscle cramps across my chest in muscles I¡¯m really not used to having. The clouds still haven''t let up, and the slight sulfurous stink is starting to get to me. I¡¯m almost out of here, right?

    Right?

    I¡¯m starting to get unsteady. Please. Please almost be¡ªout?!

    The black clouds, and the looming cliff suddenly vanish beneath me. I¡¯m no longer buried in the clouds, they¡¯re hundreds of metres above me, and look more like normal grey rain clouds. We¡¯re out.

    We¡¯re out, but we need to land right now before my wings give out, there¡¯s ground over there, let¡¯s just get¡­ over¡­ there¡­!

    With one last exhausted flap, I flump onto the ground at the top of the cliffs, landing face-first in the grass.

    Grass.

    Green, slightly damp, long, soft grass.

    I¡¯d almost forgotten it. The feel, the smell, the¡­ taste! Pleh! It¡¯s in my mouth!

    I push myself up, spitting out the grass I¡¯d taken a bite out of when I landed, and just sit back and look around.

    Grassy fields. Overcast skies, with the occasional bit of sun shining through, showing the blue sky above. I didn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t think this place even had a blue sky, but there it is. I can take a deep breath, and smell the air, and the grass, and not have to subconsciously filter out everything that stinks down in the Abyss. There¡¯s mountains in the distance, to the north I think, with some¡­ glowing barriers at their base, but besides that there¡¯s just¡­ grass. As far as the eye can see.

    Grass.

    And no crane.

    Right, shit, I¡¯m supposed to be looking for a crane, or anything that¡¯ll help up here, but all there is is just¡­ grass. Mountains in the distance, sure, but otherwise it¡¯s just grass. Grass doesn¡¯t get us out of here. I start pacing around, but there¡¯s nothing. There¡¯s just grass. There has to be something¡ªow! The hells did I just whack my toe¡­ on?

    What did I whack my toe on¡­ there¡¯s something under the grass. A slight rise, near the cliff¡¯s edge, with small white flowers growing around it. It¡¯s¡­ a wooden platform. It¡¯s the crane. The crane!

    Or¡­

    What¡¯s left of it.

    All that¡¯s here is a large wooden platform, almost completely swallowed by the grass. The crane was here. It¡¯s just¡­

    This is all that¡¯s left of it. An empty platform. I saw the blueprints myself, and the crane was huge, with a big wheel and an arm reaching out over the Abyss. This can¡¯t be all that¡¯s left of it, right? There has to be something more around here.

    But no matter how much I search through the thick grass, there¡¯s nothing there. Just the occasional bit of old, knotted fibres almost resembling rope, half-buried in the dirt with grass growing through them. No wooden beams, no nails, nothing. All my searching has given me are grass-stained hands and knees.

    I¡­ forgot that grass can actually stain your clothes.

    I look up at the sky, as a break in the clouds lets the sun shine down on me. It¡¯s warm.

    Not the dry, uncomfortable heat that permeates every part of the Abyss that you can never quite escape from, or the humid red mud that clings to everything and seals in the heat, or the cloying, iron-rich stench in the air. A pleasant day¡¯s warmth, and the smell of a cool summer¡¯s breeze rolling over the hills.

    It reminds me of home.

    But being reminded of home doesn¡¯t help, either. Not when everyone¡¯s still stuck down¡­ there.

    That gaping pit of black and red, gashed across the earth¡¯s surface. An open wound that¡¯s never healed. The Wound in the World, is an epithet in one of the Chief¡¯s many books on the subjects of the Sumps. And I thought the Seeping Wound was a bit too on-the-nose, hah. There¡¯s no other way to describe the Abyss than a wound. The grassy fields just abruptly cease at the cliffs¡¯ edge, giving way to the smoky depths of the Abyss. It¡¯s an unpleasant sight, which might explain why I can¡¯t see even a hint of civilisation anywhere near here.

    But what do I do now? I just¡­ return empty-handed?

    Do I go back with nothing?

    Do I¡­ do I go look for help? I¡¯ve recovered a bit after the flight, and I¡¯ll cover ground faster in the air. There must be someone near here I could ask for help. Do I just¡­

    ¡°... Go?¡± I ask myself. Without realising, I¡¯ve taken several paces away from the Abyss.

    I thought I¡¯d go and ask for help, but¡­ that¡¯s not what I was really meaning. There¡¯s blue skies up here. There¡¯s grass up here. I¡¯m probably the first person to make it out of the Abyss in the last century. Not since the crane stopped or was destroyed or whatever happened to it. And I got out myself on my own power, and¡­

    Where are these thoughts even coming from? Why is all the selfishness coming out now, when I¡¯m finally out of the Abyss?

    But¡­

    They¡¯re not.

    They¡¯re all still down there. Waiting for me to come back.

    For those kinds of thoughts to cross my mind¡­ that wretched place still has me in its grasp, and it¡¯d won''t let go of me, no matter how far I run.

    I have promises to keep, after all.

    The flowers up here, for once, aren¡¯t red.

    I pluck a handful, grab a bit of rope as proof of the crane¡¯s current state, and stand on the edge of the Abyss.

    Six hundred metres back down.

    We don¡¯t need them to catch us, right, wings?

    A flap against my back says we¡¯ll be fine.

    Alright. Back down we go. I guess I¡¯ll just step off and head down¡­

    Just have to keep in mind everything I know about landing on my feet.

    ¡­

    At least, going down is a lot quicker than going up, as before long the clouds vanish beneath me and the ground comes hurtling towards me, for my wings to spread out wide and slow us down, coming to a gentle land at the base of the Crystalfall, with dozens of hopeful eyes looking upon me; the Chief at their head.

    No one says a word as I slowly approach the crowd, my eyes set on someone in particular.

    ¡°Marina¡­?¡± Irie asks, looking up at me with a worried expression.

    I smile, kneeling down and handing her the flowers I picked. Her smile lights up as, for the first time since awakening in the Abyss, she¡¯s seeing white flowers with her own eyes.

    ¡°They¡¯re really¡­ look! Adri! Mei!! White flowers!!¡± She beams, holding up the flowers to her two friends as I approach the Chief.

    ¡°So.¡± The Chief speaks, her arms crossed. I can tell she¡¯s doing her best to hide her emotional turmoil. ¡°What did you find?¡±

    I hand her the tattered rope, matted with grass and dirt as she looks down at it in bewilderment.

    ¡°What¡­¡± She starts, confusedly taking the rope.

    ¡°The crane. All that¡¯s left of it.¡±

    ¡°But, what about¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing else up there, Chief.¡± I cut her off. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    It kills me to see someone normally so proud and certain about everything in life look so unsure and crestfallen, but it¡¯s the only news I have for her.

    I quietly step aside, heading up the road back to Haven as the crowd silently parts around me. I look back just before the corner; only to see the Chief still clutching the rope I gave her, staring down at it.

    I¡¯m just going to my room and resting. I barely made it through the door before I flopped face-first onto the bed, my wings splayed out behind me.

    I forgot to grab my cloak¡­

    ¡­

    Surprisingly, the face I see when my door just opens without so much as a knock is Ingrid¡¯s.

    ¡°... Ingrid?¡± I blink, as she just enters my room like she owns the place.

    ¡°The crane.¡± She starts, standing in front of my bed. ¡°What was the state of it?¡±

    ¡°It was an old wooden platform that the grass had all but swallowed, with a few bits of rope scattered around its base. Nothing else.¡±

    Ingrid blinks in disbelief. ¡°Nothing?¡±

    ¡°Yes, nothing. If I didn¡¯t stub my toe on it, I probably would have never found it.¡±

    ¡°There was nothing else up there?¡± She repeats.

    ¡°Yes, Ingrid. There was nothing.¡± I sigh. ¡°The crane isn¡¯t our way out.¡±

    ¡°So it was dismantled.¡± Ingrid concludes, somehow.

    ¡°... How do you even know that?¡± I sit up, furrowing my brow.

    ¡°There weren¡¯t pieces of it all over the place, were there?¡±

    ¡°... Not that I could see, no. It was¡­ just the platform and small bits of rope. Nothing else. Nothing¡­ else?¡± Hang on.

    If it just fell into disrepair or was destroyed, there would be pieces of it scattered around, or the actual crane¡¯s main body would still be there. Not just¡­ an empty platform.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying it was dismantled or something like that? It wasn¡¯t smashed or just fell into disrepair?¡±

    ¡°I saw the blueprints. If it¡¯s an empty platform, we can rebuild it from scratch. We know how to.¡± Ingrid nods to herself.

    ¡°... How? I just managed to fly up there and come back in one piece, I can¡¯t bring any more than myself up there.¡±

    ¡°Could you fly up with a rope?¡± She pushes.

    ¡°That would have to be a six hundred me- tal long rope. That would be incredibly heavy. Taking it in sections wouldn¡¯t work either.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s doable, so long as you can tie ropes properly. We can set up a simple pulley, and-¡± She starts, before someone else enters the doorway.

    ¡°Marin-ah.¡± The Chief¡¯s dour expression turns to a scowl the moment she sees Ingrid. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Trying to fix your crane problem.¡± Ingrid answers bluntly.

    ¡°YOU.¡± The Chief shouts, slamming her hand against the door jam, before taking a breath to calm herself. ¡°Have other things to fix. Go.¡±

    ¡°What exactly do I have to-¡± Ingrid starts, but the Chief cuts her off.

    ¡°Ingrid.¡± She growls.

    Ingrid gets the point, shrugging lightly and leaving the room. The Chief closes the door to my room behind her, so it¡¯s just her and I, with her back to me.

    ¡°... Chief?¡±

    ¡°Marina.¡± The Chief says, her voice betraying a slight tremble before she turns, her face full of rage as she throws the bit of rope I gave her at my lap. ¡°What the HELL am I supposed to do with this?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s proof of what I saw, Chief. There¡¯s nothing left up there but the empty platform and a few loose bits of rope. Not a trace more.¡±

    ¡°And you saw fit to hand me evidence of my failure in front of everyone? In front of the entire town?!¡± She yells, but I do my best to keep cool and calm her down.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your failure, Chief. A lot thought the crane either wouldn¡¯t be functional, or that there wouldn¡¯t even be anything left of it.¡± I sigh, softening my voice. ¡°You knew this was the most likely outcome, Mia.¡±

    ¡°You will call me Chief, Marina Retali-¡± She hisses, arcing up at me again.

    ¡°Mia.¡± I repeat. She stops herself.

    *She takes a deep breath, rubbing her forehead as she stares up at the ceiling before continuing. ¡°Was there anything else up there?¡±

    I pull a blade of green grass lodged in between a knot in the rope, holding it up. ¡°There¡¯s green.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± She presses.

    ¡°There were mountains in the distance, to the north. They had some¡­ something glowing around their base, I don¡¯t know what, but it didn¡¯t look natural. Otherwise, there was nothing else. The sky was blue, though. That¡¯s good to know.¡±

    ¡°So, no hint of civilisation? No towns, roads, anything?¡±

    I shake my head in response. There was nothing.

    ¡­ Nothing. This has been repeating in my head, but there really was nothing. The wooden platform, a few stray pieces of rope that you might not even notice unless you were looking for them. Ingrid pointed out that, if it was destroyed or fell into disrepair, there¡¯d be pieces of it around the place. There¡¯s no nearby settlements in sight that¡¯d take bits of scrap from it. The fact that there was practically nothing left of it, it¡¯s almost like¡­

    It was purposely dismantled.

    The Chief quietly sits on the bed beside me, staring down at her clasped hands in her lap. I swing my legs over the side of the bed to give her space.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the plan now?¡±

    ¡°There will be a town meeting tomorrow. Everyone will be there, you included. People want to know exactly what you saw. As for what we¡¯ll do next¡­¡± She trails off, her eyes fixed on her lap.

    ¡°You know¡­ while I was up there, I had this¡­ let¡¯s say an intrusive thought, that-¡±

    ¡°That you could just, go?¡± She finished for me. I know she can read emotions, but it¡¯s like she just read my mind.

    ¡°... Yes.¡±

    ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t, so don¡¯t worry about it. You came back down to us.¡± She pats my leg, before furrowing her brow and rubbing the green stain on my knee.

    ¡°You¡¯re not worried I might just fly up out of here again and never come back?¡± I blink. If that thought crossed my mind once, it could happen again. I know I can make it out of here.

    ¡°Marina¡­ What is this stain on your knee?¡± She looks at the green mark on her hand she was rubbing my knee with.

    ¡°A grass stain, Mia. The grass up there was wet, and I forgot that grass makes stains when you¡¯re rifling around in it.¡±

    ¡°Grass¡­ stains?¡± The Chief blinks at me, before her eyes go wide as she realises, jumping to her feet. ¡°Grass stains! It¡¯s been so long since I saw grass that I forgot¡­ I completely forgot it did that! It¡¯s been so long since I¡ªI remember that summer at the hillside villa, spending all day roaming the hills and coming back with my white dress stained green from the grass, it infuriated my mother to no end... How could I have forgotten that it did that! It¡¯s been so long, that¡­¡±

    She turns back and gives me a worried look. ¡°Do you know how to wash out grass stains?¡±

    ¡°No, no I don¡¯t. I was hoping Tiff would.¡±

    ¡°Well, besides that, about how I know you won¡¯t just fly up out of here again, Marina.¡± The Chief locks eyes with me, standing in front of me. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve sat quietly in a room with her, with her silver-gold eyes fixed on mine. She narrows her eyes, leaning closer. She¡¯s close. A bit too close. Why is she still leaning closer-

    ¡°Pff¡­¡± She chuckles, leaning back. That sounded like a Tiff laugh, not a Chief laugh.

    ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere. You care about the people here too much to just abandon them.¡± She smiles with genuine warmth.

    ¡°Well, yeah, it¡¯s just¡­ when I was up there, those thoughts didn¡¯t feel like they were my own. Like someone or something¡­ put them there.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we have to get out of here together. All of us.¡± She nods to herself. ¡°It¡¯s the only way to truly break free of this place.¡±

    ¡°... Right, the other thing I had to tell you. As I was flying up. Well, two things, really. First, the river feeding the Crystalfall has a subterranean mouth. It opens part way up the cliffs, maybe three quarters of the way up. Second, and more important about the cliffs themselves, is that they¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re concave.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re¡­ concave?¡± The Chief furrows her brow at me.

    ¡°Yes, they bend inwards-¡±

    ¡°I know what concave means, Marina. But that does pose a problem¡­¡± She ponders, bringing her hand to her chin.

    ¡°Either way¡­ I know what word we¡¯ll probably hear in the town meeting tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°The Gauntlet.¡± She answers, without turning her head.

    ¡°Do you think that¡¯s an option worth exploring?¡±

    ¡°No. Not right now, at least. Getting out of here was always the long-term goal. For the short term, our goal is making sure everyone is fed, healthy, and as happy as can be. We¡¯ll have more Wolf Pups coming soon, too. There¡¯ll be plenty to keep us busy.¡± She stands up, brushing herself off and heading for the door.

    ¡°Mia?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Marina?¡± She stops in the doorway to look across at me.

    ¡°Are you ready for tomorrow? You¡¯re going to get grilled by all of Haven with questions¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you ready? You¡¯re the one with the answers. It was you who flew out of here, not me.¡± She shrugs back. ¡°Which, I do thank you for. I¡¯d have done it myself, but Rann is far too concerned with my own safety to allow me to.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d¡ªWhat? You¡¯d have done it yourself? How??¡±

    ¡°Marina.¡± She preens, puffing her chest out. ¡°I am a Sage of the Order of the Golden Light. The youngest ever to legitimately attain such a rank. Do you really think a little flight spell is beyond me? Rann¡¯s just too fussy to let me try.¡±

    ¡°What?? Then why did¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the Chief, Marina. When it comes to the running of Haven, I¡¯m a little more vital than you are. If something were to happen to you, that would be less disastrous than if it happened to me, as you¡¯re more¡­ how to put it¡­¡±

    ¡°Expendable?¡±

    ¡°You said it, not me.¡± She brushes off my exasperation, waving me as she leaves my room. ¡°Oh, by the way, Tiff still has your cloak. You might want to get that back!¡± She calls from the front door.

    I¡­

    She could fly¡­ this whole time¡­?

    Without busting her ass by exercising for months and eating mud countless times?!

    Gods.

    Magic¡¯s so damn unfair.