I looked at the foxkin’s hand, a thrill of uncertainty running through me. His smile was warm and encouraging, his fingers curled invitingly. Tentatively, my tail twitching, I reached out, slipping my hand into his. He grasped my fingers gently and gave my hand a little squeeze, holding just long enough that I relaxed before letting go.

"Starlight," I whispered, lowering my head. Perhaps it was just because High Valley was on my mind, but the name came surprisingly easily to my lips.

"An unusual name, but fitting." He flashed a smile at the children, his reddish fox tail giving a light, relaxed flick. It was tipped with white, as were his tufted ears. "Hear that? Starlight. A pretty name for a pretty lady."

"Is she going to play with us?" a girl asked, looking up at me with wide eyes. "I want to braid her hair! It’s so long!"

He laughed, ruffling her short, brown curls, his fox ears pinning back slightly in amusement. "Maybe later. But you know how the Captain is about newcomers. We don’t want another lecture, do we?"

"No!" They shook their heads vehemently. The catkin boy wrinkled his nose, sticking out his tongue. The girl just sighed and slouched.

Now that I was among them, I could sense that almost a quarter of them bore slave crests. None of them was active, and the small threads that should have bound them to their masters dangled uselessly into the mists.

Rylam cleared his throat. "I know you’re probably exhausted and have traveled far to get here, but would you mind coming with me? I need to introduce you to the captain so you can get a place. You’re not hurt, are you?"

His gaze went to my sleeve, and I clasped my arm self-consciously. My dress was ripped and splattered with blood, especially where the shard from Fyren’s sword had torn through the hemline. It sagged low on my arm, revealing much more of my chest than I would have liked.

"I’m fine," I mumbled, my cheeks warm.

The smile he gave me this time was softer. He led me through the village at a gentle, unhurried pace, the children trailing in our wake. Many had gotten bored and wandered off or were called by their parents in the gardens or homes.

The adult men and women had a wearied look about them, their faces haggard and worn with lines. They still smiled as we passed, calling out to Rylam. If anyone tried to stop us, he explained he was taking ’the newcomer to the Captain,’ and they left it at that. It seemed a fairly normal occurrence, though I still shrank under the scrutiny. If only I had a private corner to summon my guard or call Borealis.

"You seem popular," I commented quietly, sticking close to his side.

He chuckled. "Is that so? There are only a few hundred here, so we get familiar with each other. It helps that a lot of the people here knew of me from before, too. But I’m more curious about you. I didn’t see a slave crest...?"

He framed the observation as a question, and I nodded, my hand creeping up to grasp the ring. "Once, but now...I’m free."

"Free?" He smiled. "It used to be unheard of, you know, but rumors have made their way down from the Northern Continent. Apparently, there’s magic there that can break curses."

"I, um, don’t mean to sound insensitive, but you?" I asked, gesturing awkwardly at his chest.

"What, this?" He pulled aside his shirt, showing off his slave crest against his skin. "It’s nothing much. An annoyance, mostly, but as long as I’m here, it’s just a reminder."

As I studied the runes, I gasped softly. "A seventh-level crest?"

His brown eyebrows rose, his fox ears perking up in sudden surprise. I realized my mistake too late, recoiling, gripping the hem of my sleeves with both hands.

"Er, I mean...that’s what it looks like," I mumbled, staring at the ground.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, something like that."

We trailed into silence until he ventured another question.

"Where are you from? If it’s not too much, I mean."

I squeezed the ring. That didn’t have an easy answer, even when I was being completely honest.

"The Divine Throne," I finally mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting back. I didn’t have to look to see they’d caught the agitated swish of my tail.

"B-But what about you?" I asked before he could press further.

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "The Beast Kingdom, originally, but I ended up as a slave in Radia for a long time. I honestly thought that would be the case until the end of my life, but I ended up being sold to some lord on the northern continent. Demons overran their lands, and I managed to join in with the resistance forces fighting under the Apostle."

I perked up. "You did? When?"

He chuckled knowingly. "Trust me, it’s not all that heroic. Certainly nothing to be impressed about. I did fairly well, but the mood there was too dark for me, and I had someone I needed to find, so I left after a few months and made my way here. But escaped slaves aren’t seen very favorably here in the South. I ended up discovering this place and, well, haven’t left since."

"Did you find who you were looking for?"

He shook his head, his ears drooping. "No, but I wasn’t really expecting to. It would have been nice, but...that’s fate, right? But what about you? What brings such a beautiful demonkin like you to our little sanctuary?"

It was so rare to hear the word demonkin used casually, without barb or insult, that I almost forgot to blush. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I was...um, I needed to be somewhere safe."

"I get that. But I also get the feeling there’s more. Did you just break your curse? Is someone hunting you?"

"That’s...yeah."

His face softened. There was something about his eyes that made me squirm. Lying never came naturally to me, but the look he gave made it especially hard.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice, and he turned his conversation to idle chatter as we approached the makeshift fort. It was bigger than I anticipated, with walls of smooth, seamless stone over thirty feet high and twenty feet thick. Simple runes had been woven within.

The gate was much less sturdy, made entirely of wood. Metal seemed sparing in this small community, and I could imagine why. It wasn’t exactly something you could make from magic or just find lying around. And given the church’s siege of the place, trade didn’t exactly seem like an option.

Two guards in old, but well-maintained gear were posted at the gate. I was accustomed to the soldiers stiffening and saluting whenever I passed, and it was refreshing when they gave us relaxed waves. They didn’t even pull their spears closer to my unfamiliar face.

"Dragged another one in, eh, Rylam? Those church bastards must be getting lazy to let one through after the last one," one of them, a human maybe thirty years old, said.

He had a fifth-level soul, but he carefully kept his aura in check. The other was just as powerful. I shifted closer to Rylam, giving them nervous looks. That was strong enough that they’d be able to close the gap between us before I could respond.

"It’s alright, they’re friends," Rylam said, patting me on the shoulder.

I flinched, glancing at his hand. I hadn’t realized I was that close.

"Jumpy, isn’t she? Then again, they all are." The soldier straightened. "Welcome to our Keep Stardrop, last refuge of the Crimson Guard."

"Crimson Guard?"

My eyes widened, and I retreated a step, on the verge of summoning my staff. The sudden surge of aura caused the air to tighten, and the soldiers gasped, their breath constricted. Rylam stumbled a step, his face pale. Realizing what I’d done, I hurriedly smothered my aura, my tail curling.

"I...I didn’t...you’re not with..."

The soldiers stood stunned for a second, looking dazed. They shook their heads and tightened their grips on their weapons, looking around warily.

"What in the hells was that?" The first muttered, rubbing his head. "It felt like the Priest, but...more."

I’d only slipped for a second, but with an aura like mine, it was enough to stir fate. My shoulders hunched as I looked around, my tail twisting anxiously. Had Fate sensed that?

"Are you alright?" I jumped as Rylam leaned over me, searching my face worriedly. "You look pale."

Nothing brushed my soul, and there was no sign of a spatial distortion. I let out an unconscious breath, sagging a little. I looked up at Rylam, forcing a small smile.

"I-I’m fine. I just...got startled." I cleared my throat, shifting on my feet. He really was close, and yet, I felt the urge to shrink closer. He was warm. I could tell.

But I couldn’t. I cleared my throat, deliberately stepping back, and looked at the guards.

"T-The Crimson Guard?" I asked again. "But aren’t you..."

I bit my lip, curling my fingers into my skirt. The guards looked at me, confused, but how could I explain? The Crimson Guard was Radia’s elite military unit. It was they, more than any inquisitor or hero, that I’d dreaded facing in battle.

They were the ones who had fought beside Soltair, Trithe, and me at that very first fire gate so long ago. They were the first to rely on my magic, the first to stand and protect me. The first, and only, people in Radia to ever trust me.