As Kyia took to dusting the library shelves, the weight of her task bore down on her like the aching pain in her body. Her ribs and limbs were still tender from the punishment Bela had delivered just an hour earlier. It was a miracle that nothing was broken, as far as she could tell.

Kyia gritted her teeth as she stretched to reach the upper shelf, her side flaring with pain. She wanted to scream, not just because of the agony but because of the humiliation that it brought onto her.

The blonde was as good as dead—that had already been decided. Kyia knew that she would take great pleasure in the act of engulfing her in flames once her powers returned. As far as Luana and Sorina went, they would fry as well. Kyia's animosity towards them was just as great. They were nothing but another obstacle in her path, and they needed to die.

Now, she had been regulated to being a personal maid once again, but to the most unstable member of the batch. Daniela's mental track record was alarming. Kyia had overheard the arguments that the sisters had shared over the previous few days. The redhead could not keep her thoughts straight at all, resulting in heightened emotions over the most trivial of matters.

Delia had also been beneficial in providing some additional information about Daniela during their lunchtime conversations. What she said was no better, even if the maid hinted that she had a soft spot in her heart for the wretched witch.

As Kyia continued with her task, she felt Daniela's piercing gaze burn into her back.

"Slower," Daniela's voice spoke as she lounged on the velvet couch along the side, legs crossed. "If you go too fast, you'll miss things." She pointed at the shelf in question. "Look! See? You missed a spot. Up there. Higher."

Kyia swallowed the lump in her throat and stretched again, biting back the groan that threatened to escape as the sharp pain intensified. She dabbed at the invisible speck of dust on the shelf and turned to the next one, her hands trembling.

Another section of the shelf. Another swipe of the feather duster. Another wave of agony.

She faltered, her knees buckling slightly as her body gave a jolt of protest. Her spine roared with distress. Bela must have landed a good blow that was only now making itself known in full. Kyia felt like she couldn't stand up straight anymore. She caught herself on the edge of the shelf but couldn't stop the soft hiss of pain from escaping her lips.

"Pathetic," Daniela complained, rising from her chair with a sigh. The sound of her heels echoed as she approached the fawn slowly. "Honestly, Kyia, what use are you if you can't even clean properly?"

Kyia didn't answer, knowing there was no response that would satisfy her. She straightened as best she could, forcing her body to endure as she returned to her task. There was no telling what Daniela would do if she perceived such failure.

But Kyia's efforts were immediately proven to have been in vain.

"Enough," Daniela snapped suddenly, grabbing Kyia by the arm and yanking her away from the shelf. Kyia stumbled, the quick motion sending a fresh wave of pain coursing through her, flaring at every fiber of her nerves. Before she could recover, Daniela threw her onto the couch with enough force to knock the air out of her lungs. The brunette would have screamed if she could, as her back now throbbed with distress.

"Sit," Daniela commanded, snatching a book from a nearby table and shoving it into Kyia's hands. "If you can't clean, then entertain me. Read."

Kyia hesitated, her hands shaking as she opened the book. This was torture. She had not gone through anything like this since she first arrived in Serpenmoor.

The words on the page were laid out before her eyes, many unfamiliar. She was naturally very educated and knew how to read most words in her home world. It was surprising that these universes appeared to share common text, but sadly, many of the other words were foreign to her. Some of the letters made no sense at all. She tried to focus, doing the best she could to get it right.

"When she, I-I..." Kyia stammered. The words stumbled out of her mouth, and she could feel Daniela's impatience growing.

"Stop," Daniela barked. She snatched the book from Kyia's grasp and slapped her hard across the face with her free hand. The force of the blow sent Kyia's head snapping to the side, her cheek stinging as blood welled on her lip. She clenched one fist in her lap, but the other instinctively rose to cover her skin.

Daniela tilted her head, her amber eyes narrowing as she leaned closer to Kyia, gazing at the string of red that formed around her mouth. Soon, her gloved finger brushed against Kyia's bloodied lip, smearing the crimson before bringing it to her mouth. She licked the droplets off her finger, her tongue lingering as if savoring the taste. The fawn could only sit there and watch as it went down.

"Hmm, sweet," Daniela murmured. "It's a shame that I can't have more of you. Do you know how fun it would be to just bite down on your neck right now? Mhmm… I think it would be so delicious!"

Kyia said nothing, her head bowed as she sat frozen on the couch. Her breathing was shallow, her mind racing as she struggled to suppress the fear that she felt. Daniela was way too close for comfort, and the fawn believed that she would kill her without hesitation if provoked.

Daniela giggled as she reached out to swipe another few droplets of blood, only for Kyia to tilt her head away without realizing it. "Oh! Ah, ah, ah!" the noblewoman waved her finger back and forth. "Do not do that again, understand?"

Kyia slowly brought her head back. "Yes, Miss Daniela."

Daniela proceeded with her act as planned, brushing her finger slowly across Kyia's bottom lip, fixating on the source of the blood flow as she did. There was the tiniest cut along the edge of her pink skin. It would heal in no time, the redhead figured. But for now, she would enjoy its fruit.

Kyia's emerald eyes watched as Daniela brought her hand back up to her face and enjoyed the second course. The redhead's shadowy lids shut as she hummed with a predatory pleasure. Her hand reached out again, but as soon as it did, the sound of the library door opening put a halt to it.

Kyia turned her head slightly to see Delia enter, a duster in her hand and an expression of surprise on her face.

"Ah, Delia," Daniela said as she rose, stepping away from Kyia. "Perfect timing. You've met Kyia, haven't you?"

Delia paused, her eyes shifting to the fawn before quickly returning to Daniela. "Only in passing, Miss Daniela."

Daniela's smirk returned as she gestured toward the brunette. "Well, now she's your... partner; let's call her. I'm sure the two of you will get along splendidly. She's proven herself utterly useless at cooking and cleaning, but perhaps you can find some way to make her less of a disappointment."

Delia's eyes moved to Kyia again, lingering for a moment before she gave a small nod. "Of course, Miss Daniela."

"Good," Daniela said, dismissing the conversation at hand without a care to be seen. "Now, I have more interesting things to attend to. I expect this place to be spotless when I return, understand?"

Both Delia and Kyia replied in unison. "Yes, Miss Daniela."

The Village

Narratha shoveled another heap of snow away from the frozen ground. Her muscles ached, but they would not quit. It was an arduous task to constantly have to clear the fields of the white mounds. Every day seemed to bring forth additional storms of cold, reversing her efforts in a single afternoon. The only thing that occupied her time—for better or worse—was Marco.

The boy had made it a routine to find her as she went about her labor. There was nowhere to hide, nor did she think that assaulting the child would spare her a gruesome fate. In truth, the little conversations that they shared served to be a reasonable break from the stress of her situation. He asked her questions, and she would occasionally answer; not that it meant she had suddenly turned into a friendly figure.

He was still a pest, and she was still a dangerous stranger. Narratha had hoped that her constant attitude would have driven him away, only for the boy to prove to be as stubborn as she was. Fitting, she thought, of what happened when two stubborn people interacted.

"I saw at least five of them the other day, all running together," Marco exclaimed, standing against a low wooden fence. His small, round face was bright with excitement, cheeks flushed from the cold. Despite the frost in the air, he barely shivered as he pointed to the woods in the far distance. "Deer! They're everywhere around here. Sometimes, if you're really quiet, they'll come close enough to see their little noses twitching."

Narratha rolled her eyes as she scooped another pile of snow off the stalks. "Deer," she muttered under her breath, the word foreign and odd. "You've been talking about these creatures all week, and I still have no idea what they are."

Marco's eyes widened, looking amazed, as usual. "What? How can you not know what a deer is?"

"I'm not from around here, remember?" Narratha replied blandly, her eyes centered on the piles of cold at her feet.

Marco jogged closer to her, his small boots crunching in the snow as he shuffled forward. "Oh! Well, they're... I don't know how to explain it! They have four legs, little ears, and these cool antlers—"

He suddenly froze and then vigorously tapped the redhead's leg. "Look! There's one now!"

Narratha paused midswing, following Marco's gaze. Sure enough, a creature darted across the field, its light-brown coat standing out from under the grey clouds. The animal's movement was swift, faster than she would have expected. Speed aside, it was the antlers that stuck out to her most above all.

"That's a deer!" Marco spoke excitedly.

Narratha hummed softly, watching the animal disappear into the woods. "Huh. Where I come from, we have something that looks a little like that. It's called a dhin."

"A dhin?" Marco tilted his head, puzzled. "What's a dhin?"

"Imagine your deer," Narratha began, leaning on her shovel as she waved her hand around, "but bigger. Much bigger. They have these huge shoulders and thick necks, but their faces are stretched—sort of like a grin. And instead of those harmless teeth your deer probably have, dhins have rows of sharp, long teeth, like little daggers."

Marco's face paled slightly, reducing the flushed texture that it had moments ago. "Wait... dhins eat meat?"

Narratha chuckled, almost amused. She was having some fun with this. "Oh, they don't just eat it. They hunt it. They'll stalk you for hours. When you finally realize that one has been following you, you'll notice it standing there, smiling, with all those teeth on display. As big as they are, they are fast, and when they bite you..." She bared her teeth in an exaggerated snarl, leaning toward Marco. "They don't let go."

Marco took a small step back, visibly unnerved by Narratha's words. "But deer don't eat meat!" he protested. "They just nibble on grass and stuff."

Narratha shrugged. "Your deer are docile creatures, then. Dhins? Aggressive animals, they are."

Marco shivered, glancing nervously toward the woods where the deer had vanished. "Well, good thing we've got beastmen to protect us."

Narratha raised a brow. "Beast-men?"

"Yeah!" Marco said, his enthusiasm returning. "My dad says the beastmen keep the village safe from intruders. I've never seen one, but he says they are people that look like dogs. Hairy and mean, with lots of teeth. Oh!" His eyes lit up. "Kind of like a dhin, right?"

Hearing this, Narratha's lips curled into a knowing smirk. She had realized what he meant: Lycans. "Oh, your dad's stories are true," she said. "I can promise that they don't like me."

Marco's eyes widened. "Wait, you've met one? A real beast-man?"

"I met several," Narratha replied casually, the corner of her mouth rising to her freckled cheek. "They ambushed me in the woods when I first arrived here."

Marco was practically vibrating with curiosity now. "What happened? Did you run away?"

"No." Narratha smiled. "I killed two of them."

Marco's jaw dropped. "What? You killed two? How?"

"With my sword," Narratha said simply, gripping the shovel as though it were the weapon in question. "They weren't as good at planning their attacks as I was. Strong, yes, but tunnel vision leaves a lot of space to get stabbed."

Marco's gaze moved where the Maiden of War statue loomed in the distance. "Did you look like her when you fought them? Like the Maiden of War?"

Narratha followed his stare, her lips keeping that faint smirk. "The Maiden?" she said with a low chuckle. "No. She looks like she knows what she's doing here." She thrust her shovel into the snow, leaning on it as she caught her breath, thinking about her choice to enter this world in the first place, unaware of what sort of world she had jumped into.

"So... where'd you get your sword from?" Marco asked, stealing her attention yet again.

Narratha shrugged her shoulder, choosing to keep the past simple, as always. "I found it."

"Just found it? Like, lying on the ground?" Marco pressed, kicking his legs. "Usually, warriors pull their swords from a stone or win it in a big battle."

"Yes, I just found it." Her tone carried a hint of warning, but Marco was undeterred. He still wanted to know more about her.

"Was there a reason why you kept it?"

"It was fitting," Narratha said cryptically.

"Fitting for what?"

"I just think it was fitting that the sword I found ended up in my hands. It was mine from then on, and that is all that mattered," she replied, picking up her shovel again. In truth, she had discovered that sword whilst combing through the castle that she would later make into her own temple of violence.

Centuries before, during the war between fawns and poils, a great battle had taken place there, which saw several fawns decimate hordes of poil men who had attempted to besiege the castle. At the time, the fortress had been used as a hiding spot for many of the women. When the poils had arrived, the surges stayed back to fend them off. With countless skeletons littering the lower levels, Narratha had stumbled across the perfectly preserved weapon.

It was only fitting that a poil's sword would later be used against them in the future.

Marco paused, moving from the fence and closer to her. "Have you ever heard of dragons?"

Narratha glanced at him, one brow raised along her freckled face. "Dragons?"

"Yeah! Big, scaly beasts with wings. They breathe fire, and some have treasure! My dad told me a story about one once. They're supposed to be super strong and really smart! That's why they guard the treasure!"

Narratha looked up at the sky with a grin. "Winged beasts, huh? I've seen strange monsters in my time," she said slowly. "But nothing like that."

Marco already looked disappointed. "I hope they're real..."

"In this world?" Narratha scoffed softly. "I wouldn't be surprised. It seems like anything could exist here. Maybe I'll see one eventually."

Marco put up his arms in a display of triumph. "If you can kill a beastman, then I'm sure no dragon would be a match for the mighty Narratha!"

That was when she choked up. Narratha's eyes grew wide, and she had to look away, leaning over to the side as it became harder to breathe. "The mighty Narratha." She had been called that once before.

Balia. Her dear Balia.

Marco immediately took notice of how unnerved that she was, which caused the boy to move in closer as he hesitated to speak. Instead of words, his arm reached out to tap her hip, but Narratha was still too engrossed in her thoughts to take notice. But as soon as his fingers contacted her, she spun around and shot a stare that bore into his little soul.

"What did you just call me?"

"Uhm…" He wasn't sure whether he should answer that question or not. Her words were laced with danger, but Marco thought lying would have only placed him in more trouble. He still wasn't certain of what he did that was wrong. "I called you the mighty Narratha."

"Don't call me that anymore, got it?" She dropped her shovel into the snow, turning around to face the mountains. The boy could hear her exasperated breaths from where he stood.

"I'm sorry, Narratha," he spoke with a shaky voice. "Why are you upset? Did I do something?"

Narratha's shoulders tensed, and her jaw tightened. Something about his question had set her off. "Just be quiet," she said, pointing at him with a wrathful expression. "For the rest of the day, I don't want to hear another word from you."

"Okay…" Marco moved back a little bit, trying to put some space in between the two of them. But Narratha wasn't finished. As soon as he shuffled away another foot, her emerald glare went right back onto him.

"It's bad enough that I have to do all this work. Having you in my ear half the time is only making it worse."

The boy flinched at her tone, his wide eyes watering. His lip quivered as he tried to hold back his emotions, but a tear slipped down his cheek. He began to whimper softly, unable to shield the way she made him feel.

"I'm sorry," Marco's voice quaked as additional tears trailed down his flushed cheeks. "I didn't mean to make you mad. I'll stop…"

"Oh, look who finally gets it. It only took…" Narratha dipped her head down, only to glance back at him as she stood still, her lips twisting at the sight of it. She knew that she had gone too far. It would have been an act to play up the anger that was no longer in her body. "Stop crying," she told him.

Marco sniffled, but the tears kept coming. He already felt broken enough. Hearing more of her tirade would only worsen the sting. "I'm sorry... I'll just go home."

"No. Stay," Narratha said, her tone softening just slightly. "Don't walk away."

He looked up at her, confusion lining his distraught face. "Why?"

"Because I'm not finished talking," she said, pointing to the ground in front of her.

Marco hesitated but obeyed, both curious and fearful of what was going to come out of her mouth. If she wanted to hurt him, she could. There was no guarantee of what would happen next.

Narratha picked up her shovel and leaned on it again, her hand brushing against her bundles of red hair. "Adults are always angry, aren't they?"

Marco nodded. "Yeah, they are."

She exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. "Everyone's angry for their own reasons. I cannot speak for other adults, but I can speak for myself. A part of me..." She trailed off, her voice faltering. "A part of me is angry because I don't feel so strong sometimes. It wears me down and I don't know what to do."

Marco blinked, shocked to hear her speaking like this.

Narratha withdrew her hand from her hair and looked down at it, briefly making a fist and watching her knuckles turn white. All she could think about was the girl that she failed to protect all those years ago. "I used to tell myself that I didn't deserve to be a mother because of it, but I wanted to be a mother. I fail and I lash out, but I'm not strong for yelling at a child the way I just did. Damn it… I feel so weak."

"I'm sorry," Marco replied. "You're not weak."

"Stop apologizing all the time," she continued, looking back at him as she shook her head. "Just be a damn kid. What could someone your age possibly do? You have nothing to be sorry for." Narratha's hand returned to anxiously brushing the edges of her bushy hair, right as she said something that she would have never spoken in her own universe. "I'm the one who is sorry. Something is wrong with me."

The library

Kyia held back a wince as she lifted a stack of books, setting them on the table with more force than she intended. The pain in her ribs made her pause, one hand briefly resting against her side. Delia, who was carefully dusting a high shelf on the opposite side of the room, glanced over.

"Are you all right?" Delia asked, concern written on her face. She stepped down from the stool she was using, her feather duster clutched tightly in one hand. She already knew the answer.

Kyia nodded quickly, forcing a tight smile, though her body shuddered when she went to turn back around. "I'm fine. Just... sore. Nothing to worry about."

Delia frowned, setting the duster down as she walked closer. "You've been in pain ever since I got here. What happened? Please, just tell me."

Kyia's mind raced. She saw an opportunity to tilt the narrative in her favor—a chance to solidify her place with Delia. Her eyes dropped, and she let out a soft sigh, feigning defeat. "It's... it's complicated. Maybe we could talk about this another time."

Delia's willingness to assist her did not waver, just as the brunette hoped. She moved closer, nodding as she placed her left hand softly upon Kyia's thin shoulder. "You can tell me. I'll listen."

Kyia bit her lip and crinkled her eyelids. "Luana and Sorina," she began, "they don't like me. I don't know why. When I first got here, I asked some questions about the way things worked—maybe too many questions. Was I stressed? Yes. I'm not always the best when my emotions get the better of me, but...

Delia's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Luana and Sorina? They're so kind."

Kyia let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling slightly for effect. She had to play the part perfectly. There could be no cracks in her performance. This was her only shot. "That's what I thought, too. I was happy to be there at first, but then the more time I spent with them, the worse things got. Luana acted just like Bela. She would degrade me whenever I'd mess up. Sorina wasn't as bad, but she always agreed with her. I guess I just couldn't take it anymore, and I argued back. I thought things were okay after that, but then Bela came in today and attacked me. I don't know why, but if I had to guess, I imagine Luana must have said something to her."

Delia's eyes widened in shock. "What? That's... that's horrible. Luana wouldn't do that, right?"

"I don't know," Kyia mumbled, taking a seat on the edge of Daniela's couch as she brushed her hand against the side of her eye. "I remember I had a knife when the argument was happening, and I waved it as I pointed to one of the stoves, but then Luana shrieked and went on about me threatening her with it. I put the knife down, but then she just kept going. I think she saw it as an excuse to get me out of there."

"Wait, Kyia…" Delia leaned in closer. "Did you—?"

"No!" Kyia exclaimed, her voice cracking as a false tear fell. "I would never do something like that! I didn't even realize I still had it in my hand! Knowing that Bela would..." She trailed off, gently touching her bruised side. "...knowing what she'd do, I think Luana lied to her about it."

Delia's face was plastered with disbelief. "That doesn't sound like them at all, but... you've mentioned they've been hostile before. And you do seem genuinely hurt, not just from what Bela did to you."

Kyia sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm not perfect, Delia. I've made mistakes. I know I can be annoying, but I don't deserve to be treated like this. I thought I could rely on my fellow maids, but they—"

Delia immediately hugged her. "You're a good woman, Kyia. I can tell. I'm so sorry you've had to go through this."

Kyia lowered her head, as though embarrassed by the show of support. "Thank you," she murmured.

Delia sighed. "Maids do fight sometimes," she admitted. "It's not uncommon. But I've never heard of it going this far. If Luana and Sorina really did what you said, then why didn't Bela just...?"

"Kill me?" Kyia finished for her. "I wondered that, too. Maybe she doubts their story. I'm honestly surprised that I'm still breathing."

Delia hugged her tighter as she considered the possibility. "You might be right. Bela is known for restraint, especially when it comes to choices like killing. Rumor has it that there is such low staff that they're not allowed to just kill on a whim anymore. Lord Dimitrescu must be the deciding factor."

"I see," Kyia said, taking in that crucial piece of information. "I'm glad to be alive. That's all that matters. I just don't want to be anywhere near that kitchen anymore."

Delia's gaze turned to the door. "It is strange," she admitted. "Luana's always seemed so loyal to us. She's Bela's closest maid, yes, but why would she allow you to get hurt?"

Kyia gave a small, bitter laugh. "Who knows? All I know is that she and Sorina stood there, watching me get attacked. The funny thing is... neither of them looked worried. They just stood where they were."

Delia sighed again, releasing Kyia and tilting her head in thought. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I don't talk to Luana or Sorina often—I hardly see anyone since I'm kept here in the library all day."

Kyia chuckled lightly, trying to inject a little bit of life into the conversation. "Well, now you've got me for company. Looks like we have plenty of time to talk."

Delia smiled faintly, though she still appeared to be troubled by what was told to her. "I suppose so. It is nice to have some company for a change. And I am glad that it is you, Kyia."

"As am I," the fawn replied, doing her best to stand up and resume her work. "Thank you for listening to me. I'm sorry that I had to burden you with all of this, but it was such a relief to finally be able to talk to someone."

"Of course," Delia told her, a smile brimming across her pale cheeks. "That's what friends are here for."

"Friends indeed." Kyia smiled back at her. As she went about her tasks, she could still feel Delia's eyes setting on her from time to time. However, it wasn't a stare of doubt—but concern. It was just what the brunette wanted.

A small victory, but a vital one at that. Being in the library would give her time to concoct the next part of her plan. Though Daniela was the most insane of the batch and treacherous to navigate around, Kyia believed that she could work with these circumstances.

That dagger was close by, somewhere. If that note in the attic was still there, then she would need to find a way to it. Her green eyes tilted toward the skylight, noticing the grey clouds up above. The attic could not have been too far away, she figured.

It was all just a matter of time.

...

As Daniela strode down the hallway on her way to the kitchen, her lips tingled faintly. She could still taste the sweetness of Kyia's blood, but there was something else that captured her focus. She licked her lips again, savoring the memory while also trying to separate it from this new sensation.

Did I eat something earlier? Huh. Maybe it was the wine.

As she moved further from the library, the faint, buzzing sensation in her mouth began to intensify. It was strange, almost like a tickle at the edges of her gums. She slowed her steps, raising a hand to touch the corner of her jaw where the sensation seemed to linger. Warmth radiated from there, traveling around the corner of her jawline and down the edge of her throat. She felt it in her skin. In her flesh.

Inside her flies.

A puzzled look crossed her face.

"What is this?" she murmured, pressing her fingers gently against her lifeless complexion. She shook her head, trying to dispel the strange feeling. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it was disorienting. It was as if something was gradually making its way across from her.

Daniela continued to move, her heels clicking against the marble floor, their pace picking up along the way. She told herself it was nothing, but as she approached the dining room leading down to the kitchen, the warmth flared again, hotter this time. Her vision blurred, and she stopped in her tracks, one hand gripping the wall for support.

The world around her darkened without warning. Her vision had been shut off, causing distress to engulf her body. Suddenly, her mind briefly witnessed flashes of odd lands. Bright, lush forests. Dark cities. Purple and red skies of worlds unknown. A church in the middle of nowhere.

What are these places? Why am I seeing this?

That was when the voices kicked in.

"Leon, run!" A young woman cried out. "Leon!" The sound of gunshots roaring in the distance was heard in the background of her eardrums, only for the girl to scream again. "Cari-Luta, stop this!"

Another ring of gunshots. "I got you, Leon! We're getting out of here together."

Daniela's mind swirled as the tingling ran up to her ear. For a second, she could have sworn that she heard Bela talking.

"I wish I had met you sooner too, Edith."

The redhead shook her head to drown out the sounds.

That can't be Bela! Who is Edith?

Suddenly, her head underwent another whirlwind. The image of the church on the outskirts returned to her mind. A brief flash of a woman in a blue tank top laying on the ground, a pistol nearby, and a nun and a man kneeling beside her. More voices were heard again.

"She just appeared out of nowhere," the man said.

"Another one. I'll stand by her," the nun replied, her voice calm and somewhat delicate. "When she wakes up, I don't want her to be surrounded by so many strangers."

"I understand. Just be careful; that's all we ask."

"I know," she answered. "She will probably be very scared. But I must help her."

"You're a good woman, Vikcia."

Daniela clutched her head, her fingernails digging into her scalp through her hood.

"Shut up!" she hissed through gritted teeth, but the voices did not relent. They rose to a fever pitch, merging and blurring into one continuous barrage of sound. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed against the wall, clutching onto the windowsill before her body could hit the ground.

The spinning sensation in her head grew unbearable. For a brief, terrifying moment, she felt as though her head would erupt. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the chaos ceased.

Daniela gasped, her chest heaving. The voices were gone, the warmth receding beneath her skin. She slowly rose, her hand still gripping the edge of the window frame. Her surroundings had returned to normal—her sight back in full, and the room no longer spun. But her mind was anything but calm.

"What was that?" she whispered.

She touched her throat again, expecting to feel something else besides a fly crawling across her skin. There was nothing. Her hand dropped to her side as she stood up, taking a moment to steady herself.

Daniela's thoughts went everywhere. She forced herself to take a deep breath as she sought to figure this all out. Whatever this was, she couldn't let it show—not to her sisters, and certainly not to their mother. She had to keep it hidden. There was already enough negative light being cast on her now. It was not the time to complicate matters further with her drama.

She soon resumed her walk to the kitchen. Her steps were slower. The tingling in her jaw was gone, but her mind remained clouded with questions. Daniela was not one to be easily shaken, but this... was different.

Who were all those people? Where are they?

The Village

The day had transitioned into the mid-evening, which saw the parting clouds casting a golden ray of sunshine down onto the village. It lit up the fields in a bright show of yellow but did nothing to warm up the environment. Narratha's breath visibly escaped her lips as she shoveled the rest of the snow out from the perimeter of the field. She could feel the sweat forming inside her gown, but if she stopped, then the chill of the air would truly set in.

Marco stood beside the broken-down cart along the edge of the dirt pathway, his small hands fiddling with a loose thread on his jacket. His gaze was fixed on Narratha as she went about her work. Her apology had carried a great deal of weight. There wasn't much that was said afterward, but the woman did not hide how much she was trying to distance herself from the anger that she had shown.

Her inner turmoil was under control, and while it was still unresolved, she seemed to have found some relief in admitting to some of her problems.

As he watched her heave the massive clumps of snow, he found himself happy to return to speaking with her. "How do you not get tired?"

Narratha let out a short, humorless laugh as she went on. "I do get tired," she said matter-of-factly. "But the world doesn't care about that. Neither does this snow, apparently." She planted the shovel firmly in the ground, standing still for a moment as she eyed him. "Why aren't you with your parents, anyway?" she asked with a raised brow.

Marco shifted uncomfortably, tugging the thread loose and twirling it around his finger. "Dad's... busy with stuff," he mumbled. He avoided her eyes, instead staring at the muddied snow under his feet.

"I see," she said, not liking that response as much as she wanted to. She bent down to haul the last piles of snow over her shoulder, hoping to finish up as soon as possible. "Lord Heisenberg will be here soon," she said, almost to herself but loud enough for Marco to hear.

"Why do you have to stay with him?" Marco asked, sounding both nervous and curious at once.

Narratha turned her head to look at him and shrugged her shoulders with a heavy nonchalance. "It's the rules," she replied. "I work for him. Simple as that."

"The lords are scary," he admitted, concealing his voice as best he could so that no one else besides her could hear it.

A low chuckle escaped Narratha's throat, though there was no humor in it. "They're not scary," she muttered, thinking about how easily she could probably kill them once she regained her powers. "They just think they are."

Marco tilted his head again, but before he could ask any more questions, Narratha's focus shifted past him, fixating on a figure in the distance.

Heisenberg. Speak of the Devil himself.

Narratha's expression changed as she glanced down at Marco. This wasn't about her anymore. "You need to leave," she said firmly, motioning with her head toward the path back to the village. "I'll be here tomorrow. Same time. You know that."

"But—" Marco wasn't sure of what to say to her, even if his own sense of danger was sounding off.

"No buts," Narratha interrupted. "Go."

Marco scrambled to his feet, heeding her warning instantly. He took a step toward the houses nearby, then paused. Before Narratha could urge him again, he darted forward and wrapped his small arms around her leg, hugging her tightly.

Narratha froze, her entire body stiffening at the unexpected gesture. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency. But there was no real anger behind her words. She just stood there.

Marco looked up at her with a shy smile. "Saying goodbye."

A groan rumbled in her chest, but it was softened by the faintest hint of a chuckle. Her hand hovered awkwardly for a moment before she reached down and patted his head, her touch hesitant but not unkind. Her fingers brushed around his hair for a second or two.

"That's enough," she muttered, gently prying him away.

Marco stepped back, his grin widening for a moment before he turned and ran off, disappearing toward the rest of the village. Narratha watched him go, her emerald gaze lingering on the spot where he had vanished. It was a strange outcome for sure. A few days ago, she would have been tempted to kick the annoying boy across the snow, but today...

Today she was okay with it.

"Sentimental, are we?" Heisenberg's mocking voice yanked her from her thoughts and back into reality. By the time Narratha spun around and gasped, his face was only two feet away from hers. She couldn't believe how oblivious she was to the rest of the world for however long it took him to reach her.

The bearded man huffed a drag of his cigar, blowing that nauseating smoke in her direction. "Glad to see that you're making friends," he said with a smirk.

Narratha's eyes slowly turned to the ground, her hand taking hold of her shovel and cradling it under her arm, prepared to go with Heisenberg back to his factory. "He's just a boy," she replied, her tone quieter than usual. "I showed him a bit of kindness, and that's what he did. Kids will be kids."

Heisenberg peeked over her shoulder, right where Marco had darted off. The man appeared to be intrigued, but he also looked like he could care less. Children weren't a threat—not this one, at least. "I hate kids."

Narratha nodded as she sighed, doing her best to end the conversation. "Me too."

Locwitary – 512 years before Cassandra's arrival

It had been several weeks since Renilvo was allowed to stay with the group. There had never been a prior arrangement set in mind. There was no set date for when the man had to leave. Talks had been made occasionally between the three fawns to come up with a plan for how they could get him back to his original settlement. Vattia and Oenella—two standard surges—could not naturally drum up that sort of power, even with their enhanced abilities.

Kyia, on the other hand, would have likely been more than capable of traversing such vast distances with her teleporting, as long as she knew where to go. It would have seemed like a simple solution, but for some reason, the brunette stonewalled the idea at every turn. It frustrated her two friends, who both wanted to see Renilvo gone from their way of life.

It was on one cool morning that Kyia was standing over Kalennia's crib when she heard the tent flap move from behind her. The slender fawn peeked over her shoulder, calling out her friend's name. "Good morning, Vattia." But her emerald eyes widened as soon as she realized that it wasn't her, but Renilvo.

The young man nodded respectfully as he slowly approached her. "Apologies, Kyia. Good morning."

"What are you doing here?" She asked with a somewhat bitter snap in her voice, her eyes darting back and forth between him and the entrance. Kyia's hand hovered over her child, just as she felt the warmth of her powers beginning to radiate through her fingers. She wasn't afraid to batter him if it meant protecting her girl. "You know not to come in here!"

"I'm sorry," he said again, lifting his hands in that classic display of peace. She still didn't trust him completely, no matter how much time they spent together. "I was looking for you, and I couldn't find you. I figured that you would have been in here."

With a grunt, Kyia huffed and turned toward him, placing herself between him and Kalennia. Her shoulders lifted and lowered, mirroring her tense breathing. It only subsided a few seconds after she reminded herself that she was the one in control. "Renilvo... you know that this is where Kalennia is. You are lucky that it wasn't Vattia in my place instead."

"Yes," he agreed, softening his voice to emphasize his weakness against her. "I understand. I can apologize until the Spector Moons set, if you want. I truly did not mean to intrude. Your friends are busy, and quite honestly, you were the one I was hoping to speak to."

She let out a long exhale, shutting her eyes and brushing her thin fingers against her pale forehead. Her curly locks of dark hair dangled from her temples right before her green irises revealed themselves yet again. "Then what is it that you want?"

"I wanted to show you ladies a dish that my family used to make back when I was younger." He pointed his finger toward the tent flap, back to where the forests were. "My town used to be able to source the ingredients back then, but then they ran out. I was stunned to see the same fruits and berries during my journey here."

She squinted her brow, gesturing in the same direction as him. "So, you're asking me to allow you to venture out in the forest... to pick berries?"

"No," he said, pointing to her. "I wanted to know if you would accompany me."

"No," Kyia retorted, shaking her head without a second thought. "I am not leaving my daughter if I don't have to, and I am not going back into those forests right now. It is a stupid idea, and if you wish to place yourself at risk for some berries, then what was the purpose of me helping you?"

"You're right." He nodded, acting as though he already had a follow-up statement at hand. "It is a stupid idea, but over the last few days, I've been wondering what the answer to that question is as well."

She glanced at him, raising her eyebrow. "What?"

"Oenella and Vattia do not like me," Renilvo stated, curling the edge of his mouth in defeat. It wasn't an act. She could tell that he genuinely sought their approval. "I'm not going to pretend that my people aren't the ones that started this war, nor will I pretend that this war isn't the reason you're so distrustful of me."

"I'm not…" Kyia shuffled around as she looked across the room, her eyes setting on Kalennia. "I have a daughter, Renilvo. She lives in a world of violence. People want to kill her because she is a fawn; does that not tell you why I am so cautious? I am a mother. You would not understand."

"I don't," he admitted. "I don't understand anything about fawns, but besides your powers, what is so different between the two of us?"

Kyia paused as she stared at him, expressionless. "I am your only good grace in this camp, Renilvo. It is my recommendation that you do not squander that."

"I wanted to show my gratitude for what you have done for me," Renilvo said as his eyes fell onto Kalennia from across the room. "I don't want that world of violence, either. It must start somewhere. I think it began when you saved my life."

The way she felt after listening to his statement was something that she could not measure. It was a sort of feeling that she had never felt before. It could only be described as a mixture of gratitude and longing. Kyia knew that there was more that he could tell her, and she wanted to hear it, but something inside of her prevented the verbal request. Hesitation, she wondered?

"And it continues with us picking berries?"

He let out a bit of laughter. "Fruits too. I'm sure we can find some natural spices around the forest too. All I'll need is a fire, which is easy." He flicked his eyes at her hands, hinting at her abilities. She brushed her thumb against the edges of her forefinger upon seeing where his gaze went.

"Ugh…" Kyia shook her head, feigning irritation. "Just... stop pretending that you sound convincing, alright? If you want to cook for us, then fine. I'm getting hungry anyway. I'll take you to the forest, and you will make it quick. I already know where the fruits and berries and whatever else you want are, so there is no need to linger."

He smiled at her in a way that she had never witnessed someone smile. Then again, she had never been in the company of a man for this long. Did they always smile like this? "Thank you, Kyia. By the way, may I see her?"

The fawn appeared guarded, her brow tensing as she considered him even touching her child. Yet, with caution holstered in her heart, she nodded, eyeing him as he made his way closer to Kalennia. Kyia didn't know why she allowed such an action. She was ready to send him across the room if he dared to try anything. It would take a spark of her powers to crumple his body into a broken mess.

Renilvo approached Kalennia and waved at her, cooing at the infant in the softest voice that he could muster. The baby fawn returned the gesture, smiling back with her round, rosy cheeks. Kalennia reached out for him within seconds, and the man forgot to ask for permission before he extended her hand out to her.

Kyia watched as her daughter took hold of his finger in the palm of her hand. Renilvo only realized what he had done just a few seconds later. "Oh, my! I am sorry! I should have asked!"

"No," Kyia said with a smile of her own that parted her thin, pink lips. "It's okay. I think she likes you."

NOTES:

Hello! Posting this one another day early yet again! I hope you all enjoyed it!

Narratha seems to be warming up to Marco, even if her emotions are still all over the place. We are seeing a side of her that Leta never got to witness in Fragmented Flies. She can be somewhat kind and sociable, especially when given the chance to feel important. I guess the barriers stripped away more than just her powers, as the ingested fawn blood that intensified her hatred is also not as potent in her system.

In simple terms, she's being rational.

On the other end of rationality, Kyia is trying her best to sow the seeds of discord. While being attacked by Bela and sent off to the library was not planned, she is still up to no good. Some of you have been asking how the puzzles in this story will go. Perhaps they may be one or two, but the castle will remain the same. How Kyia gets around will be revealed soon.

And as for Daniela, it seems as though fawn blood also has its effects on her, similar to the metal fragments seen in Fears. Fawn blood aided Cassandra in Flies, so what would it do to Daniela here? Biting Kyia may not be the best option, despite its healing qualities.

As far as the voices go, everything is deliberate. There are other stories in this series planned for the future.

The Leon/Ashley story will come out in the future, involving the pair transported to a dark, fairytale world, where they find themselves in a village not plagued by a virus—only nature itself.

Jill will also be getting her own story, which is planned to be a heavily contained adventure involving people from various different worlds.

We're getting closer to the big day in this story. Expect some more scenes with Narratha and Marco, Daniela being Daniela, Kyia being... well, Kyia, and advancing her plan in the next chapter. I believe a scene with Mother Miranda is due.

The next chapter will be out in a week, so I'll see you on the 29th!

Until then, I hope you all enjoy your weekend and stay safe out there! Thank you so much for all the support!