As evening dawned on the kingdom, painting the horizon in bruised shades of purple and amber, Dan threw his heavy traveling cloak over his adventurer's vest. He buckled his leather boots tight, ensuring his footing would be absolute, before casting a quick, passive glance at the mirror hanging on the bedroom wall. He gave his reflection a single, decisive nod.
Stepping out into the grand, stone hallway, he was immediately greeted by the sight of Cyra leaning against the opposite wall.
Dan paused for a microsecond. It was genuinely one of the very few times he had ever seen the wolf princess wearing a dress. The elegant fabric draped beautifully over her athletic frame, and she would have looked entirely like a standard, graceful noble lady—had it not been for the massive, divine sword sticking directly out of her back, its phased edge cutting a silent paradox through the physical air.
A soft smile broke across her face. "Leaving already?" she asked, slipping off the wall to join him as he resumed his walk down the corridor.
"There's no time to dwindle," Dan shrugged, keeping his pace steady as they turned a sharp left down the winding hallway.
"So, Thranduil and I were doing some brainstorming earlier, and we discovered something pretty alarming—" Cyra began, her tone shifting into something more serious.
"I know," Dan interrupted quietly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "I figured the entire thing out the moment the Demon King handed me the key and the exact coordinates. The entities of that otherworld are desperate to invade our plane, and they need a specific, high-tier vessel to anchor themselves here. I know a trap when I see one, Cyra."
They reached the grand archway at the end of the hallway. Outside, the setting sun had completely bled across the sky, turning the atmosphere a deep, violent red above the sprawling canopy of the ancient beastkin trees.
"And you still actively plan on walking straight into their grasp?" Cyra asked, stopping at the threshold and crossing her arms tightly across her chest, the wind catching the hem of her dress.
"I am fully aware the creatures dwelling within that plane are going to be quite bothersome," Dan said simply, his features hardening into a stone-cold expression of absolute resolve. "But the gate of reincarnation is still rooted within the Tower of Devbatuhç nevertheless. I have a promise to keep."
Cyra tilted her head to the side, her sharp brown eyes searching his face for even a shred of hesitation. "So... there is absolutely nothing I can say right now to stop you?"
"No," Dan said firmly.
Cyra stared at him for a beat longer, then a bright, confident grin broke across her face. She held out her closed fist toward him. Dan met her half-way, throwing out his own hand and bumping his knuckles flush against hers—a silent, unspoken pact of absolute trust between comrades.
"Don't you dare lose out there, alright?" she grinned, her wolf ears twitching playfully. "And the moment you get back, we are definitely pulling a massive prank on Haki."
"You can absolutely count on it," Dan laughed, the tension momentarily breaking.
"So, how exactly are you planning on getting across the northern peaks to—"
But before Cyra could even finish her sentence, the ground beneath Dan's boots completely ceased to exist. His body effortlessly began to float into the air, gravity loosening its hold on him as his spatial and wind magic seamlessly intertwined.
"Well then! Tell Croc and Lilly I'll be gone for a little while!" he called down from above, his voice echoing over the rustling leaves of the courtyard.
Then, with a sudden, deafening CRACK and a streak of blinding, light-devouring dark light, Dan violently zoomed straight into the crimson sky like an ascending star, tearing through the clouds and leaving nothing but a lingering shockwave in his wake.
.....
"You seem troubled," came a small, cheerful voice.
Antrea flinched slightly, spinning around on the cold stone. Queen Veronica was walking slowly toward her across the high terrace, her footsteps making absolutely no sound against the ancient masonry.
"Don't fret. I actually come up here to think most of the time myself," the Queen sighed. She stepped up to the edge and took a comfortable seat right next to Antrea at the absolute peak of the citadel. From this staggering height, the entire beastkin capital was laid out below them, a vibrant tapestry of bustling streets and glowing lanterns as the townspeople moved through the evening rush.
"Care to share what's troubling you so deeply?" Veronica asked softly.
Her long, silver canine tail made a small, fluid movement against the stone before settling still behind her. She was remarkably small—standing at a mere five-foot-two—making her quite a bit shorter than the elegantly built Antrea. The massive, gold-trimmed red overcoat of royalty draped over her shoulders made her appear even more petite, almost swallowed by the heavy fabric. A delicate golden crown lay slightly tilted atop her head. Unlike almost every other beastkin Antrea had encountered in this rugged land, the Queen's hair didn't shoot out wildly or feel coarse to the touch; it was a cascade of perfectly tame, well-groomed silver silk that framed her fair-skinned face beautifully, her pristine white canine ears twitching rhythmically atop her head.
Antrea adjusted the cuffs of her modern jacket, her dark eyes looking down at the faraway crowd below. "How exactly are criminals treated here?" she asked quietly.
Even from this impressive, dizzying distance, her sharp eyes managed to spot Croc's massive silhouette. The dragon-kin was currently being led toward a wooden podium where a dozen beastkin girls—literally half her daunting size—were laughing and dancing around her. Croc looked utterly ridiculous, sitting there awkwardly with a vibrant flower crown resting on her head.
"There is almost never any internal crime in our kingdom," Veronica said, her silver eyes watching the distant dance performance with genuine interest. "But in the rare, unfortunate case that there is... depending heavily on the severity of the offense, execution and blood may very well be put on the table."
The rising night wind howled softly against the high peak, whipping through the Queen's silver silk hair. Antrea didn't turn to look at her; instead, her dark gaze remained fixed entirely on her own trembling hands resting in her lap.
"What... what happened to Beld and the human children?" Antrea asked, her voice dropping into a tense whisper.
Veronica let out a long, exhausted sigh. She reached up, plucked the small golden crown off her head, and casually tossed the priceless artifact over the ledge, watching it plummet toward the palace gardens below. "Honestly, I will never understand why we are culturally obligated to wear those rigid trinkets just to welcome foreigners. But Haki insisted it's what humans expect from royalty, so I guess it was only right I greeted your party properly."
She leaned her back against the stone battlement, her fair skin catching the moonlight. "As for your question... I have already sent them on their way back to their home kingdom. I provided them with a fully stocked royal carriage, provisions, and a squad of my most capable vanguard guards. At this point, we just have to pray they don't encounter any severe misfortune on the border roads."
"I have another question for you," Antrea said, her voice cutting through the wind, cool and entirely steady. "You're incredibly angry right now, aren't you?"
"Whatever made you say something like that?" Veronica asked, her sharp silver eyes instantly locking onto Antrea's face, the playful demeanor vanishing in a heartbeat.
"I can just tell," Antrea continued smoothly, finally looking up to meet the monarch's gaze. "Even when we first arrived at the gates, you were running around Cyra like an energetic little pup. You consciously give off the vibe of a thoroughly fun, high-spirited, and lively person. But deep down, beneath all the royal hospitality... you are fundamentally angry and completely pissed off. Why is that?"
Veronica stayed silent for a long moment. She let out a heavy, weary sigh and tilted her head back to look up at the now pitch-black sky, the radiant, warm light rising from the bustling city below illuminating the sharp contours of her face.
"Well then... let me tell you a tale about young Cyra," the small Queen whispered, her silver tail lashing once against the stone.
"As the sovereign of this kingdom, it is customary—obligatory, even—for me to maintain quite a substantial amount of royal consorts," Veronica began, her voice dropping into a rhythmic, almost hypnotic cadence that seemed to drift effortlessly on the wind. "But to be entirely honest with you... I always found the men of the courts profoundly boring."
She shifted her weight on the cold stone precipice. Far below, the flickering warmth of the city's torches cast a vast, undulating grid of amber light against the dark valley floor, but up here, the night belonged entirely to the elements. The cold night air rushed across the high peaks of the castle, carrying the sharp, crisp scent of dew-laden pine and distant rain from the heart of the forest. The silver moonlight washed over them, catching the subtle, fluid tremors of Veronica's ears as she leaned her head back against the ancient masonry.
"I inherited this throne while I was still quite exceptionally young, you see," the small Queen continued, her silver eyes reflecting the distant stars. "The previous monarch—my father—was quite the chaotic character. One morning, he simply succumbed to our primal urge for adventure, packed a single ration bag, and left his entire kingdom completely unattended. He most likely met his end in some forgotten ditch across the continent, because absolutely no one has heard a single whisper from him since."
Antrea remained perfectly silent, her dark eyes tracking the distant, microscopic silhouette of Croc down in the square, who was still awkwardly swaying to the rhythm of the beastkin dancers. She leaned her forearms against the stone guardrail, entirely captivated by the calm, measured weight behind the Queen's words.
"Unlike the human realms you are familiar with, we beastkin do not simply inherit power through a quiet lineage of blood. We violently fight for it," Veronica murmured, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "When my father vanished, a brutal trial of succession was immediately held within the confines of this very courtyard below. The absolute strongest warrior to survive the brackets was to become the next ruler. Naturally, as the eldest princess, I was thrown directly into the bloody mix."
The wind suddenly picked up, causing the gold trim of Veronica's heavy red overcoat to snap sharply against the stone.
"Up until that precise moment, I had never actually fought another living soul in earnest. But the second my boots touched the sands of the arena... I found my opponents to be rather, disappointingly weak. By the third day of the trial, it was already painfully obvious to the chiefs who would emerge victorious. And rightly so. On the final evening, after a rather spectacular bloodbath of an encounter, I stood alone as the undisputed ruler of the domain. I inherited everything my father left behind, and then some. I was immediately assigned suitable consorts—men of great physical caliber, hand-picked by the High Council that oversees the multiple territories of our borders."
Veronica paused, her pristine silver tail curling tightly around her ankles to preserve her warmth.
"I was just eighteen years old back then, Antrea. And to be completely candid with you... the mere idea of a strange man's hands on my bare skin filled my chest with an absolute, suffocating dread. I left the consorts entirely to their own devices in the lower wings, ignored their existence, and carried out my bureaucratic duties to the absolute best of my ability. But a few winters later, I began to fully realize exactly why the previous king had packed his bags and run into the wild."
She gestured out toward the infinite canopy of black trees stretching across the horizon, completely swallowing the borders of the world.
"We beastkin crave the thrill of the hunt by our very nature. But tell me, where is the adventure in endless mountains of trade paperwork? Our people never lack for food; we are embedded within a primordial forest where game and fresh meat are boundlessly abundant. As such, human countries and barren kingdoms with far less of our environmental privileges constantly try to force trade relationships upon us. It was after one of those excruciatingly long diplomatic meetings—as I dragged my feet back toward my private chambers to finally lay down and cool my aching head—that I spotted a tiny child lying right in the center of my bed."
Antrea turned her head slightly, her dark hair shifting over her shoulder as she watched the Queen's fair-skinned face harden under the moonlight.
"There was a single, weathered note pinned to her swaddling clothes," Veronica whispered, her silver eyes narrowing as the memory surged forward. "It read, simply: Haki."
The Queen let out a soft, chilling breath that misted in the cold air. "You see, I had an instant, sneaking suspicion that she had been brutally abandoned by her tribe. Haki wasn't like the typical, robust beastkin you see roaming our streets. Out there in the deep wild, being born completely blind is a fatal handicap. It instantly diminishes your chances of survival to absolute zero. And as I stood over my bed, staring down at that tiny, fragile infant... I knew exactly why her parents had thrown her away into the dark. Haki couldn't see a damn thing."
"By our very nature, the primal instincts of a beastkin are ruthlessly pragmatic," Veronica continued, her soft voice dropping an octave, carrying a chillingly hollow weight that seemed to freeze the rushing night air. "As I stood there staring down at her, my first rational thought was that she simply wouldn't be long for this world. I actually entertained the cold, dark thought of killing her right then and there. I mean... it's just the law of the wild, Antrea. You can't dump the discarded cub of a lion into the den of a tiger; it will just get violently ripped apart. It was a mercy, or so I told myself."
Antrea didn't pull away. She kept her dark eyes locked onto the small Queen, her own hands tightening imperceptibly against the stone guardrail as the moonlight illuminated the silver silk of Veronica's hair.
"But then... she cried," Veronica whispered, her white ears pinning flat against her head as the ancient memory resurfaced. "The sound violently startled me. I took a sharp step back, my boots clicking against the floorboards, just staring at this strange, fragile little creature. You have to understand, it is an extremely, profoundly rare thing to ever hear the newborn infant of a beastkin cry. Our young are born with the silence of predators."
Down below in the distant square, the bright lanterns flickered as a fresh gust of wind swept through the valley, but the bustling noise of the city felt entirely locked out of their high sanctuary.
"Her high-pitched wails echoed brutally throughout the vaulted stone of my chambers," the Queen muttered, a soft, self-deprecating sigh escaping her fair lips. "It utterly destroyed the quiet I had been craving, rattling my already aching head until my vision blurred. Man... I felt so incredibly annoyed at that baby. But the dark urge to end her life completely evaporated from my mind, replaced by a sudden, frantic panic on how to make her shut up. I completely lost my royal composure. I ordered my guards to bring fresh game meat, raw milk, whole cabbages—literally everything I could possibly think of—until my private chambers were entirely piled high with useless junk. But the child just kept on crying, her little chest heaving."
Veronica let out a soft, misty breath that dissolved into the midnight air. She turned her gaze back out toward the endless canopy of the black forest.
"Eventually, I just completely gave up. Exhausted beyond measure, I crawled onto the mattress and lay down right next to the squirming creature, desperate to get even an hour of sleep. The absolute second my warmth brushed against her, the child's tiny hands reached out. She aggressively grabbed hold of my overcoat... and the crying stopped instantly. The room fell into a dead, beautiful silence."
A gentle, genuine warmth temporarily softened the sharp contours of the Queen's face.
"That's the exact moment my sluggish brain finally remembered the simplest rule of nature: an infant, no matter the species, will always cry out when it has been torn away from the scent of its mother for too long. Before I finally closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep that night, I made a quiet, solemn vow to the gods that I would personally shield and raise this child as my own. Of course, looking back..." Veronica chuckled softly, her long silver tail swishing lazily against the stone. "...at the exact time, I couldn't think entirely straight anyway, since I was just so damn tired."
"Haki grew up under my direct care after that. Or, if I am being completely precise, she actually grew up to take care of me," Veronica laughed softly, the sound a melodic, self-deprecating chime that danced away into the midnight air. "She possessed an exceptionally acute mind. She wasn't traditionally 'smart' by academic standards, you see, but her thoughts were profoundly, fiercely logical. She stuck to my side like a shadow as the seasons turned, and I grew deeply, completely fond of her."
The small Queen leaned her head back against the ancient stone masonry, her silver ears twitching as she stared up at the infinite expanse of the dark sky. The cold night air whipped across the high terrace, carrying the rustling whispers of the massive forest below, but the two women remained completely locked in the gravity of the tale.
"Years bled into decades, and before I knew it, I had turned forty-six," Veronica murmured, her fair skin catching the pale, unyielding glow of the moonlight. "And apart from Haki, I had no other children to my name. The High Council and the tribal chiefs were starting to aggressively breathe down my neck about the royal succession, but in truth, they didn't even need to lecture me. After watching a wonderful, fiercely disciplined child like Haki grow, I had already begun to think to myself... perhaps it wouldn't actually be such a terrible thing to have a pup of my own blood."
Antrea didn't interrupt. She sat perfectly still, her dark eyes reflecting the flickering amber lanterns of the bustling town below, completely captivated by the calm, measured rhythm of the monarch's voice.
"Then, one ordinary afternoon, three completely strange youngsters abruptly materialized within the borders of my kingdom," Veronica said, her silver eyes narrowing slightly as the memory resurfaced. "Two human boys and a dragon. I call them kids simply because I was significantly older than them at the time, but to be entirely honest, they fit the mold of rowdy teenagers. Though... I am fairly certain the dragon was technically older than myself in raw years."
A phantom breeze rustled the gold trim of Veronica's heavy red overcoat as she gestured loosely with a slender, fair hand.
"The moment they were brought before my court, one of the human boys loudly and proudly proclaimed that he was an 'Adventurer' who had traveled all this way merely looking for a lost cat. He possessed messy dark hair, sharp golden eyes, and a bright, inherently mischievous smile that instantly told me he was trouble. He was a stark contrast to the quiet, stoic blonde-haired boy standing right behind him. The trio honestly looked like they had been born from pure, unadulterated mischief."
Veronica paused, her long silver tail making a slow, careful curve against the cold stone floor before settling still.
"At first, I was completely stunned by the dragon. Even though she was walking around in a compressed human form, her sheer, primordial presence demanded absolute, suffocating attention from everyone in the room. But it seemed the two boys standing next to her didn't feel a single shred of that instinctual dread. They treated her exactly like one would treat a completely regular woman or girl. Even to this very day, you will rarely ever see a true dragon casually wandering the mortal realms... and yet, there she was. She possessed vibrant red hair and a bright, fierce expression, and the three of them just ran amok through my domain, causing absolute chaos wherever they stepped."
She looked over at Antrea, her expression hardening into something deeply serious. "I knew exactly who that dark-haired boy was, of course. I had been a close comrade of his father. The boy was none other than the young King Arthur, accompanied by his legendary companions, Flynn and Ignatia."
Veronica let out a long, weary sigh that misted in the midnight air. "Well, long story short... the trio was a fiercely adventurous, staggeringly powerful bunch of kids. Haki took an immediate, intense liking to them. And eventually, when the day arrived for them to depart our forest... without uttering a single word to me, she packed her belongings and ran away into the wild with those youngsters. The moment I discovered her empty quarters, I was utterly enraged—and far more deeply sad than I had ever been in my entire life."
The silence stretched between them, heavy and profound, before the Queen continued her chronicle.
"I managed to have a biological daughter of my own a few winters later. She was a bright, energetic youngster, and I named her Heka. Probably due to my absolute lack of imagination when it came to names, it sounded terribly similar to Haki, but whatever... I went with it. Unlike Haki, however, Heka was entirely different from the moment she could walk. She didn't seem particularly interested in me, or the throne, or anything regarding her royal heritage. She desperately wanted to forge a completely separate place of her own out in the world. Don't get me wrong, she was a sweet, affectionate child... and though she was considerably weaker than Haki, she was still a fearsome warrior in her own right."
Veronica chuckled softly, a bitter, amused sound. "Over the following years, desperate people from all over the borders apparently kept dumping their unwanted infants directly into my private chambers. I honestly have no idea how the ridiculous rumor spread that the Queen took in strays, but two more children were handed to me in the dark. I took them in and cared for them exactly like I did for Haki."
Suddenly, the warmth completely drained from Veronica's face. Her silver eyes grew cold, staring blankly into the dark abyss of the distant forest canopy.
"But then... one day, I unexpectedly found myself pregnant again. I hadn't planned on harboring another pup, but the fates decided otherwise. During the entire duration of that pregnancy, Antrea... I was in constant, agonizing physical pain. The child resting inside my womb was born entirely of raw, volatile mana. And rightly so, she kept aggressively eating away at my life force, draining my energy reserves to the point of collapse. I deeply, thoroughly despised the infant before she was even born. Her mere presence inside my body bore me an immense, unyielding torture."
Veronica stood up slowly, her small five-foot-two frame suddenly casting a long, commanding shadow under the moonlight as she looked out over her kingdom.
"The exact, shattering moment she was forcefully delivered into this world... the pitch-black sky violently tore open above our citadel. And from the high heavens, a massive, divine sword descended through the clouds, pinning itself into the earth."
The small Queen turned her head, her silver gaze locking onto Antrea's dark eyes with an unyielding, breathless gravity.
"Yes," she affirmed, her voice dropping into a chilling whisper. "I had successfully given birth to the world's current, Hero that you'd all come to know as... Cyra."