The gates of Kael'Tun loomed like the jaws of a beast carved from mountain and time - tall and ancient, with scales of black stone and iron vines wrapped around its hinges. Guards stood like statues, their beast forms coiled beneath skin, half-suspicious, half-bored. But as soon as they spotted Vashir, their eyes flickered... and then flickered away, as if instinct told them to look, but memory told them there was nothing to see.
Lavender barely noticed.
She was too busy spinning.
"Look!" she gasped, pointing at a hawker selling blue bread shaped like spiraling horns. "And that! Is that a three-headed parrot?"
Vashir followed behind her at a measured pace, silent and composed, though his golden eyes trailed her every movement with something between fascination and faint disbelief.
The city was alive.
Kael'Tun buzzed like a dream with a pulse - full of winding alleys, floating bridges, and buildings that leaned like gossiping old friends. Beastkin bustled through the streets, their features and forms as varied as the sky's moods. A bear-man napped on a bench, his snores rattling windows. A trio of goat children skipped across a fountain's rim. A spider-lady served shimmering honey from a stall made of silk.
Lavender, however, was barely keeping her feet on the ground.
"Did you see that bell tower?" she whispered to Vashir. "It's made entirely of dragon bone!"
He gave a short nod. "It tolls once a day. When the sun kisses the moon."
"Ohhh," she breathed. "How unnecessarily romantic."
They walked through a crowded market district where stalls overflowed with oddities - glowing moss in bottles, flutes carved from stormwood, scrolls written in runes that shimmered like ink in water.
Lavender reached toward a floating orb of jelly, only for Vashir to catch her wrist.
"Don't touch that. It's a soul echo. Probably screams if you poke it."
"Oh." She leaned in closer. "Now I really want to poke it."
Vashir sighed.
---
As they moved deeper into the city, the crowds thickened and the architecture grew more regal. Tall spires loomed, carved with symbols she didn't know but somehow felt - glyphs that tugged at the back of her brain like forgotten lullabies.
The beastmen here wore robes threaded with metal, jewelry that flickered with heat and cold. Their movements were graceful, proud. Some watched her openly, others whispered behind clawed hands.
"Is this... normal?" she asked.
"No," Vashir said.
"Because I'm human?"
"Because you're unclaimed."
Lavender raised a brow. "I don't belong to anyone."
Vashir looked at her then, slowly, and said, "Exactly."
---
They found lodging in a tall, curling inn called The Ember Nest, run by a gentle deer-woman who barely blinked at Lavender's presence. The room had a round window overlooking the city rooftops, and the bed was covered in blankets made of feather-woven cloth.
Lavender stood at the window long after Vashir had settled into the far corner like a shadow stitched to the wall.
She couldn't stop smiling.
"This place..." she murmured, "It's a living collection. Every sound, every scent, every face - it's like someone tipped over a jar of stars and let them fall where they liked."
Vashir tilted his head. "And do you still wish to collect it all?"
She turned, hair wild from wind, eyes alight with fire.
"No. I want to understand it. I want to keep it, not in a case - but in here." She touched her chest. "Every little piece."
Vashir was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, "You are unlike any human I've ever seen."
She smiled. "Good. I'd be a terrible copy."
Outside, the bells began to toll - once, twice, a long resonant chime that kissed the dusk. The city shifted with the sound, as if it exhaled.
And somewhere far below, something heard Lavender's voice for the first time - something old, and caged, and waiting to be remembered.