Jake gathered Elena into his arms, lifting her with practiced ease into a careful princess carry. She barely stirred, her head settling against his shoulder as if it belonged there. Her breath was slow and even, warm against his collarbone, and the faint scent of wine and caramel clung to her hair.
He carried her to the edge of the wall beneath the same old tree, its branches whispering softly above them. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, dappling her face in violet light. Jake paused there, just for a moment longer than necessary.
He looked down at her sleeping form. The tension he always carried loosened, if only slightly. Her lashes rested against flushed cheeks, her expression unguarded in a way she never allowed herself while awake. One of her hands had curled into the front of his coat, fingers clutching fabric as though afraid he might disappear.
Jake swallowed.
Careful not to wake her, he adjusted his grip, one arm secure beneath her knees, the other firm around her back. He closed his eyes and pictured her room in precise detail: the heavy curtains, the familiar arrangement of furniture, the quiet safety of it. He held the image steady in his mind, anchoring himself.
The shadows gathered at his feet, rising as ink poured into water. They coiled around them both, cool and weightless, responding to his intent.
Then, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, the world folded.
The tree, the wall, the night air—all of it vanished.
And just as suddenly, they were gone.
Lily yelped as she saw a figure appear from the corner of the room, and her eyes grew wide in worry, seeing Elena slumped into Jake.
"Lady Falmil," she said in a whisper, but wanted to cry it out, but knew it if she did. Her secret would be discovered as she rushed over to the two of them.
"She's fine, just… drunk," he murmured, his eyes still lingering on her form.
Lily looked up at him, frowning, "Just drunk," she repeated slowly, as he brushed past her and settled Elena down in her bed.
He looked down at her, seeing her peacefulness as her fingers still clutched his jacket. He carefully grabbed her hand and moved her fingers slowly off his jacket before settling her hand down.
"You really let her get drunk out on an adventure?" Lily said, crossing her arms, as she walked up next to him.
Jake sighed, shaking his head, as he straightened. "I warned her against it, but she insisted," his tail flicking once, but a small smile still lingered.
Lily sighed in annoyance, but her shoulders loosened. "I will get her ready for bed; you just get changed."
Jake just grunted in acknowledgment as he went to the closet, found the hidden cabinet, and quickly changed. Sighing in relief, feeling the heavy weight of his jacket. When he exited the closet, he looked around and saw Lily tucking in Elena. Then Lily noticed him and smiled.
"Be safe, alright?" she said, and Jake nodded, then Lily added quietly, "For her sake," her hand resting on Elena's shoulder.
Jake just smiled warmly as he asked, "Can you tell her good morning for me, and not to get drunk again?" his tail wagged slightly, which brought a curious look to Lily.
Then she nodded, "I will tell her that, and trust me, she will be scolded by me as well," she said with a menacing smile, which Jake shuddered at.
"I should be going," he murmured as he started to walk to the door to the balcony.
Lily nodded, "Good night."
"Night,"
Jake closed the door behind him, but not before he took a glance at Elena's peaceful slumber. The warm flickering lamplight settles across her skin, making her red hair glow like flames.
He held his breath for only a moment before turning back and jumping into the shadows.
He landed quietly as he leaned against the pillar that helped support the balcony. His ears twitching listening to the quiet scratches of metal against metal of the guard's armor. That regularly patrolled the Halas manor.
When the coast was clear, he rushed into the forest, reached the wall, and climbed over it with silent ease.
~~~~~
Audrey groaned in frustration. "Damnit, why do you have to be so good at this?" she yelled, shoving back from the table and nearly flipping the board. The pieces scattered as Shawn cackled, already scooping up the last of the gold coins he'd won.
"Hey," he said, flicking one of the coins into the air with his thumb, "I may be a priest, but I'm also a warrior."
"Fuck you."
Shawn laughed again as he reset the board, aligning the pieces with infuriating calm. "Another round?" he asked, brow quirking.
"No, you cheating dwarf," Audrey snapped, pointing at him, her hand shaking with irritation.
Shawn's blue eyes narrowed. "I ain't a fucking dwarf," he said coldly, slapping her finger aside.
"Then why do you talk like one and look like one, you short stock?" she shot back, giggling.
He growled as he stood, barely reaching her chest. "Do you see a third eye on me forehead?" he snarled through clenched teeth.
Audrey grinned. "See? You sound like one when you're pissed."
Shawn threw his hands up, muttering curses under his breath.
Still amused, Audrey turned away and walked to the glass wall overlooking the Undercity. From here, the city pulsed with life—layers of movement, lights, and smoke weaving together beneath her bronze eye. Then one plume caught her attention, darker and thicker than the rest, rising near the border between Lockvry and Malanor territory.
She sighed. "Another skirmish," she said, crossing her arms. "Not sure over what." Her gaze lingered on the smoke, already dreading the paperwork it would bring.
"Should I send Vantim?" she asked, glancing back at Shawn as he packed away the board.
"Sure," he said. "You could also send Salvie—just in case anyone's badly hurt."
Audrey frowned. "That'd be pushing my limit… I can't protect the Lord if I send two summons." Her eyes returned to the plume, which was still growing.
Shawn sighed. "Audrey, the old man'll be fine. I mean—who's dumb enough to try anything? Besides, you've got Dan and me." He added a chuckle as he walked up next to her.
Audrey cut him a sidelong look. "Merchant?" she asked mildly.
Shawn stiffened, gaze snapping away. "He was a… special case."
A quiet laugh slipped from Audrey as she stretched her arms outward, palms bare to the air. The ink threaded through her skin—old sigils etched into muscle—began to stir. Lines darkened, then burned, their blackness drinking in the light as a cold mist bled from them, coiling around her wrists and shoulders like breath from a tomb.
Her voice dropped, losing its modern cadence, each syllable weighed and deliberate.
"Valgo… mo vi."
The mist shuddered.
It folded inward, thickening, pulled tight by unseen hands until feathers tore themselves free from shadow. A bird emerged—not born, but remembered—its form cut from night itself. Its wings beat soundlessly, scattering wisps of darkness as it hovered, head tilting with predatory intent. Where its eyes should have been burned, two pale lights, stark white and unblinking, like moons reflected on still water.
Audrey did not look at it. Her focus had already shifted, her tattoos flaring brighter as the mist pooled again at her feet.
"Helmis… ho vooris."
This time, the shadows crawled upward, knotting and writhing before snapping into shape. A small, hunched creature unfolded itself from the dark, limbs too long, movements too precise. It resembled a monkey only in silhouette, its body cloaked in pitch-black fur that swallowed light, except along its edges, where veins of luminous green traced its outline like living runes. The glow pulsed faintly, as though something ancient breathed beneath its skin.
It lifted its head.
Emerald eyes opened—sharp, knowing, far too intelligent—and locked onto Audrey with unwavering devotion.
She smiled.
Vantim cawed softly as Salvie darted forward, wrapping its arms around her leg. Audrey felt the strange pressure of the embrace—not solid, yet undeniable—like walking through mist so dense it pushed back.
"Vantim. Salvie," she said calmly. "Check the plume. Tell me what's going on. Salvie, heal our people if anyone's gravely injured."
Salvie nodded. Vantim cawed again. Together, they rushed down the hall, slipping past the cloaked figures who stood motionless as ever, and disappeared through the doors toward the distant clash.
Shawn watched them go, then shook his head. "Archaic magic," he muttered, glancing at the runes etched into the small stone tablets hanging from Audrey's belt. "It's certainly weird."
Audrey scoffed. "Archaic is just nature. Holy magic's artificial, handed out by some god." She rolled her eye.
Shawn snorted. "Yeah. Summoning beasts out of ink. Real natural."
His voice was flat, but his eyes lingered on the smoke a second longer than before.
A moment of easy silence stretched as the two watched the Undercity thrive, but it was broken by Shawn asking a question.
"When do you think he's getting back? It's been what, five hours now?"
Audrey frowned in thought and at the broken silence.
"Saw him before he left… Didn't mention where he was going, though, now that I think of it," She grumbled.
Shawn chuckled, "Well, he is a shadow mage; disappearing is practically his job."
Audrey sighed with some frustration, "He's a fool." Shawn nodded along.
"Yet he's the fool that got us through that cave-in?" He added quietly, glancing at her.
Audrey sighed once more, "I'm gonna check on Val, see if she's still asleep."
Shawn smirked as he stood in front of the glass wall, watching the plume of smoke still rising.
Silence settled over him as his thoughts drifted back to the cave-in—the moment they'd all thought they were dead. Until Jake, the bastard, tore them out at the last second by unlocking his teleport.
Shawn snorted softly at the memory.
"What are you laughing about?"
He turned.
Jake stood there, dusted with dirt, a fresh scratch cutting across his cheek.
"There's the bastard," Shawn said brightly.
Jake smirked—and before Jake could brace himself, the dwarf was already there, quick despite his shorter build, pulling him into a rough, brotherly hug.
"What the hell happened to you?" Shawn said through a wide grin.
Jake coughed, slapping Shawn's shoulder. "Can't breathe," he managed to squeeze out. Shawn laughed before letting go of him.
"So what happened to make you covered in dirt?" Shawn said, still with a wide grin.
Jake nervously chuckled, scratching his chin, "Went out in the caves to let off steam, some Gormors surprised me, but handled them." He lied.
"Gormors?" Shawn muttered, his smile slightly faltering, "Haven't seen those bastards in a while."
Jake nodded, rubbing the scratch on his cheek, where he used his knife to cut himself.
"How many?" Shawn said, covering his mouth in thought. While studying his friend.
Jake let out a long breath, "Five, but wasn't able to kill the fifth one," he murmured, "Maybe there's a nest in the area,"
Shawn frowned, "That's… bad, gonna have to tell the Adventure guild, and they could post a notice," he said while looking out the glass wall.
Jake nodded along; he didn't lie about the Gormors' nest, though. He knew one was brewing and would have to be dealt with sooner or later. He and Elena did discover it on their last adventure and dealt with half of them just in case.
Then a plume of smoke caught his attention, "Skirmish?" He asked, walking next to Shawn.
"Yeah, Audrey sent Vantim and Salvie already to check it out," Shawn said, focusing on the smoke.
"Good."
The word landed softly.
Jake's blood went cold.
He froze mid-breath, muscles locking as instinct screamed a warning he didn't need explained. Slowly—too slowly—he turned.
The man standing behind them wore control like a second skin.
His brown hair was neatly combed, every strand in place, interrupted only by a pair of fluffy wolf ears poking cleanly through, well-groomed, alert, and unmistakably real. A matching tail rested behind him, still and composed, as though even it knew better than to move without permission.
He wore a tailored black suit that caught the light in subtle flashes. Scattered across the dark fabric were inlaid red gems, small, glistening flecks embedded like drops of frozen blood. They weren't decorative in excess; they were deliberate. Intentional.
Jake met his gaze.
Gold eyes locked with something far worse.
The man's eyes were a uniform, pupil-less red—no iris, no white—just a smooth, depthless crimson that reflected nothing and revealed even less. They didn't glow. They didn't flicker.
They simply watched.
Then they looked away, as if he were staring at the sun.
"Been looking for you, son."