“What are you doing?”

  Neveah stepped out of her room, dressed formally, her hair styled back with two braids woven through with small myrtle flowers.

  “Dancing.” Hadassah replied, twirling in the centre of the courtyard with an unsheathed sword. It was barely daylight, yet she was already fully dressed in her usual training clothes, worn and faded over the last six months.

  “Yes, but…why?”

  “It’s fun.”

  Neveah didn’t try to understand the girl’s whims, instead observing the way Hadassah danced with the sword. It was Verena’s, the blade catching the dawn light with a bluish shine. Runes were engraved down the centre, giving it a permanent glow. The tassels had been replaced with blue thread, and the hilt was wrapped in blue and gold, unlike the Vortigern red.

  As Neveah’s gaze travelled over Hadassah’s attire—old boots, worn leather, a rough shirt, and a simple hoist—a frown settled on her face. She looked more like a common mercenary than anything else.

  “Is that what you’re wearing for the expedition?” Neveah asked with deep concern.

  “Yes,” Hadassah replied, sheathing the sword with satisfaction. It was indeed a beautiful sword, one she was proud of. But when she caught Neveah’s expression, she felt self-conscious. “Does it not hold up to decorum?”

  “No, it’s just ugly. I thought you’d have something better.”

  “Oh.” Hadassah glanced down at her clothes. “So, where should I get something better?”

  “You have Kaladin’s token, don’t you?”

  Hadassah nodded, though she only used it for essentials.

  “Then bring it. I have some time—let’s go.”

  Neveah led Hadassah into a high-end shop nestled on one of the city’s main avenues; its windows were portals to a world of vibrant cotton, rich furs, and delicate brocade.

  Neveah was clearly familiar with the place; her hand ran along the fabrics as if she knew exactly what she wanted. Before Hadassah could protest, a shop assistant had already approached, and Neveah requested several outfits to be brought for her.

  “This place is a bit much,” Hadassah whispered; she did not mind spending Kaladin’s shells, but she still had some shame.

  “Nonsense. Kaladin left you his token, didn’t he?” Neveah replied breezily, picking up a fine blue velvet coat with pretty Vermillion birds embroidered on the collar. She held it against Hadassah’s shoulders, nodding in approval.

  “He probably didn’t mean for me to spend all of it,” Hadassah murmured.

  Neveah scoffed, barely sparing the tags a glance. “Trust me, he has no need for it. Besides,” she added with a smirk, “you need to look the part. You’re going on an expedition, not sneaking off to fight common beasts.”

  Hadassah did not understand what the difference was; they would still slaughter and fight; did she just want her to potentially die in prettier clothes?

  Neveah selected several more outfits.

  “These,” Neveah declared, holding up a set of supple leather boots. “Much better than those beat-up things you’ve been wearing. And look,” she added, pointing out the clever buckles and sturdy soles, “practical too.”

  ‘Of course they’re practical; they’re boots.’ Hadassah held her tongue and tried on anything Neveah brought out for her.

  Once she was done, Hadassah found herself looking like a princess of Orlaith. Her plain shirt had been replaced with a rich blue tunic featuring a stiff, high collar. Gold edges traced down from the collar all the way down the middle and around, embroidered with fine gold thread. Across the back, a pair of finely stitched wings that seemed to change hues with the light.

  “Why the wings?” she asked, turning slightly to inspect the design.

  Neveah’s smile was soft. “It’s the emblem of the Orlaith royal family. I come here often, so they’ve got a few things with it on hand.”

  Hadassah took another look at herself and, despite her initial reluctance, had to admit she felt different. Powerful, even.

  “I can visit you, right?” she asked suddenly.

  “In Orlaith?” Neveah turned to her, a flicker of surprise in her gaze.

  Hadassah nodded, catching the girl’s eyes in the mirror. “I’d like to think we’d see each other again.” She would like to think they were friends even, but she knew they were too different to ever be truly close.

  Neveah smiled, though something seemed to shift in her gaze, as though she could see past Hadassah’s words to a future only she could know. “If the heavens allow, I will meet you again. And hopefully, we’ll be fighting on the same side.”

  “Fighting?” Hadassah began to ask, but before she could press further, Neveah had stepped away, calling for the attendant to begin packing the remaining clothes.

  The air between them held a touch of foreboding, but Hadassah kept quiet, giving herself one last look in the mirror as if to memorise this image of herself as if this would be the last time she saw her own face.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  By the time Hadassah returned, her belongings were already being taken to the Vortigern tree to prepare for the expedition’s formal procession. People in the inn stepped out to watch the bustling work; the entire beast city was awake and thrumming with excitement. Rahn emerged from his room, dressed impeccably in a matching blue tunic that complemented hers. He looked quite handsome, especially with the fresh haircut she’d given him. Hadassah glanced towards Neveah, who met her gaze with a warm, knowing smile. Gratitude swelled in her chest, and she mouthed a “Thank you.” Despite Neveah’s cold words at times, her actions spoke volumes.

  With everyone assembled, they headed to the Vortigern tree. The rest of the procession awaited them. Of the fifty youths originally signed up for training under Kaladin, only ten had been selected for the expedition; the others, though surviving, were deemed unready for such a perilous journey.

  Hadassah spotted Verena and handed her the newly-augmented sword, its flawless blue hilt wrapped in a subtle glittering finish.

  “I hope this blade is to your liking,” Hadassah said, offering it to her.

  Verena stared at the sword, awed by its elegance. Her weapon did not pale in comparison to Drucilla’s glaive, a prized gift from the Dragon Queen herself.

  “This sword is exquisite.”

  Hadassah smiled. “I’m glad. I don’t plan to make another like it for a while; it suits you perfectly—you’ll see.”

  Verena’s expression faltered briefly, hiding her internal conflict as she watched Hadassah mount her horse.

  Once ready, Drucilla led her horse to the forefront of the procession, where Neveah waited. “Seer, grant your blessing to this expedition.”

  Hadassah watched with keen interest; it was her first time witnessing Neveah using anything beyond her foresight. Drucilla respectfully approached, lowering herself to one knee and extending her glaive. Her black silver armour gave her the appearance of a warrior kneeling before a princess, despite both women sharing royal blood.

  Neveah took the glaive and held it upright, her hands wrapping around it as she entered a state of deep concentration. Her eyes glowed, a radiant golden hue like ambrosia, and an intense light radiated from her, blinding most of her form entirely. Her white hair rose as if electrified, and, from nowhere, wings of light unfurled from her back. The crowd fell silent, captivated, as if standing in the presence of a divine being.

  Hadassah’s mouth dropped open in awe. Her father had once told her that a Seer was the closest thing to an angel she’d ever encounter in this world. At the time, she couldn’t imagine what that meant, but now, she understood. Neveah’s beauty wasn’t just heavenly; her very existence felt like a gift, of all the tragic beings created in this world, she was one made with love.

  Lifting her gaze, Neveah called upon the heavens to guide and protect them.

  “I beg you,” she spoke softly, as tears of gold slipped from her eyes, though she seemed not to cry. “Protect them on their journey.”

  Her voice was not loud, nor were her words poetic; it was a simple plea for protection. In response, the sky brightened, and stars descended from the heavens, beams of light enveloping the group.

  Hadassah looked down at her hands, watching as they shimmered before her, her form flickering in and out of focus like a mirage. When Neveah’s hair finally settled, the glow faded, but her wings of light remained. She addressed the gathering with a gentle smile.

  “The heavens are with you.”

  A cheer erupted from the group, their spirits soaring. Each member of the expedition stood a little taller, emboldened by her blessing. Hadassah wasn’t sure if any of this would provide real protection, but the courage it inspired was undeniable.

  Drucilla rose from her kneeling position, a smirk on her face as she locked eyes with Neveah. “Till we meet again.”

  For centuries, the royal families of Orlaith and Nephel, had raised their children side by side. Meeting again was simply inevitable.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Neveah inclined her head with a faint nod, her gaze shifting to Kaladin, who offered a reassuring smile. As the procession began to move, Neveah remained at the forefront, the horses and carriages parting to pass her. Hadassah’s horse passed as well, but Neveah wasn’t looking at her, nor at Kaladin or Zarek; her gaze was distant, her expression blank.

  When the last of the procession moved through the crowded streets, vanishing into the blinding sunlight, Neveah’s composure finally broke. Normal tears welled in her eyes, and she quietly dropped to her knees. By chance, Hadassah glanced back, her attention caught by the sight. In the six months she’d known Neveah, she’d never seen her bow, never seen her on her knees.

  To Hadassah, Neveah was beyond mortal vulnerabilities, yet here she was, lowering herself solemnly. She pressed her forehead to the ground three times. Hadassah turned to Kaladin; he wasn’t looking back, nor was he looking forward. His eyes were fixed on his hands, clenched so tightly around the reins that they trembled. He was shaking, and he refused to look back.

  Neveah raised her head, her silent goodbye to the one who had been her steadfast companion for thirty-six years.

  “Thank you, for everything.” She bowed her head once more, her farewell hidden from the crowd but held close in her heart.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  Three days into the journey, Hadassah was already feeling the toll. The relentless pace, long hours in the saddle, and rough terrain had left her body aching in places she hadn’t known could ache. Each night, she would collapse in her tent, too tired to move, her legs sore and stiff. Her routine withdrawal hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Rahn’s troubled gaze often followed her as if concerned she was slowly wasting away from all the horse riding.

  Tonight, determined not to worry him further, Hadassah pushed herself to leave the confines of her tent. Her legs protested with each step as she awkwardly moved around the camp, stretching out the stiffness. Soldiers nodded to her as she passed, some smiling in recognition of her struggle. It was humiliating, but she was grateful they did not laugh at her anguish.

  She sensed Rahn’s presence before she saw him; he seemed pleased to see her moving around tonight. Without a word, he gently guided her to a small fire and brought over her food rations. As she looked down at the vegetables in her bowl, her appetite waned.

  “You don’t want to eat?” Verena’s voice broke her thoughts as she sat down before them. Hadassah was a bit surprised to see her, though she supposed Verena might feel out of place among the other beastmen.

  “Where’s Zeus?” Hadassah asked casually.

  “Why are you asking me?” Verena retorted.

  “I don’t know, I figured you’d know.”

  “… He’s in the strategy tent with Kaladin and Drucilla,” Verena finally replied, her expression sour as Hadassah burst out laughing. Verena had hoped for some peace, only to be met with Hadassah’s merciless laughter.

  “You’ve laughed enough. Just eat your food,” she spat, though a small grin betrayed her.

  Hadassah set her bowl on the ground. “I don’t know if I can stomach any more vegetables.”

  “Really? Why? This isn’t so bad,” Verena commented, raising a brow.

  “Do you even know what meat tastes like?”

  Verena shook her head, uncertain. “Is it that special?”

  Hadassah nodded enthusiastically. “I want to go hunt some rabbits.”

  Verena raised an eyebrow, amused and somewhat scandalised by the bold suggestion to hunt common rabbits in front of a rabbit beastman. “Just make sure no one sees you,” she warned.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Hadassah insisted, taking Verena’s hand, and before long, Verena found herself being dragged away from her seat.

  The hardest part of sneaking away to cook was finding a pot and the right spices. Verena, slightly apprehensive, agreed to handle the task, muttering that she had no business skulking around camp like a common thief. Still, she slipped off towards the makeshift kitchen, moving cautiously until she spotted the large pot she needed. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she scooped it up and then quietly reached for a small pouch of spices. Just as she thought she’d succeeded, a voice behind her made her freeze.

  “Lady Verena?” The chef, a stout beastman with his arms crossed, looked bewildered to find her here, of all places, stealing spices.

  Verena’s face turned crimson, and without a word, she bolted, pot and spices clutched to her chest as she dashed out of sight. Hadassah, watching from the shadows, burst into uncontrollable laughter as Verena skidded to a stop beside with a shameful expression on her face.

  “Did he see you?” Hadassah managed between laughs.

  Verena huffed, catching her breath, and shot Hadassah a glare that held more embarrassment than anger. Hadassah knew she’d been caught but decided to ask anyway. “Hateful girl,” she muttered, a hint of a smile creeping onto her face as she glanced down, still clutching the contraband pot and spices “this better be worth it.”

  With their supplies secured, they slipped quietly out of camp. Rahn took on the task of hunting rabbits, just like the good old days. Together, they set up a small fire in a secluded spot, and the scent of braised rabbit filled the air. Hadassah had insisted Rahn hunt four rabbits, and from the way he was eyeing the pot, she could tell he’d likely eat three himself.

  It brought back fond memories; it had been a long time since she’d cooked for the both of them like this.

  “Eat up,” she said as she served them.

  This time, Rahn knew better than to burn himself, aware of the trouble it would cause Hadassah if he got hurt. Meanwhile, Verena was tasting meat for the first time, and as she took her first bite, her mind exploded.

  Hadassah could see it in her face—the blissful expression of savouring good meat—and she felt accomplished, as if she had convinced someone from the enemy lines to join her side in a war.

  Verena ate so quickly and then requested another serving. “How have I lived before this?”

  Hadassah let her ego swell a bit, turning her nose up as she served Verena another bowl.

  “Are you kidding? You guys are eating meat out here!”

  Zarek’s voice startled Hadassah, and she spun around to see him grabbing a bowl and stretching out his hands. “How are you all enjoying this out here by yourselves? My muscles have shrivelled up from lack of sustenance—please, meat!”

  Hadassah’s smile widened as she gladly served him. “I thought you all were perfectly fine with the vegetables.”

  Zarek scoffed as he dug in. “I’m a carnivore! Why would I be fine with that?”

  Hadassah smirked, setting up the next batch with a dramatic flair. “Hoho! The one who can cook holds all the power. From now on, if you want food, you have to pay with jewellery!”

  “No problem,” Verena said promptly, not missing a beat.

  “That’s not fair! Where am I supposed to get jewellery?” Zarek protested, clearly finding the terms biased. Verena, meanwhile, smirked at him, as if his lack of jewellery was pitiful.

  “Then don’t eat. I’ll eat in your place,” she replied smugly. Zarek grit his teeth, unwilling to lose his meals over such a trivial requirement.

  He looked from Rahn to Hadassah. “Why doesn’t he have to pay up?”

  Rahn scoffed clearly above Zarek’s antics. He knew he didn’t need to pay—he was closer to Hadassah than any of them.

  But Hadassah raised an eyebrow, pretending to reconsider. “You know what, Zarek’s right. Rahn, you too—jewellery.”

  Rahn felt as if lightning had struck him and turned to glare at Zarek, who grinned with pure schadenfreude.

  Meanwhile, Verena quietly faded into the background, but she didn’t mind. These people were so carefree; it stunned her. No one judged her for her birth, nor did anyone care about her past actions.

  This kind of life… it wasn’t so bad.

  “I love the arguing, but can you quiet down for a moment?” Hadassah muttered, wrinkling her nose. “Is there a stream nearby? I can’t go back with my clothes smelling like rabbit.”

  The grasslands were watered by a network of small streams, one of which lay only an hour’s walk from their camp. As soon as Hadassah spotted it, she shed her outer robes and jumped in. Without hesitation, the others followed, slipping into the cool, refreshing water to wash away the scent of their little cooking adventure.

  “When I was little, I used to play in the rivers of Valdemar,” Hadassah said, splashing some water at Zarek. “I nearly drowned so many times it’s not even funny. So, I’d like to think I have an affinity for water.”

  “Oh, really?” Zarek replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Have you played Toppler?”

  “Toppler?” Hadassah echoed, curious.

  “The girls get on our shoulders,” Zarek explained, placing a hand on Rahn’s shoulder, “and the first team to be toppled over loses.”

  “Really? That sounds too easy,” Hadassah replied, a cocky smirk on her face.

  Zarek raised a brow, his competitive streak matching hers. “You think you can topple me?”

  Hadassah knew there was no way she could bring down a wall of muscle like him, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “Of course. Verena and you versus Rahn and me—we’ll obviously win!”

  Verena looked at both of them like they were crazy, but with some persuasion, she reluctantly climbed onto Zarek’s shoulders, clinging to his neck as if afraid to fall.

  “Calm down; you won’t fall. I won’t let you,” Zarek reassured her, steadying himself in the water. Meanwhile, Hadassah sat confidently on Rahn’s shoulders, her competitive fire blazing.

  “You two are going down!” she declared, pointing dramatically at them and with a grin, she gave the first push.

  As the game began, Verena started off cautiously, her grip tight around Zarek’s neck, but with each push she gained confidence. Soon, she was leaning forward, adding more weight to each shove. Hadassah, meanwhile, felt herself wobbling slightly, Rahn doing his best to keep them steady as Verena’s newfound vigour had them inching closer to defeat.

  ‘Rahn, use your shadows!’

  She had not him allowed in six months to use his abilities, so he was more than happy to comply.

  With a subtle nod, Rahn shifted his focus, and under the surface, hidden among the pebbles, shadows began to stretch and slither forward. They reached Zarek’s legs, wrapping around his ankles. At first, Zarek didn’t notice, but as the shadows began to tug, he felt his footing become unstable.

  “Hey—what the—!” Zarek sputtered as he felt the pull, his balance faltering. Despite his efforts to hold steady, he wobbled, and with a final, comical flail of his arms, he and Verena toppled over with a loud shriek.

  Hadassah raised her arms in victory, cheering as Verena surfaced, coughing and laughing. Zarek, however, emerged looking less amused, glaring at Hadassah as he wiped the water from his face.

  “You two cheated!” he accused, pointing an accusing finger. “There’s no way you toppled me that easily.”

  Hadassah put on her best innocent face, hands raised defensively. “Cheated? Us? Never! Maybe you just underestimated us.”

  Zarek narrowed his eyes suspiciously, glancing between Hadassah and Rahn, who stood quietly with a faintly smug expression. “I don’t know… Something doesn’t add up,” he grumbled, though a grin eventually crept onto his face, unable to stay mad.

  “Believe what you want, but a win’s a win.”

  Eventually, they dragged their tired bodies out of the stream and started another fire to dry off. Hadassah washed her clothes, hanging them on a makeshift stick rack, and waited for them to dry at least partially.

  “If Neveah were here, I wonder what kind of face she’d make seeing us like this,” she mused, thinking back to the beast city.

  “She’d probably give us a disapproving look and then try to boil some tea,” Zarek laughed.

  Hadassah was quiet. “Is she going back to become Queen of Orlaith?”

  Zarek nodded.

  “You didn’t know?” Verena asked, glancing over.

  Hadassah shook her head.

  “Neveah has been travelling the continent since she was fourteen. People say she ran away from Orlaith.”

  This was news to Hadassah. “Why? What happened?” She turned to Zarek, hoping for an explanation, but he remained silent, his gaze averted.

  “She… she killed her own mother. Matricide.”

  Hadassah felt a shiver run through her. “What?”

  Verena looked uneasy. “The reason she left is that if she were to sit on the throne again, she would have to face punishment from the heavens for her sins.

  Hadassah didn’t know what to say.

  Punishment?

  “You must be joking—how do the heavens even know what people have done?”

  “Usually, they don’t,” Zarek replied, “but with Seers… they have immense abilities, and if they interfere with people’s fates, they face consequences. In times of war, most Seers use their powers only at a crucial moment, but afterward, they have to endure tribulation.”

  Hadassah thought of the Rune scripts. If no fatal error was made, the heavens turned a blind eye.

  “Wait, so if she’s going back, won’t she have to face her tribulation?”

  Zarek nodded solemnly. “Yes, that’s right.”

  Hadassah recalled the lightning she herself had faced, and wondered just what Neveah’s punishment might be.

  “If I were her, I’d never return to Orlaith,” Verena finally said, breaking the silence.

  Hadassah remained quiet, understanding to some extent. If it had been her, perhaps she would have done the same and run away. Her eyes drifted up, and she saw Rahn’s head nodding off; it was time to return.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  “Well, you were busy,” Kaladin remarked as they returned to camp. He eyed Hadassah’s damp clothes with a raised brow. “Swimming?”

  “You’re just jealous you didn’t join us,” Zarek quipped, brushing past him. Verena gave a small nod of acknowledgement, bowing her head slightly.

  “I better get going,” she said to Hadassah, feeling she’d probably overstayed her welcome this time.

  “Why?” Hadassah asked, a playful smile on her face. “You should come and stay for a while; it’s not too late yet.”

  Verena froze, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected the offer and was surprised by how much it warmed her. Hadassah noticed her hesitation and paused. “You don’t have to, of course.”

  Verena knew she should politely decline, but a small part of her—a part she’d kept hidden—wanted to go with them. Before she could overthink it, she nodded. “Alright.”