Klen: "It's fine—the inn's close by..."

  Rose stopped and turned. "No. Go. Wash up. I'm sure you're covered in wounds. We'll meet tomorrow?"

  Klen hesitated, then continued walking, passing Jerry's Cut.

  Rose called after him. "Wait—where are you going?"

  Klen: "The Red Knight completes his duty to the letter!"

  Rose scoffed and smiled. "You foolish knight..."

  They reached the Inn of the Daisy.

  Klen: "See you tomorrow, Miss Rose. May noble, honorable, glorious dreams visit you tonight!"

  Rose watched him with a wary look, smiled, then turned and opened the inn door. She paused.

  "Klen."

  He stopped.

  Rose touched his hand from behind. "Thank you."

  She pressed a small bundle of herbs into his palm. "Take this. Steep it in hot water and drink it warm. It will ease the pain."

  Klen opened his mouth to speak, but Rose slipped inside and closed the door quickly.

  He stood on the threshold, wanting to say more—then she was gone.

  ---

  Inside the Inn

  Inside the Inn of the Daisy, Fadi and the other patrons looked up in surprise. Guests and travelers paused mid-meal to watch Rose's abrupt entrance.

  Fadi moved among the tables, serving the guards at reduced prices to help with the city's repairs. He noticed Rose's haste and concern.

  Fadi: "Miss Rose? Are you all right? Do you have a fever?"

  Rose, breathless, slammed the door shut behind her and gripped its frame. "Is the inn closed?"

  She startled, then hurried to Fadi. "A fever? No—no. I'm fine!"

  Fadi studied her with suspicion. "Really?"

  Rose forced a smile. "Good evening. I'll see you later."

  She hurried upstairs.

  An old man at the bar raised his cup and called out, "If only youth would return!"

  Fadi wiped a cup and smiled quietly to himself. "That's a good wish..."

  ---

  interlude

  The Circus of Red Cloaks

  Snow bit at the air; Leona's cold wrapped the streets in a hard, metallic hush.

  Lamis and Shadi moved toward the circus, boots crunching on frost. Lamis froze at a sound—an animal cry warped by something wrong.

  Lamis: "Shadi... something's wrong here."

  Shadi shook his head. "It sounds like the village when the sickness first took hold. Could it have reached them too?"

  Lamis stepped back. "This is a bad idea."

  Shadi: "We have to know. Maybe we can help."

  Lamis: "Or make it worse."

  They advanced. Figures in red cloaks emerged from the tents—faces hidden beneath veils. One stepped forward with a theatrical bow.

  Red Cloak: "Welcome, travelers. Care for acrobatic delights? Entertainment and merriment?"

  Lamis's voice cut like a blade. "Merriment? While the plague devours the kingdom? Are you mad?"

  A murmur ran through the cloaked circle. One voice, low and amused, answered.

  Red Cloak: "She's ill... we'll end her life."

  They turned to Shadi, smiling beneath their veils.

  Red Cloak: "You're suitable... a talking beast? A rare commodity."

  Shadi stumbled back.

  Lamis: "Shadi! Fall back!"

  He did—then a net flew from the shadows and wrapped him. He fought the mesh, tearing at the ropes with raw strength.

  Shadi: "Run! Get out of here!"

  The cloaked men watched Lamis retreat. One asked, almost bored, "Will you bring reinforcements?"

  Another answered, cold: "No. This kingdom is stricken. They won't come. They need help, not to give it."

  Lamis fled, unarmed, heart pounding. "Damn—these are on another level. I didn't even see him come up behind Shadi. How fast—?"

  She ran until the trees swallowed the circus lights, then collapsed against a trunk, lungs burning.

  A green light split the sky. The green comet pulsed, fierce and alive.

  Lamis: "That... is strange. What's happening?"

  Back at the tents, Shadi screamed, hands clamped over his ears. The cloaked men closed in, circling like predators.

  One drew a blade. "I'll unsheathe my sword if he threatens our prized beasts. I'll kill him."

  Shadi's scream rose, raw and animal. His form convulsed—then, as suddenly, he steadied. Breath came deep and even. The change was complete; the monster's rage receded, leaving the boy himself, panting.

  A cloaked man spat in frustration. "Damn—this stupid child healed the beast. We've lost a rare commodity."

  The Red-Cloaked Market

  One of them leaned in, voice low and greedy. "Look at his body—those marks on his hands. We can make use of them. If he's no good in the show, we'll sell him. I'm sure someone will want a pet like that."

  Another scoffed. "A pet? Are you joking? He needs a lot of taming. It'll be hard work."

  Snow and wind shifted without warning. The ice thinned and thickened in an unstable breath; the green comet above flared and dimmed in quick, violent pulses.

  Lamis hurried through the drift until she saw a wooden cart preparing to leave.

  Lamis: "You—please, stop!"

  An old man climbed down from the cart and looked her over, eyes sharp. He took in her torn clothes and the blood on her sleeves.

  Old Man: "Who are you? How did you get here? A thief, or a runaway?"

  Lamis: "I ran from the sickness that ravaged the city. Please—take me away. I promised my family I wouldn't die."

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  He studied her, then sighed. "All right."

  Old Man: "I'm Vitals. What's your name, girl?"

  Lamis, breathless: "I'm Lamis. Lamis."

  Vitals: "Are you alone?"

  Her mind flashed to Shadi. Her voice came out thin and strange. "Yes. I'm alone."

  Vitals opened the cart door. "We're bound for Aurik. It's a long ride, but we'll get there fast. Once we cross into the kingdom, the roads are linked, and the snow falls lighter."

  Lamis shook her head. "Aurik? Wait—does that mean..."

  She stared at the road that led back toward Leona. Her face changed—grief and a quiet resolve.

  Vitals watched her, surprised. "What is it? Have you decided to stay?"

  Tears slid slowly down her cheeks. "No. My family... they're gone. They protected me there. I only want to say goodbye."

  Vitals climbed back into the cart. "Get in."

  She climbed aboard. The cart rolled away. Vitals cracked the reins; the horses surged. Snow hammered down, then stilled when the comet flared, then returned in a white roar.

  Vitals spoke as they rode, voice soft with memory. "I had a family once—happy. A wild wife, children who adored their parents, a girl who tested every rule."

  Lamis listened. "That's... beautiful. Where are they now?"

  Vitals did not answer. He urged the horses on; his hands trembled as he held the reins.

  Lamis stared at him, stunned.

  Vitals: "We were wanderers. We camped in many places—among the glowing-tree tribes, in the abandoned mountains of Lenovard, in places that no longer answer."

  Lamis: "So you've seen the whole world."

  He laughed, low and bitter. "Seen what's left of it. That's a dangerous boast—'we've seen the whole world.'"

  Vitals: "We've seen what remains."

  Lamis frowned. "What do you mean?"

  Vitals pointed to the road behind them. "Look at your hometown. Leona has fallen."

  Lamis: "That's not true. People are fighting. I saw them."

  Vitals: "Is that so?"

  They passed ruined villages and empty hamlets—scenes of ruin that were both mournful and terrifying.

  Vitals: "Lenovard was wiped out. The last time I came, it was gone—erased. Leonithra is a den of pirates and chaos now."

  Lamis watched the ruined settlements slide past the cart window and said nothing.

  Vitals: "All that remains—Aurik. My family and I heard of one safe place: the Ember Kingdom. My son dreamed of it."

  Lamis: "I'm sorry."

  Vitals: "We've all suffered. I only hope you find the final peace when we reach Aurik."

  Lamis: Final?

  A Quiet Village under the Comet

  Snow eased to a hush as the green comet flared above; its light steadied the storm and the villagers returned, for a moment, to ordinary rhythms.

  Vitals walked slowly to a wooden bench and sat, watching Lamis's sullen face. He produced a handful of small red balls and began to juggle in a wide, easy circle. Dogs trotted around him; children gathered, clapping and laughing.

  Lamis stared, incredulous. "You? Are you serious?"

  Vitals kept juggling, calm as a man who had practiced this for years. "Serious? Why not? Look—people are smiling."

  She watched the children, their applause bright against the cold.

  "Come on," Vitals said, smiling. "Show me what you can do."

  Lamis trembled. The children watched her with wide eyes. She drew a breath and began to spin a wooden staff with surprising grace—simple twirls and controlled flourishes that turned into a small, deft routine. The children cheered and leapt around her.

  She blinked, surprised, and a grin broke across her face. A pack of dogs circled closer and one slipped, tumbling in a flurry of paws and snow.

  "Ow—my back!" she cried, half-laughing.

  The villagers smiled. The children's laughter filled the square.

  Vitals gathered the coins they'd earned, his face soft with satisfaction. They climbed into the cart; the children waved until the cart rolled away.

  As he guided the horses, reins in hand, Vitals spoke quietly to Lamis.

  "Girl," he said.

  She looked at him.

  "You must learn to make joy," he told her. "Use every moment you have, even the hardest ones. That's how you survive."

  He paused, eyes on the road. "I lost my family, but I make others smile. Those small moments—those simple things—change lives. That's what I learned."

  Lamis listened, surprised and thoughtful

  As they get far a way as they entering paths that cross few abandon villages.

  He glanced back, sensing movement behind them.

  Vitals: "Lamis?"

  Lamis: "Yes? Is something wrong?"

  Vitals: "Can you fight?" I saw you waving the stick in good steady way..

  Lamis: "Yes. My father taught me the Leona fighting style."

  Vitals nodded and pointed to a hidden hatch beneath the cart. "There's a wooden compartment below. Open it."

  She found blades—simple, serviceable swords—laid out like tools for survival.

  Lamis: "There are many swords."

  Vitals: "Take the one that fits. You'll need it."

  He lashed the horses harder. His hands glowed faintly as he touched the wheel, and the cart's wheels spun faster, the animals straining as the cart surged forward.

  —-

  Outside the circus tents, Shadi woke bound in chains, his body mangled but his mind returned. He saw a red-veiled girl bring food and drop it into his cell. He prepared to break free, but a strange calm held him.

  He smashed the chains with a practiced, furious motion and lunged at the girl. She spoke without alarm, voice flat and businesslike: "Eat. Stop the trouble if you want to live another day."

  The Red-Veiled Girl and the Returning Humanity

  Shadi froze, hand outstretched toward the veiled girl. Her palms shimmered with a strange magic—lightning coiling between her fingers like a living thing.

  He recoiled, fear tightening his shoulders, and took a step back.

  The girl's voice was flat, almost bored. "Good. You're the only one who can still speak. The rest are beasts without words—or humans who forgot speech under torture. All that's left for them are tricks."

  Shadi's eyes dropped to the food she'd left. She ate a little, watched him, then melted back into the dark like a shadow.

  He ate slowly, suspicion and hunger warring on his face.

  As the girl vanished, Shadi stared at his hands and body. Recovery came in odd, uneven waves—breath returning, color creeping back into his skin, a strange, reluctant healing.

  ---

  The Outskirts of Leona

  At the border of Leona, Vitals slammed the cart to a halt. Lamis looked up, alarmed.

  Vitals leapt down, sword in hand. Before him, villagers—once human—staggered forward in grotesque shapes: blood smeared across torn clothes, saliva foaming at their mouths, eyes glassy with infection.

  Vitals: "Damn—there are too many."

  Lamis slid from the cart, sword ready.

  Vitals opened a hidden compartment and released trained hunting dogs.

  Lamis: "Dogs? What is this?"

  Vitals, smiling grimly: "Hunting dogs, girl. They fight and think better than those infected. Trust them."

  The infected surged.

  The dogs tore into them with savage precision. Vitals fought behind them—sword arcs, parries, and brutal cuts. He set strange herbs alight and hurled them into the crowd; the smoke slowed the infected, clouding their senses and making them clumsy.

  Vitals, while fighting: "Lamis! Stay out of the smoke! Dogs don't mind it—humans will hallucinate!"

  Lamis, gripping her sword: "Understood!"

  She engaged the infected with restraint, aiming for nonlethal strikes—disabling limbs, breaking balance, using Leona technique: step, pivot, targeted joint work. One infected fell from her blow, but another lunged, jaws wide.

  Vitals: "No! Fool—"

  He intercepted, taking a heavy blow to the shoulder. The strike staggered him, but five dogs pounced and finished the attacker.

  Lamis, panicked: "Uncle Vitals! I'm sorry!"

  Vitals gripped his shoulder, voice low and strained. "It's fine."

  ---

  The Comet's Light and the Turning Tide

  A brilliant light tore through the clouds. The green comet flared, scattering the storm. One by one the infected collapsed—slumping, inert, their menace extinguished as if the comet's pulse severed whatever force animated them.

  Vitals: "Now! Move—this is our chance!"

  Lamis hustled, the dogs leaping into the cart. They urged the horses; the cart lurched forward.

  Lamis, shouting: "Uncle Vitals! The dogs—there are only four of them!"

  Flight Across the Wastes

  The cart thundered onward. Vitals urged the horses faster, voice steady despite the cold and the wound. "Don't worry. I saw Razwo slip into the lower compartment."

  Lamis: "Razwo?"

  Vitals: "The dog's name. Don't you hear him moving?"

  She listened and heard nothing. Vitals worked quickly, binding his shoulder wound with practiced hands, sweat beading on his brow despite the winter air. Fatigue carved lines into his face.

  Lamis, ashamed and small, whispered, "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

  Vitals shook his head. "No, girl. I'm of an older generation. You're of a new one. Remember that."

  Around Lamis the dogs slept in a ring, warm bodies curled against the cold. Vitals smiled, voice softening. "They loved my daughter Noura. She loved them back."

  Lamis felt tears sting her eyes but held them back. She patted one of the dogs, fingers trembling.

  They pushed on, leaving Leona's borders behind. The landscape opened into a barren expanse—deserted scrub and skeletal forests, a strange, frozen desert under the comet's green light. At last they pulled into a ruined desert village and the cart came to a slow stop.

  Vitals climbed down, every step heavy. Lamis hurried to support him.

  Lamis: "Uncle Vitals, please rest. I'll fetch water."

  Vitals, blood dark on his shoulder, shook his head. "No. Let's fetch it together."

  They walked to the village well, lowered the bucket, and drew up cold, clear water. Vitals smiled with relief. "Yes—water. That's a comfort."

  Lamis smiled back, but guilt lingered in her eyes.

  Memories and Confessions

  They moved through an abandoned house. Vitals rifled through boxes and scattered papers, lifting old pots and tools. He spoke quietly as he worked.

  Vitals: "I've traveled to the richest lands, girl, but I never felt the peace I felt in Aurik.

  Vitals glanced at the dusty window as the snow falls then said : Even here, They made it this far."

  He drank, the dogs padding out to stretch and guard. Then he paused among the ruins, voice low with memory.

  Vitals: "I've seen every corner of Silva—glowing-tree tribes, the abandoned mountains of Lenovard before its fall. I've seen islands in Leonithra before the Black Calamity. I've never found a place more alive than this desert once was."

  Lamis watched him gather a few useful things. "Leona and the glowing-tree forests don't have the same life and comfort that Aurik does. That's what I fear for."

  Lamis: "What do you mean?"

  Vitals found a child's drawing, faded and abandoned on a wall—a small, lonely sketch. He touched it and the confession came out in a rough whisper.

  Vitals: "I caused my family's death. We camped in a dangerous place. The Black Order attacked. They killed everyone and stole their souls—taken by a stranger with a scythe. I escaped. After that, I wanted something—wanted the Golden Generation. We still stand, but those lands were safe once. Guards and travelers walked them knights of Linovard were roaming the lands with their laughters. King Caesar himself would sometimes walk the forests alone. I remember him fighting a man with a sword of gray, burning flame."

  Vitals sat, sweat and blood staining his sleeve. Lamis moved to help, hands shaking.

  Lamis: "Stop talking. Let me put some herbs on it."

  Vitals: "It's fine. I already put some. It will do."

  He continued, voice steady despite the wound.

  Vitals: "I was young then. My father ran small sleight-of-hand shows between villages. We met someone who came through the woods without mercy—gray fire raining down. Then—crimson fire came at us. We didn't fear it. We felt warmth. We felt safe."

  —-