In the bosom of an April wind, under a blooming cherry blossom tree, the Spring Princess (Haru{春} Hime{姫}) was born.

  Sanjouno Haruhime was born the daughter of a mighty nobleman in the Far East. She’d spent much of her early life sheltered in her family’s estate, learning the lessons proper to any nobleman’s daughter. One of her only pleasures in those days was when she would occasionally sneak out of the mansion at night to play with some of the local kids. Those childhood companions had helped the shy girl to come out of her shell, and she treasured the memories she’d made with them to this day. Alas, even the small pleasures of those early days had been destined to end. One day, Haruhime made a grievous mistake, eating an offering that had been meant for the gods. Her father, in a fit of rage, had disowned her for her sins, leaving her destitute.

  Unfortunately, her few remaining friends had already left the Far East for a distant land when this had happened. Alone and in peril, a guest of her father’s had offered to take her in. He was a prum merchant, a weak fellow, but one with a kindly heart. The prum had taken her away from that place, and they’d spent some time on the road before even this new arrangement fell apart. The merchant’s caravan had been suddenly attacked by monsters, resulting in Haruhime being separated from her new guardian as well. She’d somehow survived, only to get picked up by some agents of Ishtar Familia and brought to Orario. The renart (fox person) was very beautiful by the standards of most, so the Familia agents had felt she’d make a good prostitute. However, Haruhime rebelled against the idea of becoming a prostitute, thanks to her prim and proper upbringing. Despite being disowned, this final disgrace would be too much for her. She’d convinced the Familia to allow her to work as a part of the cleaning staff instead, something they’d been willing to allow once they’d discovered her other talents.

  Haruhime wasn’t exactly happy with the arrangement, but she’d learned that she could scrape out a living if she did what she was told and kept her head down. She spent her days in a quiet melancholy until one day, she poked her head out of the window and looked down:

  “Mikoto-chan?”

  Haruhime was startled to see the face of one of her childhood companions staring back up at her. The young renart locked eyes with Mikoto for a long moment, relief and joy crashing through her system like a tsunami as a flush came to her cheeks. However, this pleasant feeling was suddenly interrupted by a sharp voice calling from behind her, “Haruhime! What are you doing? You decided to become a whore after all?”

  Suddenly terrified, Haruhime turned away from her friend, wiping away a few tears and returning to her duties. She spent the entire rest of the night contemplating that single moment. The renart had known that her old friends were in the city, yet Ishtar Familia hadn’t permitted her to visit. Perhaps Haruhime could have contacted them via a messenger, yet truthfully, the renart had been too ashamed. She’d been ashamed of her past failings and her current situation. She was simultaneously elated to finally see a friend and mortified to have that friend see her in this lowly place. These feelings warred within her constantly as she performed her nightly duties. The sun had just begun to rise when Haruhime was dismissed, and she collapsed into her bed with the exhaustion of someone who’d been worked to the bone. Conflicting feelings still roiled around within her, but they took a back burner as sleepiness overcame her, her eyelids slowly closing shut:

  “Tap-Tap-Tap Haruhime-dono? Tap-Tap-Tap Haruhime-dono!”

  Haruhime jerked awake, eyes fluttering as she sat up and looked around blearily. She then let out a squeak of astonishment to see Mikoto right outside her window. The young warrior stared at the renart with earnest bluish-purple eyes, waiting for Haruhime to respond. Before she could even think about what she was doing, the young renart was already out of bed and opening the window. She happily exclaimed, “Mikoto-chan! It’s good to see you!”

  The moment she said that, however, Haruhime winced a little. She suddenly remembered that the other Familia members nearby might hear her and resolved to keep things quiet from now on. Mikoto noticed her reaction, though she tabled that info in the back of her mind as the warrior gently smiled, “I am grateful to see you once more as well, Haruhime-dono. How have you been doing? And how did you get here?”

  The renart blushed, but in hushed tones she proceeded to explain her personal disgrace in her homeland and the various trials she’d undergone since. Mikoto listened carefully and patiently, never revealing a condemnatory or judgmental look, though Haruhime continued to wilt as the story went on. By the end, the renart looked down at the wood floor in mortification, her dishonor palpable in the room’s air. She waited in suspense for Mikoto to say something, fully expecting some form of condemnation:

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  “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  Haruhime looked up, tears brimming again as she gazed upon the concerned face of her old friend. Mikoto showed her nothing but genuine heartache as she gazed back, the young warrior yearning to help her renart companion. She spoke again, “I’m so glad you’re safe. It must have been so hard.”

  Now, Haruhime broke down into full-on sobs. She stifled her cries with her pillow, trying not to alert the others but unwilling to ignore these new feelings. Mikoto crept inside the room proper, putting her arms around her friend in compassionate silence, and Haruhime turned away from the pillow and buried her face in Mikoto’s shoulder. They stayed like that for some time, until Haruhime’s sobs finally tapered into sniffles. When she finally went silent, Mikoto mumbled quietly, “Do you want me to take you away from this place?”

  She instantly noticed that the young renart wasn’t happy in Ishtar Familia, yet the warrior was mildly shocked when Haruhime shook her head. The renart looked up at Mikoto again, eyes still glistening as she explained, “It’s hard here, but Ishtar Familia has given me a new home. I can’t leave them.”

  Mikoto studied her carefully, then got to the heart of the matter, “Do you mean you won’t leave them? Or that they won’t let you?”

  Haruhime’s breath grew shallow, and her face grew pale, though she didn’t deny the statement as she responded, “I’m special, Mikoto. I have a special magic that Ishtar Familia won’t give up easily. Trying to leave would bring nothing but trouble. And besides…”

  “I’m not worth of being saved.”

  She trailed off, leaving the last part of her sentence unsaid. Haruhime harbored no small amount of self-hatred, blaming herself for her complete fall from grace. Mikoto opened her mouth again, only to be interrupted by a voice from outside the door, “Haruhime! What’s going on in there?”

  Mikoto changes her response mid-thought, commenting in a low whisper, “I’ll be back.”

  With that, she slunk out of the room, silently closing the window behind her and leaving Haruhime alone again. Several Amazons from the Familia entered the room, barking out more questions, yet Haruhime wasn’t swift in turning to answer them.

  She couldn’t escape the notion that the room had never felt emptier.

  …

  Adama and Theresa were having a grand old time in the Dungeon. Well, Adama was. Theresa was mainly just trying to survive as she ran from the horde of enemies behind her, frantically trying to pick off as many as possible. They were on the 7thfloor, where large waves of ants could be generated relatively easily. The strength of their chitinous body armor also made them a difficult match for the archer. She didn’t have the offensive power to punch through their shells easily, and hitting the ants in the joints of their armor was a challenging prospect when a massive crowd of them was coming after her.

  Adama watched from afar, where most ants were happy to ignore him. Their survival instincts were usually too good to allow them to come after him, though one or two would occasionally try to take a bite. After one of these incidents, Adama was shaking off some green gunk from his fists while calmly calling out, “Keep your breathing even! No screaming.”

  Theresa stifled a yell, recalibrating her breathing according to Adama’s instructions. Although she obviously didn’t have or need a cycling technique, Adama knew that controlling one's breath was an essential part of fighting, whether madra was involved or not. Fighting this many enemies at once would help Theresa’s stats grow faster, but it would be even better for helping her to learn to keep her cool in difficult situations. At one point, Theresa finally did scream when one of the ants scratched her along her back, causing her to stumble. That allowed another ant to quickly jump forward and try to bite her head off. It would have succeeded if its body hadn’t been pulverized mid-air by a rock, thrown casually by a certain onlooking swordsman, “Stay focused. Can’t let a little pain rattle you.”

  Theresa took the chance to whip out a potion and leap away from the monsters, healing her wounds before continuing to shoot at her pursuers. Her breathing grew heavier, but she didn’t allow it to get frantic. Adama nodded sagely as he watched, following along as the elf ran further away. He needed to save her from death a few more times before she finally defeated the whole wave, the last ant falling with an indignant kreeek. The elf nearly collapsed in exhaustion afterward, yet Adama noted that she retained control over her breathing.

  He was sorely tempted to have Theresa deal with one more wave, but then he spotted something in one of the tunnels nearby. Adama visibly changed his mind and frowned slightly, addressing Theresa pensively, “Think you can make it topside by yourself?”

  She gathered herself and looked him in the eye, her breathing starting to slow now, “Just give me some time to recover and I’ll be fine. You’re not coming with me?”

  “Got something I want to look into first.”

  They stood there for a while before Theresa got her energy back. She gave Adama a curious look, though he gave nothing away, and she eventually shrugged, “Well, Hestia wanted me to tell you that she was making dinner tonight. Will you be able to make it?”

  Adama cracked his neck emphatically, “I’ll be there.”

  With that, Theresa bounded away. Adama made sure that she was really gone before he turned toward his careful observer, “That you, Arles?”

  The rabbit Xenos chittered noisily as he stepped into the light, crimson eyes wide with urgency as he hopped up to Adama. The swordsman held up a hand of caution, saying, “Slow down there, little white. Can’t understand what you’re saying.”

  Arles nodded and began drawing his message on the Dungeon floor. Adama leaned over and watched Arles write, his frown growing deeper as the Xenos continued. As he watched, the swordsman adjusted his plans in real time, various implications running through his head. Eventually, Arles stopped and turned to look at him, though Adama didn’t linger for long before he made up his mind and spoke out,

  “Show me.”