I broke into their home, Leonotis thought, his eyes darting between the three predators. They’re just guarding what’s theirs.

  The first demon lunged. It barked as its claws shredded the air where Leonotis’s head had been a second before. He parried the strike, the wooden blade humming as it deflected the beast’s weight.

  "Stay back!" Leonotis grunted. He slammed his palm into the filth-covered floor. "Grow!"

  Thick, thorny vines erupted from the cracks in the stone, twisting like snakes around the legs of the lead hyena. For a moment, it worked—the beast was pinned. But before Leonotis could move for the exit, the other two demons descended on the vines. Their jaws snapped with bone-crushing force, their teeth glowing with a dark, corrosive energy that turned the green plants to black ash in seconds.

  They were working together, a pack mind fueled by shadow.

  Leonotis backed away, his heels hitting the cold stone wall. One hyena snapped at his midsection; he spun, using the flat of his blade to shove it back. Another lunged for his throat. He barely caught its jaw with the crossguard of the wooden sword, the beast's hot, putrid breath washing over his face.

  I can’t hold them all, he realized, a cold dread sinking into his gut. If I don’t strike to kill, they’re going to tear me apart.

  He adjusted his grip, the green light in his hands flaring brighter, sharper. He looked at the lead demon's exposed throat. He didn't want to do it, but the exit was a world away and his strength wouldn't last long.

  "Hey! You still alive down there?" A voice boomed from the jagged hole in the roof above.

  Leonotis didn't have time to answer. He didn't even have time to look up.

  A heavy shadow plummeted through the hole. A palace guard, seeking the glory of the kill, dropped into the pit with a triumphant shout, his steel sword raised high. He landed with a heavy thud in the center of the kennel, completely unaware of the shifting shadows behind him.

  The hyenas didn't hesitate.

  In a blur of smoke and eyes, all three demons pounced at once. The guard had just enough time to widen his eyes before the lead hyena’s jaws clamped around his helmet. With a sickening, wet crunch, the beast twisted his neck.

  Leonotis watched, paralyzed, as the man’s head was ripped clean from his shoulders. Blood sprayed across the stone, and the body slumped forward, the heavy armor clattering uselessly against the floor.

  The demons ignored Leonotis instantly. The scent of fresh, heavy meat was a far greater prize than the scrawny boy who smelled like plants. They fell upon the remains with a crazed hunger.

  The distraction was grisly, but it was his only chance.

  "Up," Leonotis whispered.

  He channeled every ounce of his à?? into a single, focused burst. A thick, reinforced vine shot upward from the floor, anchoring itself to a sturdy timber beam near the hole in the roof. He grabbed the green rope and hauled himself up, his muscles screaming as he scrambled out of the pit.

  He reached the rooftop and paused for a single, haunting second to look back down.

  In the dim light of the kennel, he saw the three demons huddled over the guard's remains. The man was gone.

  Leonotis turned away but the image didn't leave with him.

  The guard had been alive thirty seconds ago. Shouting, even. And now he was gone in a way that left nothing worth looking at.

  If he had killed the hyenas when he first dropped in, the man would still be breathing. Simple math. He had hesitated because they were just guarding their home, because killing them had felt wrong. That choice had kept a man alive just long enough to die worse.

  But then the quieter thought came.

  Was the guard's life worth more than theirs? The hyenas hadn't chosen to be in that pit. Someone had put them there, fed them bones, made weapons out of living things. They hadn't deserved to die for that.

  And now, with human remains on their floor, they wouldn't survive the week regardless.

  Either way he had killed them. Just slowly. With someone else's hands.

  He ran. The city was dark and the shrine was still somewhere ahead.

  If he had been stronger the man would still be alive. If he had been faster, the hyenas would live too. He had fallen into that pit and everyone else inside it had paid for the price for it.

  A ruin of a temple, long-since abandoned by the city and half-claimed by the creeping roots. Once, priests had tended fields and orchards beyond its walls. Now, its cracked floor was littered with weeds, its altar half-buried in dust, its stone columns wrapped tight with ivy like skeletal giants embraced by vines.

  And in the center of the chamber—by the extinguished braziers and the collapsed mural of Oko’s sickle—stood a woman.

  Jabara.

  She was waiting with her arms crossed.

  She looked tired.

  She looked furious.

  She looked relieved.

  All at once.

  Leonotis stumbled through the broken doorway, nearly collapsing as adrenaline drained from his limbs.

  Jabara’s voice cracked like a whip.

  “Close the door.”

  Low slammed the heavy slab of wood shut behind them, bracing it with a fallen beam. Jacqueline leaned against the nearest pillar, chest heaving. Zombiel slid silently along the wall until he found a patch of shadow to sink into, breathing like a child who’d outrun a nightmare.

  For a long moment, Jabara simply looked at them—her eyes moving from one bruised face to the next, lingering on every scrape, every tear in their clothes, every tremor in their hands.

  "Sit," she said. They dropped to the floor. "Tell me everything. And do not leave out the parts where you ignored my directions."

  Leonotis went first. "I ran until the ground looked like a painting. I felt you pushing me toward the stone balcony, High Seer. I felt the pressure on my ribs... but I thought I could make the gap my own way. I wall-jumped and dropped straight into a rotten roof."

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  Jabara’s expression tightened. "I tried to steer you away from the rot, Leonotis. Once you fell into it, the stone was too thick for my voice to reach you."

  "Yeah that demon pit was terrible."

  Jabara stiffened. “A what pit?”

  Leonotis blinked, as though surprised she didn’t know. “A demon kennel.”

  The room went still.

  “A… demon kennel?” Jabara repeated, very slowly.

  “Hyena demons,” he said. “Three of them.”

  Even describing them made his face pale.

  “I heard one growling before I saw them. Then the smoke peeled off their backs and they came out of the dark.” He mimicked the rolling shoulder movement, shuddering. “They had bones everywhere. Some still had… meat on them.”

  Low grimaced.

  “And you survived,” Jabara said.

  “I didn’t want to kill them. I was the one who invaded their home. They were unbelievably fast. I was afraid I'd have to actually hurt them but after a few near misses a guard must have heard me jumped in after me. The demons… they didn’t care about me once they smelled heavier prey.”

  Jacqueline sucked in a sharp breath.

  “They went for the guard?” she whispered.

  Leonotis nodded. “Tore into him the second he landed. I couldn't save him. His head was gone before I knew it."

  Silence fell over the shrine.

  Jabara exhaled slowly—then pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezing shut.

  She set her hand on Leonotis’s shoulder. For a moment, Leonotis didn’t breathe.

  The touch anchored him.

  “You made it back,” she said softly. “That’s what matters.”

  Low spoke next, her chin raised despite the fresh bruises. "I heard you at the fork in the alley. You tilted my head toward the kiln. I followed your voice through the fire."

  Jabara nodded. "And the man there?"

  Low’s fingers twitched. "He blocked the guard. But the smell... when you stopped the wind to let me pass him, the air went still enough for me to scent him. He smelled like my curse. Like a werebear."

  The room grew cold. Jabara’s expression darkened with recognition. "My divination told me that that was the safest way for you, Low. I do not know this man, but he did not mean to do you any harm this day. I can't speak to his motivations for helping you. I can do a more in-depth divination later to ascertain his intentions."

  Jacqueline recounted her escape next. "The guard was like a hunting bird. But then the air started humming. I recognized that resonance from the arena—the way you make the wind vibrate when you speak to the masses."

  "I used the water you called," Jabara said, a sliver of a smile touching her lips. "I caught your droplets in my gale and spun them into the sound of footsteps. I made the guard hear three of you."

  "A water double," Jacqueline whispered. "He swung at the air while I was three alleys away. Thank you for the distraction, High Seer."

  Finally, Zombiel told his story. He spoke of the wind slamming into his back, physically lifting his heels to make him fast enough to reach the window. He told them about the girl with the green scales who had hidden him.

  "I think I want to see her again," he mumbled, shrinking into his corner.

  Leonotis choked on his breath. Low stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head. Jabara simply blinked. "I cannot believe I am dealing with crushes on top of everything else," she sighed, rubbing her temples.

  Only after each story was told did Jabara rise. Her cloak brushed the floor, stirring small motes of dust.

  “You four,” she said, “are alive through miracle, talent, and overwhelming stupidity. In that order.”

  They almost laughed.

  But the adrenaline had worn off. The fear lingered. Every child in that room felt their limbs start to tremble now that safety finally wrapped around them.

  Jabara waved a hand.

  “I did what I could with your camp. Food. Pillows. Water.”

  She gestured toward the old corner where she’d fixed up their makeshift camp—blankets, dried fruits, a pot of river-brewed tea, rolled mats for sleeping. A soft glow from a fire-red orb flickered gently above the shrine floor like a captured star.

  Low sank down immediately onto a blanket.

  Jacqueline grabbed a cup of tea and downed it in three gulps.

  Leonotis took a pillow and hugged it like a drowning man clutching driftwood.

  Zombiel simply curled into a shadowed cot.

  Jabara watched them with eyes that softened over each heartbeat.

  They weren’t soldiers.

  They weren’t operatives.

  They weren’t even supposed to be fugitives.

  They were children.

  Children forced into danger far beyond their years.

  Her jaw tightened.

  “Listen to me,” she said, kneeling among them. “You did well. Better than anyone your age has a right to. But you must understand—today was the easy part.”

  Four tired faces lifted toward her.

  “When dawn breaks, the King will ride out with his elite guard in the Sky Citadel. The palace will be weaker than it has been in years. That is our window.”

  "Our window," Leonotis said.

  Jabara nodded confirming that she would be with them. "I will assist you. I cannot let you do this on you own."

  Leonotis swallowed.

  “To rescue Gethii and Chinakah.”

  Jabara nodded grimly.

  “Yes. And once we take them… Rega will hunt us. Every palace guard will hunt us. We will not be safe in this city again.”

  A shiver passed through the room.

  Low pulled her knees to her chest. “So… what you’re saying is…”

  Jabara’s eyes glowed faintly in the dimness.

  “…After tomorrow, we run for our lives.”

  They slept in deeply.

  Zombiel curled close to Jacqueline. Low slept hugging her throwing stones like plush toys. Leonotis lay awake the longest, staring up at the cracked ceiling where moonlight passed in fractured lines.

  His thoughts churned.

  The fight in the arena.

  The dead affinity stone.

  Rega’s piercing gaze.

  The rooftop chase.

  The demons.

  His friends almost dying.

  He closed his eyes.

  Tomorrow we go into the palace…

  and I can’t let anyone die.

  Not his friends.

  Not Jabara.

  Not Gethii.

  Not Chinakah.

  He clutched the wooden sword tighter.

  He didn’t know if he could fight palace guards.

  He didn’t know if his green à?? would be strong enough.

  But he knew he would try.

  He drifted to sleep with that single truth burning in his chest.

  The air in Leonotis's dream was cool and damp, thick with the scent of rich earth and ancient leaves. He stood in a clearing within a dense, primeval forest, dappled sunlight filtering through a canopy of impossible green. On his left hip, the cold, heavy weight of the original Ada Ogun felt substantial, gleaming with an otherworldly sheen. On his right, the familiar, rough wooden replica rested, humming with a faint, internal thrum.

  He looked deeper into the tangled woods, a flicker of curiosity wondering if that boy made of bark, the Dryad he had met, might be somewhere within. He took a single step forward, drawn by the forest's call.

  But before he could take another, the metal Ada Ogun, the true blade, dropped from his waist. It hit the mossy ground with a silent thud, then shimmered, elongating and shifting. In a burst of emerald light, it transformed into a towering woman with eyes like polished jade and hair like spun silver. The Sword Maiden, Ada Ogun herself, stood before him, fully manifest.

  "Foolish boy," she chided, her voice a melodic chime, yet stern. "Going back into the Dark Forest? We have more important things to discuss than your sentimental wanderings."

  Leonotis bowed his head, chastened. "Ada. Thank you deeply for your help with Silas. I truly—"

  She cut him off with a flick of her hand. "Gratitude noted. Now, when do you plan on getting Gethii? My patience is not endless, and neither is his."

  "We're waiting for the King to depart for the Dark Forest tomorrow," Leonotis explained. "Once he's gone, the dungeons will be less fortified, and we can make our move."

  Ada nodded. "A sensible plan."

  "You can help us find him, right?" Leonotis pressed. "Using your connection to him?"

  "Yes," she confirmed. "If you are close enough, I can guide you."

  "I will get you to him soon," Leonotis promised, his heart thrumming with renewed determination.

  He then looked at the wooden replica of Ada Ogun still secured to his side. It remained a sword, unmoving. "And... will you still talk to me in my dreams after you are reunited with Gethii?" he asked, a touch of embarrassment coloring his tone.

  Ada looked at him, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Why, getting attached to me already, Leonotis?"

  "No, I just mean—"

  Ada stopped him with a gentle laugh. "By my talking to you through the wooden replica, a portion of me is already in the sword. A piece of my spirit, a fragment of my will."

  As she finished speaking, the wooden sword at his hip began to shimmer. It didn't melt like the original, but seemed to grow and vitalize, its rough wood grain becoming smoother, more refined. Then, in a soft, green glow, it too transformed.

  In its place stood a young girl, no older than Leonotis himself. Her skin had a rich, woody texture, like polished mahogany, and her eyes were bright and almost cheerful. She looked at him intently, and Leonotis could feel his heart thump a little harder in his chest. A strange, undeniable spark of connection flared between them.

  The original Ada Ogun, the majestic Sword Maiden, looked down at her wooden counterpart. The two figures, one ancient and powerful, one young and vibrant, spoke in unison, their voices perfectly synchronized, showing they were indeed of one mind.

  "This portion of me, in the wooden sword, isn't as strong as my original form, which has been around for over a thousand years," the twin voices chimed. "But if you keep using it, and you give proper reverence to the blade, your wood variant will grow stronger, allowing for easier mastery of sword skills."

  Leonotis's eyes widened with the realization. All the difficult, precise sword skills Gethii had tried to instill in him before, with no avail... now, they might be within his grasp.

  "Enough," Ada Ogun's original form commanded, her voice singular once more. "It's almost daytime, and I need you ready to get Gethii."

  Leonotis nodded, his dream-self filled with purpose. "I understand. I'll be ready."

  The forest began to fade, the light dimming, pulling him back to the waking world.