Jaeden ran a hand over the hilt of his sword, remembering what the Grimalkin had said about words, power, and true names. The old cat had a way of making simple truths sound like prophecy. "Thank you, Chester. Guess those lessons on names and power actually came in handy."

He turned to the woman before him, feeling his cheeks redden as he realized her situation. She stood there, entirely exposed, her expression a mix of dignity and discomfort. She inclined her head slightly, gesturing to her state. "A bit vulnerable here," she murmured with an awkward smile.

Jaeden blinked, mouth going dry as he fought to form words. "Oh! Right - uh, one sec," he stammered, glancing away quickly. His heart raced as he spun on his heel, muttering, "Just, um, wait here." He jogged back up the dimly lit passage, thoughts stumbling as fast as his feet. Well that was awkward, he thought as he ran.

Back in the hallway, Jaeden grabbed his patchwork cloak and armor pieces from his Null Gate. He hadn’t wanted to expose his tricks to someone he’d just met, no matter how innocent they seemed.

He wasn’t sure what exactly would fit her, but he’d make do. When he returned, he offered the cloak with an apologetic smile. "Not much, but, well...after I get your measurements, I can put together something more fitting."

Without waiting for her response, Jaeden began to work, hands moving instinctively as he pieced together an outfit from the crocodile and snakeskin leather he’d gathered. As he measured, his eyes brushed over her form only briefly - enough to note she was roughly Vee’s size. The memory stirred an old warmth, and he used it to shape the pieces quickly, fashioning a crude but functional set of armor.

Moments later, he handed her the makeshift attire. "It’s rough, but it’ll do. You’ll be protected, for now at least." He turned his back to give her privacy, the faint sound of leather and fabric rustling behind him as she dressed. The seconds felt longer than usual, and when she finally spoke - her voice softer now, almost like a whisper - he felt a thrill of curiosity spark.

"I'm finished," she said.

Jaeden turned slowly, letting his gaze travel up and down, taking in the transformation. She had adjusted the top, knotting the leather below her chest to give it a more fitted look. The leather pants clung to her frame, and with the cloak draped over her shoulders, she looked like a rogue straight out of a classic adventure game. Or maybe a hunter, prowling the wilds for prey. He grinned, leaning in with a half-smile.

"Well, well, look at you," he said, voice light. "Definitely beats the altar robes."

She smiled, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease. "I suppose I do owe you a proper introduction, seeing as you've, you know, saved my life and all." Her gaze held a mix of gratitude and wary appraisal. "Liandra. And you must be Jaeden."

Jaeden extended his hand, but the moment she touched it, she drew back, her fingers recoiling from his cool skin. He winced, letting out a sheepish laugh. "Sorry about that. Side effect from, uh…the sword. And the fight."

Liandra’s brows furrowed, glancing around them at the fallen bodies of cultists strewn across the chamber. "What…what exactly happened here?"

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Honestly? Not entirely sure," Jaeden admitted, scratching his head. He turned, searching the ground until his eyes landed on what he’d been looking for - a pair of small, pyramid-shaped dice, now returned to their dormant state. He picked them up, examining their faintly glowing surface, their aura still resonating with the fight’s lingering energy. Pocketing the dice, he retrieved a bag and gathered a handful of Prismata Dust - loot from the cultists’ unnatural forms. The ambient essence hummed against his palm, and he couldn’t help a low, satisfied grin.

Liandra had watched his swift movements in silent amazement, her expression equal parts awe and disbelief. "You move like…like a breath of flame on a summer wind," she murmured, voice thick with admiration.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Uh, thanks? Guess that’s a compliment?" He paused, considering her words. He hadn’t noticed anything odd about his movements, but now he realized - he had been moving faster than normal, almost as if something within him had been unlocked during the fight. He shrugged it off with a laugh. "Nah, just a regular guy."

"Regular guys don’t take down demon princes and cultists in one night." She folded her arms, a playful challenge glinting in her eye.

Jaeden matched her smirk with one of his own. "And beautiful women don’t usually end up on sacrificial altars. Guess we’re even." Or maybe they do, he thought, thinking back to nearly every RPG he’d ever played with damsels in distress and sacrifices.

Liandra’s cheeks colored slightly, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Well, I’ll concede that point," she replied. But then her smile faded, replaced by a shadow of caution.

"Back to the important stuff - why are you here? What were they doing? And…where exactly is here?" Jaeden asked.

Jaeden watched her expression shift, a flash of something hidden in her eyes. It was subtle, but he could tell she was weighing how much to reveal.

Finally, she took a breath, resolve hardening. "I’m - or, I was - a member of the Council of Shadows," she began, her voice dropping. "An advisor, one of nine who serve the Lord of our realm." Her gaze darkened as she gestured at the grim surroundings. "Clearly, some people weren’t too happy with that."

Jaeden leaned back, crossing his arms, intrigued. "So, the cultists? They wanted…what, your power? Or was it more personal?"

Liandra shook her head, biting her lip as frustration flitted across her face. "It’s complicated. There’s…a lot of secrets in the Council, even from each other. But whatever they wanted, it was worth risking a demon prince’s wrath to get it." Her voice trembled slightly, but she steadied herself, meeting his eyes with renewed determination.

"Look, Jaeden," she said, her voice lower now, edged with urgency, "this wasn’t just some rogue cult’s whim. There’s something deeper here - alliances, betrayals, and a quest for power that could tear the kingdom apart." Her fingers flexed at her side, fists clenching as she spoke. "And I think…I might be a pawn in something much bigger than even the Council."

Jaeden frowned, mulling over her words. His gut told him she was hiding something - something critical - but he held his tongue. Instead, he asked, "So, what’s next for you? You’re clearly not one to stay tied down."

Liandra’s gaze shifted, distant, as if seeing something he couldn’t. "Survival, for now. But beyond that…I have no idea." She shook her head, a trace of bitterness coloring her smile. "Guess I’ll figure it out. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll live long enough to take back what’s mine." Her voice dropped lower on the last bit, and Jaeden filed that away for later -don’t get on her bad side.

Jaeden chuckled, his tone teasing to break the heaviness. "Well, if you’re gonna be a rogue on the run, you might want to stick around. I happen to know a thing or two about navigating the underworld." He held up the dice in his hand, letting them glint in the torchlight. "Besides, these beauties might come in handy."

Her gaze flickered over the dice, a glint of interest sparking. "They are, Dice?" Her tone was perplexed.

"Yep. Got them from -a friend..." Jaeden finished lamely, and then he tossed one into the air, catching it deftly as he grinned at her. "Never know when a little -controlled chaos, might save your skin."

Liandra tilted her head, a sly smile growing. "Controlled chaos…you’re my kind of trouble, Jaeden."

"Glad to hear it," he replied with a wink.