Ravyn ground her teeth as she and Misha brewed evening cups of tea for Tristan and the others. Misha had been adamant about allowing her to perform their expected duties, but Ravyn was exhausted of the veiled politeness and exquisite service. She was Emberlynn’s daughter, not some prized vase to be put on display whenever it suited her mother best.

Calm yourself.

Tristan, Destiny, and Lara had taken Sophia into the large common room, where guests typically lingered. Their conversation was lively, and their giggles filled the air. Lara and Sophia were suddenly both chatterboxes, and if Ravyn didn’t know any better, she’d assume Sophia was Lara’s sister, not hers.

Cailu. That fucking cunt. Making his way into my family’s bloodline. What a pompous, insufferable, soulless fucking—

“Mistress Ravyn?” Misha asked under her breath.

“What?” Ravyn growled.

Misha’s gaze flickered to the cup she held. Ravyn’s knuckles were practically white as paper. “I fear you may break the cup if you continue to grip it like that.”

Ravyn hummed, then released her grasp and stretched her fingers. Bally perched on the back of a nearby chair to her left and offered her a squinted glance, snaking his head from side to side. With Lara and Sophia being as busy as they were, it was unlikely anyone would eavesdrop on their conversation.

Bally knew it, too.

“I’m going to step outside for a few minutes,” Ravyn said, marching to the door. She motioned to her familiar, and the bird flew to her shoulder. “Don’t come looking for me.”

“Y-yes, Mistress Ravyn,” Misha said, offering a curt bow.

A hand caught her by the shoulder just as she was turning the corner of the doorway. Ravyn turned and found Tristan. “Hey, you doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” Ravyn muttered.

Tristan retracted his arm. Unlike Matt, he seemed to understand when it was best to leave things alone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to impede you or anything.”

“I know.”

“Let me know if you need anything? I’m sure with everything that’s been happening that meeting Sophia is…probably a lot to swallow.”

“Mhm.” She turned and left him at that.

The muffled clicks of Ravyn’s shoes followed her down the hall. She carried herself at a brisk pace, eager to get out of the house. In a single day, she’d learned of her mother’s illness, the existence of a sister, and how Cailu’s involvement ran deeper than she’d realized.

Worst of all, she’d breathed the same air, sat beside him, and spoke to him without ever knowing that he was the father of her sister.

Her teeth squeaked from how hard she clenched.

“We’ll figure this out,” Bally whispered to her.

“I know,” she mumbled.

Ravyn pushed the door open slowly so as not to hit anyone who might be outside. To her relief, no one was there, so at least that was one less person she would need to explain herself to. She slipped through the crack, quietly shutting the door behind her.

The evening was dark and cool, just as it was when she was a kitten. A pair of torches strode close to the front gate at the bottom of the hill. Ravyn squinted to see who was carrying them, noting that one of them was Cecily. She didn’t recognize the other catgirl.

She sighed and glanced up at the sky. Stars speckled the space by the thousands. Blue-green mist stretched from one side of the sky to the other, shaped like dozens of tiny ribbons—a San Island spectacle best seen from Zhuli. Mountains loomed on the distant horizon, stretching high like spires desperate to touch the stars. She blinked, remembering a similar sight with Finn back in Shulan.

The memory didn’t upset her like it normally would. She wondered if that was okay. If she was finally coming around to forgiving herself for killing him. It was becoming easier to accept what had happened. To understand the accidental nature of it all. For years, she’d hoped to receive a sign—anything—from Finn that he’d forgiven her.

But that never happened. And now she didn’t feel like she needed it anymore.

This hadn’t been transpiring the way she anticipated at all. In the beginning, she’d planned on sticking around with the new man and his naive set of collectible girls. Berate them, play around, get drunk, maybe even give Matt some head if she was feeling particularly generous. Anything to kill the boredom and numb the pain of losing Finn and Yomi. And yet, as she traveled with her new Party, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing them.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Are you okay, Matt?

She shook her head and brought herself back to the present. Tristan would struggle without her help. Whether she liked it or not, she was here, and she’d have to do something soon.

“Ravyn,” Bally said, flapping his wings.

“I know. Just…give me a minute.” Ravyn strode to one of the pillars farthest away from the door, sitting with her legs propped up. She wrapped her arms around them and pulled them close. “This is just a lot.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure they won’t find out about you?”

“I’m not sure. Sometimes, I detect a strange presence, one I can’t explain. There’s a fluctuation in the air. I sensed it when we spoke with Emberlynn.”

“The Elements might actually be fucking sentient?” Ravyn frowned. “That’s just great.”

“If they are, then there’s a possibility that Lara will find out about me.”

Ravyn blinked. “Yes.”

“Does that bother you?”

Absolutely. She and Ball Gag’s partnership was meant to be their own. Familiars rarely learned to speak to their summoners, and instead were dismissed until they were required in combat. There were plenty of Spells that [Sorcerer] could learn in order to communicate with their familiar, but they all involved methods of telepathy. No, she much preferred to hear Bally say what he thought.

“Yes, it does.” She tightened her grip. Teaching Bally how to talk was a daily exercise. Yomi and Finn had helped teach him phrases, and she used several different tools and toys, including bells, whistles, and hand gestures. Yomi’s eyes would light up whenever Bally would say something new, and Finn would offer him a ‘bird biscuit,’ as he called it. It wasn’t until Finn passed away and she and Yomi drifted apart that Bally began to learn more complicated phrases.

Ravyn’s face grew hot at the thought of what she was about to say. “We have a reputation to uphold. If everyone knew you could speak so eloquently, that would destroy our entire dynamic.”

Bally cackled. It was high-pitched, like a squeaking whistle. “Very well. Will you at least tell Matt of our…dynamic…next time you see him?”

Ravyn blinked, and the heat in her cheeks intensified. What the hell is wrong with you? Stop acting like a fucking kitten. “Fine.”

“As soon as he gets back?”

“You just had to add that part.”

“You will put it off otherwise.”

Damn bird. “As soon as he gets back.”

Silence swept by them for a few minutes. A gentle breeze was making its round, biting the skin on her knees and elbows. Her anger was beginning to dissipate, and she drew long breaths to make sure it continued to do so.

“So, when are you going to speak to Emberlynn about Tristan?” Bally suddenly asked. “You can’t keep putting this off.”

“Soon. I’m just trying to digest this whole having a sister thing.” The realization was beginning to settle in. If her mother’s condition continued to worsen, that would make Sophia the head of the household. That was, assuming her mother still wished to make Sophia the new mistress. With Ravyn’s sudden reappearance, Emberlynn would likely return to the status quo and name Ravyn head of the estate. “Sophia won’t have anyone after Mother dies. And it looks like that could be soon.”

“She will have you.”

Ravyn cackled. “I got too much of my own shit to deal with. No, that would have to be a job for the nyannies and servants. I don’t think I’ll make a great sister.”

Silence.

Bally fluttered down to the ground in front of Ravyn. His talons clicked and scraped against the stone as he walked in circles. He liked to do that whenever he was thinking. Like master, like familiar.

“I think you will make a wonderful sister.”

Ravyn sighed and leaned her head against her shoulder. “Where do you get all of that optimism, Bally?” She reached over and scratched him under his beak. Bally puffed up and shut his eyes, and she smiled while he relished in the sensation. “You’ve seen what I’ve had to go through. You saw how he perished, how I killed him—”

“You didn’t kill him. It was an accident.”

She ignored him and continued, “—the endless nights spent drinking. Yet you never judged me.”

Bally gently shrugged away her finger and marched up to her leg, nuzzling against her calf. “Because I want to see your smile.” He drew back so the two’s eyes were locked. “You have smiled a lot more since you met Matt. Did you realize that?”

She hesitated. “Yes. I started to realize that when Matt almost died on Shi Island. I was so afraid of losing the happiness I never thought I’d see again. I was afraid of losing my friends and of losing…him. It hurt.”

“I was scared, too. He’s good for you.”

Ravyn gasped. “Bally, don’t…please.”

He nodded once. “Okay.”

“I’ll…go talk to Mother in the morning. Maybe this will give me a chance to, erm, bond with my sister.” The idea was equal parts embarrassing and sickening, though she fought hard to vacate the ‘sickening’ part.

“Promise me, Ravyn. You need to do this if you are going to move on.”

Ravyn paused and looked back up at the sky. “I promise.”

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