Halcyon: denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.

- Oxford Languages

* * *

Prologue

When she looked up to the starry night, she could forget for an instant the terrible agony running through every inch of her body. So mesmerizing, like those warm nights I shared with everyone while camping.

She chuckled, even though the most minuscule movement filled her with piercing pain. Due to her extreme fatigue, her natural regeneration had started to falter, barely able to close the hole in her stomach.

Her delicate, soft pink hands were completely tarnished with red after trying to stop the bleeding for long, torturous minutes. She stared at her slim fingers before reaching out to the sky, clearly visible through the palace’s collapsed rooftop, which seemed to call her.

Will I turn into a shooting star once I just… give up?

The sight of a dozen lights dancing above and congregating until forming a bigger luminescent sphere made her eyes glitter. Was she dreaming?

Those are not stars... Fireflies, perhaps?

After a short beaming spectacle, the number of tiny glowing dots grew into thousands, gaining a humanoid form. Soon, she could see the impossible figure of a female warrior, raising her blade to the heavens while riding a winged steed.

A valkyrie? She thought immediately. But why was that the first thing that came to my mind? Maybe because it looks strangely familiar...

The enjoyment of such a magnificent sight ended when the flying apparition started channeling energy and unleashing it towards the city outskirts. A powerful, world-ending display of power that illuminated the sky for brief seconds.

It’s targeting the walls, probably... So in this world, such beauty is also used for war. Why am I not surprised?

She exhaled, ready to be at peace with herself and with everything, as the celestial being dissipated as quickly as it was summoned.

Where could my partner be? Is he safe? I just hope that he wasn’t the target of that attack...

The loud sound of footsteps startled her, signaling the end of her short break. But she did not move, hoping that her pursuer would just leave and forget about her.

The sun will die first.

The voice of a woman echoed through the once beautiful altar’s room to welcome the intruder. It was a known voice. Surely from the last survivor and guardian of the palace.

Wait! She has nothing to do with this! The wounded girl quietly groaned while gathering the strength to stand up and take a peek at the newcomer, fervently clenching the dagger in her right hand.

She intervened too late.

The black knight, wearing a helmet modeled after a crow’s beak, glanced at her beside a pool of fresh blood, and the still-warm body of a white-clothed lady.

The Girl and the Black Knight had unfinished business to resolve.

If you could call it that...

* * *

After a long week of starvation, the red-hooded hunter found a green dragon at the foot of a mountain. Later that night, she devoured it to the bone.

She used leather from the wings to pack it all, forming a 13-foot tall bag, and tied it with rope. While preparing straps for easy carrying, she heard an electronic sound coming from her raggy backpack. Frowning, she got closer until discovering a red blinking light coming from the inside.

Let’s see if I still remember how it works. I just need to… She held the black device aloft and pressed a button.

“What do you want?” she said aloud, startling herself. She could not remember the last time she heard her voice.

“I’ve already told you, don't answer like that! Be more gentle. Or at least try to be a little more formal,” a man’s voice could be heard from the device’s speaker.

“Fine, I’ll try it next time,” she said, clenching her teeth. “What do you want?”

“What do I—” The masculine voice stuttered, then loudly sighed. “Listen, I’ll be quick. Drop whatever you’re doing and consider returning immediately. The Black Tide is coming.”

Hearing that, the hooded hunter felt something inside her stomach. And it’s not the dragon’s meat.

She let out a grunt. “Understood. Thanks. I’ll be there right away. And I’ll bring a little something I found.” She chuckled.

“Eh? No! I have too much work to do right now! Don’t bring me any—” The voice was suddenly silenced by her turning the device off.

She stood there for a second, feeling the chilly air flowing through her arms’ fur. She looked at the distance. A barren field devoid of life in a six-mile radius.

The Black Tide, huh? Should I wait until it stops? I’m pretty sure I’m at a safe distance. The thought ceased after the silhouette of a knight came to her mind.

There was still moonlight.

She rushed to extinguish her campfire, held her backpack with her snout, and looked upside, shifting to her stronger form. She carried the large, improvised luggage to her back and started running at full speed. With her belly at its fullest, she could travel the 50-mile distance without taking a break. She just needed to get there before the sunrise.

* * *

Two hours later, just before losing her transformation, she stopped in front of an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. There, 700 yards away from the walls, she entered through the collapsed main entrance and changed back to normal.

Define normal.

The only clothes in her inventory were a dirty red hoodie sweater and ripped denim jeans. Since shoes were too uncomfortable, she never tried to get a pair, so her naked hairy feet showed large, black claws that she used to caress the snowy ground. Before leaving, she looked up to the destroyed rooftop, then to the erected statue on a pedestal, its head detached.

It’s better that way buddy, trust me. You wouldn’t like to see what has changed there.

Ready to show herself in public, she took her luggage, reaffirmed the straps of rope to her armpits, and went out of the temple. After climbing up a small hill she could see ahead of the black, shiny walls and a hurried caravan of vehicles marching towards it. She exhaled and joined the soldiers proudly carrying an eagle emblem in their vehicles and uniforms.

She tried to hide her head beneath her hoodie, but her canine snout came out, attracting the gaze of a driver who called out his partner, chuckling. “That explains the wet dog smell.” Both laughed annoyingly. She ducked her head and went through them by doubling her steps, their laughter dying at the sight of her monster-sized luggage.

Finally reaching the wall’s shade, she looked up to watch the black stone glimmering, like it was made of onyx. Snowflakes made their way down to her snout. At the top, 160 feet up from her position, a blue flag waved, showing proudly the head of a golden stag. She hated that emblem.

I even prefer the eagle these idiots are flaunting, she thought, glancing at one of the vehicles at her side.

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“Do you like the idea that a prey animal represents this whole kingdom?” she had asked The White Knight once, while stubbornly snorting.

He had only laughed. “Sometimes, stags kill wolves with their powerful antlers. Don’t ever forget that.”

While thinking of him, she crossed the road, leaving the motorized vehicles behind to get to another smaller entrance, where others tried to enter as quickly as possible. Will I be able to see him today? At least once?

“Halt!” A tall guard blocked her path.

She looked at the crowd, and then at him. Why am I the only one being stopped?

The man was glaring at her.

Oh, now I know why.

“What is it?” the red-hooded girl asked, tensing her jaw.

“Name?” the guard demanded.

“Candice.”

“What are you carrying there?”

“Trade goodies,” she quickly replied, glancing at her surroundings. She was not the only one transporting baggage. “Hey, I’ve been a merchant in this city for the last four months, so what gives?”

The guard snickered. “You, a merchant? I’ll have to see your ID.” He stood very straight, with one hand over his holster. Candice could see his handgun.

She exhaled loudly and pulled out a card from her pocket. The guard then scrutinized it for several long seconds, searching for evidence of forgery.

"Seriously?" Candice growled but got quickly distracted by a commotion a few feet ahead.

“Hey, watch it!” a woman cried while assisting her partner, who had fallen to her knees. Both wore white robes which displayed, sewed on their backs, an arrow piercing a burning sun. "Such rudeness!" she said aloud, glaring at the tall figure rushing her way towards the opposite direction of the line, pushing everyone out of the way with ease.

Candice could only distinguish a silver-blonde ponytail disappearing into the crowd. I don’t know her face and I already hate her.

"Petra, what's wrong?" the woman cried again. All of a sudden, her partner started coughing blood, staining their immaculate clothes. “Hang on! I'll get Serca to check you up right away!”

“Hey, do we have time for this?” Candice returned her attention to the guard, frowning. “I thought this was an emergency, wasn’t it?” She quickly glanced at his emblem’s rank. “Or what? A grunt like you does even have the authority to leave people outside?”

Her mocking tone made some people chuckle, turning the guard’s face red.

“You little—”

“What seems to be the problem, Sergeant?” A man got close, wearing a black leather trench coat and the thickest mustache Candice had ever seen. Even she was impressed at the sight of the numerous decorations adorning the left side of his chest.

Before continuing, the man yelled to a couple of soldiers, pointing at the white-clothed women. "Don't stand there like fools! Take them to the Holy Mercy Church!"

The guard holding Candice's ID turned pale. “Colonel Rhino," he called, waiting for the huge man to turn to him again. "I’m checking any possible smugglers, sir.”

“Smugglers?” the mustached man repeated, glancing at Candice’s huge bag. “Do you suspect this lady could smuggle some undead in there?” He waited for an answer, staring at the guard, who maintained his mouth ajar. The man sighed. “Do your work the right way, then! Guide her to one of the scanners and be done with it! The lady is right; we don’t have the time.”

“Yes, sir! My apologies, sir! Miss Candice, this way, please.”

So I’m a “miss” now? Candice snorted and followed the guy, glancing one last time at the officer who winked at her before yelling to the newcomers to not break the line. Once Candice went through their ‘trustworthy’ machine, and snatched her ID back from the guard, she continued her way to the main street, which was now full of hurried soldiers. Her bag made it difficult to pass through, but she managed to get to an empty alley where she could cut some road after being yelled at.

Before disappearing between the shade of buildings, something reflecting the morning sunlight caught her attention. 150 feet into the distance there was a podium, where the emblem of a burning sun pierced by an arrow towered a gathering crowd.

Above them, a woman dressed entirely in white robes lifted her hands to the heavens, praying. “Oh, Lord Artheos, Protector of the Innocent. Guide us through these dark times and provide us with a glimpse of your holy light!”

“We are your sword and shield,” a group of knights chanted, kneeling and solemnly bowing their heads while hitting the floor with their lances.

If Artheos pissed on them, they’d chant, ‘We’ve been blessed!’ Candice snorted loudly before turning back.

The alley reeked of iron, without the smallest hint of filth. She remembered how different this place was just months ago. There used to be death and decay all around. Rat shit every way you saw. She wondered if this city’s newfound ‘perfection’ was thanks to those called Eagles. These outsiders usually wore tight clothes with minimal embellishments, contrasting the jewelry and wealth displayed by the nuns and priests worshiping Artheos.

She could perceive the smell of oil and grease long before she could even see the smoke coming from the rooftops. Her feet brought her to an industrial facility, where Eagles were driving armored vehicles and Stags were running everywhere trying to arm themselves.

“Out of the way!” yelled someone carrying a large crate, helped by a yellow mechanical suit that looked too slow for combat.

Candice grunted and she resumed her way to the inside, where engineers were tuning vehicles and adjusting long-range weapons, and smiths polished swords on the opposite side of the aisle.

That’s more like it. She hurried her way to the last cubicle, separated by the rest, a 40 by 26 foot workshop. There she found a man in his twenties, dirt on his face and his muscular arms, hammering a shield into perfection. His skin was bright red and it showed grayish, stony scales in his knuckles and shoulders.

He glanced at Candice, showing two round horns sprouting over his black hair, and nodded to her. Before continuing with his work, his eyes widened at the huge package on her back. “Oh, hell no!”

“Hey, Rolo! The last blade didn’t last long, I need you to make me something more—”

The young smith lifted his index finger, interrupting her. His small and tired eyes could not reflect anger even if he wanted to. “I don’t want to hear it! I have unfinished work to do and General Stein is busting my nuts every five minutes asking for his shield. If I don’t get this to work in the next hour I’m going to—Wait! Did you break the manticore blade? How the hell did that happen? You know what? I don’t care. That thing was too difficult to work with! I remember you brought me the tail still damn leaking venom and I almost—” He began to mutter. “What are you carrying there?”

Candice smirked. With a quick movement of her claw, she slashed the ropes holding the bag together, letting its contents onto the ground. Green scales fell on the dirty floor, some as big as the shield Rolo was working with, the smallest ones the size of a child’s face, and claws as big as an adult’s leg.

The smith fell on his knees, holding one scale, feeling its hardness. Caressing the texture almost brought tears to his eyes

“I want twin blades,” Candice said aloud, glancing at the displayed weapons. “Like that design. I’ve seen how rogues fight and I think I can handle it as good as—hey, are you listening?”

“The biggest scale for breastplates,” muttered Rolo, absorbed, “the smaller ones for shoulder pads and gauntlets. I could make some good swords out of these fangs and strong hilts using these claws…”

“Look at me! I want twin blades this big!” she pressed on, while Rolo quickly looked her way.

“Yeah, yeah. Come back in three days once everything settles down.”

She snickered. “I’ll come tomorrow.”

“Wha—But I already told you what’s knocking at our door!”

“You won’t fight at the front line, will you?” Candice replied, making him sigh.

“Then I’ll deal with another sleepless night, eh... Rita! Bring your fatty ass here, now!”

From a steel shed in the back appeared a young smiley teenager. Face as dirty as his brother’s, same red skin and demon-like features. “Oh, it’s you, Candice! Did you bring us something good this time?”

“How dare you! I always collect the best of the best!” Candice pretended to become indignant, letting out her old French accent. I forgot I could still sound like this. “Rolo! Teach your little sister some manners, or I will!”

“What’s all thiiiis?!” Rita gasped, looking at the materials Rolo was trying to carry between his arms.

“Don’t just stay there! Help me store all of this before someone sees us!”

While the siblings did their job, Candice glanced at the weapons on display. Dozens of longswords, daggers, and a full set of armor with price tags on them. She took the blade she pointed at before. Yes, something like this. She held it to feel its weight. The steel was immaculate. She cut the tip of her finger to test its edge, which appeared to be extremely sharp, but she knew right away that it would not last a week. At least for me. What does Rolo usually say? Good materials make a fine weapon, but an excellent warrior makes it legendary? Or are those Joseph’s words?

“Can I borrow it?” Candice asked aloud.

“What? Are you going to be on the frontlines?” Rolo sneered while carrying two scales on each arm.

“These materials are so beautiful,” Rita sighed, entranced by its jade color. “I even feel bad for this poor creature you killed.”

“Don’t be. The only thing keeping their blood lust from decimating this fortress and everyone in it is that dragons aren’t stupid enough to try it.”

“These are from a dragon?!” Rita shrieked, making Rolo wince.

“Goddammit Rita, be quiet!”

A shrieking, startling noise was heard, followed by an orange light coming from an oval bulb at the workshop’s entrance. Rolo stared at it while Candice relaxed her muscles, holding the blade aloft.

“That’s the third one,” Rita said, voice broken.

“The Tide has been seen at our borderlands,” Rolo informed, frowning at Candice. “You came just in time.” He rushed to pick the rest of the materials. “Rita, pay Candice 5000 Goldin. We’re closing!”

Rita frowned, looking at his brother for a moment. The biggest scale had to be worth at least that amount of credits. She glanced apologetically at Candice, who just nodded. Rita reached out to a drawer, pulling out a white unmarked card, and inserted it into a tiny cashing machine. She typed the right amount and delivered the card after adding a free sheath for the blade. “Sorry big sister,” Rita whispered.

“Don’t be.” Candice formed something close to a half-smile with her snout and turned away. She had always known that Rolo was a poor pay, but she did not trust any other blacksmith in the whole kingdom. No one can work at the speed he does, it helps that he doesn't need to sleep or eat that often, being a half-demon. Whatever. I’m quite picky with weapons, too. If the blade is less sharp than my claws, why bother?

Before leaving, she overheard Rolo giving instructions to his sister to deliver General Stein’s finished shield. I thought it wasn’t ready yet. Curious, Candice glanced back at Rolo who pulled out a magnificent, lustrous shield from a wooden box. You old rascal. The other was just a replica. Candice chuckled and went out back to the black wall.