She woke up earlier than dawn, bathed in sweats and breathing hard. With haste, she dressed up in a thin material dress laced-up at the edges and puffy sleeves on the arms, a courtesy from dark tribe.

It was a cold-ass day. Smoothing a hand over the thin almost translucent fabric of lace and chiffon, she found the makings of it deterred cold temperature in spite of how thin the material looked like.

The attic room was padded with a large Persian-style rug over hardwood floors, she took it in and found the morning looked no different than night. Past the windows, she observed blue beaming lights from crystals glowing in the cave walls spilling its radiance in the inside of her room. Unless her internal clock was making a mistake, she was sure it’s already morning time.

There was a washing bowl propped to the side next to a mirror, splashed her face and neck and stared at her reflection.

A fucking rockband.

It wasn’t her style but a roommate of hers occasionally blares it out for the entire apartment to hear whenever he’s going through tough breaks. Rock songs on repeat in all its glory to the dismay of others. The classics from that era were indirectly instilled into her system like second-hand smoke. When Holden mentioned ‘Misery love its company’, it conjured up images of her life back at that dingy old apartment where the only saving grace she had back then were the impersonal friendships she had forged over the years.

The dark tribe prince had a lot tension boiling under his garish sweater, it really came through when they sang together. Him singing the growly parts and her accompanying his lead. They took a good long while practicing before he was ready to open up the doors, letting his insistent visitors in.

And he surprised her.

The moment the three curses came barreling inside, she sang the first line with a nervous heartbeat threatening to break her ribcage. Then when it came to his turn, he shouted at the top of his lungs with full commitment, jumping both feet on the ground that sent shockwaves on impact.

But the shadows of corruption didn’t give in that easy, it encircled around them searching for a moment of weakness. With Holden’s intensity shining through his song, it made easy it for River to get caught up with it and give as much as he was putting out. Together they sang against predatory shadows that loomed, threatening to suffocate them both.

River took one good look at the depths of its inky black and realized she was not afraid. She has been here before and there was nothing to be afraid of. Once her heartbeat settled to an even rhythm, the familiar heavy fog came rolling in out of thin air. It consumed the three curses in a blinding fog of grey and by the time their song ended, she glanced down her hands to see herself fading.

“No!” Holden ineffectually grabbed for her but she was thin as air. The bruises under his eyes were gone, his body gaining more volume. “Stay with me.” The words were roughened and raw, quickly followed by mewls of agreement.

Shocked, her gaze snapped from Holden to three animals in gigantic sizes. A blonde wolf flopping onto his front with eyes of sharp metal-grey. It locked on hers and he immediately hid his face using his paws. Right next to him was a heavyset bear sprawled on its front, scratching his head with large paws and behind them was a clumsy swan attempting to put its full weight on its webbed feet. The three looked to her in uneasy hesitance, shifting their glances sideways, unsure.

She had whispered to Holden, “Don’t they look cute?”

Their ears prickled at her direction, the swan stomping down to her in clumsy steps.

On instinct, she pushed out her arms to help the clumsy bird in case of a fall. Holden groaned his protest but it was too late. As if prompted, the three animals charged for her— lunging at her with a desperation that had her opening her arms wider for them. When they had reached her arms, they passed a windy space where her body should be. The impact of them smashing into River startling her awake.

She shook her shoulders loose, splashed some more water on her face and toweled off. The disconcerting feeling upon their impact left a marked imprint, a heavy smog that swirled behind her sternum. Since waking up, she could swear she would see the animals lingering around the periphery at the corner of her eye like a bomb waiting to detonate. But they weren’t there. Not really. Could have been her imagination. Chills spiking up in anxiety, she had to remember the breathing exercises like Dr. Malia taught.

Once her nerves settled, she left the room in search for some oracle brothers and food. Not necessarily in that order.

The brother’s home was the apothecary shop, doubling as their home and business. The way downstairs from the attic was a spiral going down and it didn’t exert much effort to climb, more like a stroll. She could get used to a stair like this. The hallway as she reached the bottom were circular in design much like its domed building exterior. There were no doors in sight, only open archways to other rooms. The circular hallway spiraled downwards to a living space next to a kitchen.

“Behagthi!” Na’reem greeted with a bright smile. He pulled a tray from a brick-fire oven and with his other hand, served up a platter of fruits, nuts and meat. “I take it you’re partial to sun tribe cuisine?”

“Is this for me?” It was a masterful platter piled high with stocks of different-colored food. The smells were wonderfully strong as it was vibrant.

Me’ren came in behind River, his hair a mess like he had just slipped out of bed. “Don’t call her behagthi, idiot. One more time and you’ll alert the settlement about a most wanted bounty across lands.”

“There’s a bounty on me?” She murmured more to herself. Not having used to a life laden with so much changes. A week ago, she woke up to another universe after having been transported from a different universe. The tiny tidbits of facts around cultural changes were something her brain was having a hard time getting used to.

Me’ren glanced at her with a world-weary sigh as he took a seat next to her on the kitchen counter.

Na’reem coming up across them and placed a cup of coffee in front of his brother, “It’s just us here. No worries. No one will hear.” He chuckled lightly “I should know.”

Me’ren stared back hard at his brother with a scowl and sipped at his coffee.

River perked up and set her spine straight, “Good morning Na’reem, and good morn—“ the glare Me’ren shot at her made her stop. She smiled nervously, “Thank you for having me crash here last night.”

Na’reem hummed under his breath while he poured a pot of coffee to a couple more cups, pushing one of them next to her plate. “A deal is deal. That was quite a show last night, how did you sleep?”

His question conjured flashes of last night's dream. Of a prince hiding away in a crumbling throne room while curses of corruption encircled his castle like shadows. She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. The way he sang was raw, passionate like he was baring his soul. And the way he held onto her, wishing to be brought back hit close to home that it tear away at her soul to refuse him.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Off to the side of the kitchen, an amber glow flared from beyond an archway in the room next to them. It was from a strong fireplace and from a large chandelier sporting candle-waxed flames. Its warm light flowed in extension to the kitchen where a brickfire oven already spun flickers of heat.

“How I slept? Wouldn’t you already know?” She said to Na’reem.

“River, is it?” He rested his elbows on the counter, leaning down level with her. “I have a feeling you already know my secret.”

At the back of her mind, surges of Lei’la and Holden came whispering. What they told her of the oracle brothers in this universe of a strange moon was sickening, but her chest was at ease. And perhaps it was because she was slow to wake up early-- or these two brothers were charming her with brilliant food and warm firelights. Either way it was working and she felt better than she ever had in weeks. After taking two careful bites off her platter, she replied “Scary, isn’t it? The not knowing.”

Na’reem uttered it so low she could barely hear it. “Yes.”

A sip from her warm drink loosened her tongue, her response coming out without thought “That why you have us behagthis killed?”

He gave her a widespread grin, “You aren’t as dumb as we thought you are. Foolish as expected, but not dumb.”

"Na'reem, I am as dumb as they come. Insane, even. But that's just how Brumcia likes her behagthis, yes?"

His brow arched in surprise, "You know your lore. Interesting. The few behagthis we came to know didn't have a single clue to what they're here for."

She picked at her food, appetite gone since he hadn't answered her most pressing question. "You have us behagthis killed. In turn, this universe has gone to shit because of it. And you want me, a behagthi, to fix it for you?"

Me'ren's fist slammed down on the table. "We don't need your help. I know what you came here for. You can have it and get gone."

"Aren't you supposed to be blind to my past, oracle?"

He shifted to fully face her, wrinkles forming between his brows "Doesn't mean I can't see the past of everyone else. And I see Lei'la's. After she and U'tu are done with their honorary prayers, I will speak to her of her potential. So both of you and snow prince can leave immediately."

"If you're so eager for us to leave then why didn't you speak to her yesterday? She was right there. We could have had this over and done with yesterday."

He stared at her.

"You couldn't know, can you?" A crust of sleep formed at the side of his eye, and she brushed it off with a pad of her thumbs. "Does your power involve dreams too?"

A flash of shock crossed his features, "H-how would you—?" he cut himself quiet.

“Strange things happen to me too when I dream. I was just having a guess. I don't actually expect everyone else having it. Do you?"

"You have us at a disadvantage" said Na'reem, his back lounging next to the kitchen sink. "You know our secret identities, how Me'ren's power works, but we know nothing about yours."

An exciting thrill buzzed through her "I was right, wasn't I? That affirms it. Your oracle past info shows in your dreams. Does it work the same way with you, Na'reem?"

His cheeks creased as he grinned, but his amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. "Out of my brothers, I'm well-to-do in terms of discipline. I can selectively choose my focus to any parts of the world and my eyes will see all. No madness. No disturbing compulsions. So long as I choose to do it twice a day, then I'm well and good in my sanity." A dry laugh shook his shoulders "I can't remember the last time I've had to explain my powers to someone. It's off-putting, to say the least."

Me'ren murmured, setting down his cup after a long hearty swig from it. "One thousand, six hundred and eighty-seven years ago. During our first reunion, you told us how you fixed yourself." A muscle twitched in his cheek. "We were so proud of you."

Na'reem's smile grew crooked. "Jealous too."

"And jealous." he nodded. "Sul'ahvi and I are proud of you. You should know that."

"Brother, please. Don't embarrass me in front of our guest."

They truly care for each other. The apparent ease between them was palpable like nothing was out of place. As if they understood at a level where it wasn't visible to the naked eye. "If you're having trouble." said River. "I could try and help."

Me'ren turned cold as he addressed her. "No more behagthis. Go back to where you came from."

She huffed, tamping down her spark of temper. "Fine. I'll do just that. Soon as Lei'la gets her answers and I can—" eyes widening, she jumped to her feet.

Oh, she was so stupid. Why hasn't she figured it out sooner? Tribespeople were built in ungodly, inhuman size that it was hard to miss if they truly were out-of-proportion.

"I beg your pardon?" Na'reem asked, crossing his arms.

Damn. She must have said her thoughts out loud. "I noticed it before. I thought it was a slight level of change from different universes." she began pacing "Like how different countries can be exotic, you know? You don't question at something that's different, it's in poor taste. But—" she looked at Me'ren and Na'reem, tipped her chin up and really looked at them.

And there it was.

Lower muscle density.

Raising on her tiptoes, she brushed Na'reem's brown curls with the back of her hands. It had no life to it. Stringent and brittle to the touch. "You didn't always look like this.” She guessed, taking a wild stab in the dark. “What has gotten into you?"

He bent forward at the waist, brown curls falling over his forehead. At the back of his neck, veins protruded from his skin like a bruise. The sight had her stumbling back. The veins visibly swelled like it had a heartbeat.

"How do I help you?"

"You can't." barked Me'ren.

"Why are you so opposed to me helping?"

"Because with behagthis, it always goes wrong before it gets right. And we can't afford any more casualties." His fist tightened around his coffee cup. "We already got a plan. We don't need your help."

The gall. The audacity. River seethed in her thoughts. They were perfectly fine killing off behagthis for the sake of the better good. And they won’t even take a chance for a real solution. "Even if mine is fool-proof?"

They both laughed. A dark, rumbly laugh full of mocking irony "Good one." said Na'reem.

"I'm being serious. I've done it many times before."

"That's impossible."

Me'ren leaned back on his chair, straightening and addressing her with cold-hard confidence. "Behagthis have a great wildness in them. They share it with Natura Brumcia. It's what pulled you through universes in the first place. Your wildness are similar to our absent goddess.” His gaze raked over her, “Chaos? You are built for it, behagthi. Do you know how much trouble and sanity it cost to have the last behagthi fixed our world? It took him 349 years of breaking things apart before he finally figured out how to piece us together. The likes of you are unfeeling, cold, and rational to a fault. I've seen behagthis tore through our history as if we tribespeople are mere playthings to be toyed with. We don't need your kind of help, we got it all under control."

"First of all, don't lump me with the rest of behagthis. Second, aren't behagthis supposed to be unique in every way?"

Me’ren scoffed. "What you behagthis have all got in spades are death and macabre."

"I don't— I have never—" she stuttered at the face of his impaired view. Never in her life had she been accused of murder. "I help and save lives, that's what I do. And that's what I've been doing without fail so far. My name is River and you can' talk to me like that. I won't take it."

"He's right, brother."

Me'ren's intensity bore down on her so long that she began to shrink under his gaze. It annoyed her to feel that way that she crossed to reach him, stomped her foot like a petulant child and said. "If you've been doing so well, then where the fuck has Sul'ahvi gone? Shouldn't he be here?"

A tension-filled silence fell upon them. Even as they turned away, she still caught their distraught expression. At a tone void of emotion, Na'reem said "He's at his room. Resting. He's always resting. Nothing could be done about it."

"Fuck that." she cut through the heavy silence, and marched forward out the kitchen. "I'll bring him back."