It is not darkness. It is a miasma pierces through reality. Worldly objects disappear, while things that cannot be reveal themselves.

— Final Report on the Devoras’ Domain

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Sunset of the day of the promised meeting. Veera haunted the narrow alleys in the lower levels of the town with her ghostly presence. Humble homes of the less fortunate were good camouflage, and the people here did not stare at strangers for too long.

Here, beyond the walls of the inner city, Veera found a recess; a sinkhole large enough to swallow a house. The entrance was uncovered and unsupervised, unlike most other access points to the Devoras’ Domain. She would be able to enter without scrutiny — especially since most of the population prudently believed that even approaching the place would bring bad luck.

Below, Veera could see planks impaled on the walls, forming a spiral staircase to the depths. Moonlight would not serve as a source of light when venturing below, so she retrieved a lantern from beneath her cloak. With a tap of her finger, it glowed with no visible flame; instead, it used an enchanted tourmaline at its core. Veera adjusted the brightness and hue of the light into a ghastly white.

Before heading down, Veera afforded one last look at Clais. The ancient city was built on the edges of a steep hill where land met the Cradle Sea. At the highest point were three cylindrical towers with heights that defied modern engineering. The layout of the city around the towers made them look like spikes atop a crown. Some claimed these towers had been built using materials from the Devoras’ Domain, but such a claim was hard to verify. Neither the Old Royalty nor the Barons were keen on allowing people to know of their fortress’ layouts. Not that secrecy had mattered for the Old Royalty. The Barons challenged their power and their secrets died with them.

Gaining access to exotic materials for research (if they even existed) would further Veera’s interests, but she doubted someone with scales would ever be trusted with such information. In her calculations, it was not worth the effort.

The rest of the city’s construction was reminiscent of other cities in Claridia. The steep roofs were dotted with spikes and sharp edges. In a long gone age, these were preventive measures to route wyverns and make defending the city easier. Nowadays, they were an aesthetic choice that had stuck around.

Veera ended her contemplation and headed below. For a while, she descended the flimsy stairs with methodical movements, sceptical that these stacks of wood could sustain her weight. They proved to sustain her weight just fine. The hole’s diameter narrowed until Veera’s lantern light could reach the opposite side.

Veera disembarked from the stairs and stood on solid ground once more. Beneath her was ancient stone and metal, with designs of something only an intelligent mind could create. Much of the evidence of the Devoras was wiped by the entropy of time, but not even aeons could erase their impact on the surface of this planet.

Shadows encroached upon Veera in this moment of reflection and respite; it was best not to linger. She began moving toward the Coil Monument, a place only reachable from this entrance. It was strange that, despite no physical obstructions existing between this entrance and others, the tunnels did not connect. Space twisted itself to keep strangers out in this place. The Monument was far enough that no one would stumble upon it accidentally — not that many would willingly visit the underground — but close enough to the entrance to not be too dangerous. The deeper one went, the more prominent the Devoras’ dangers became.

The jagged paths and corridors were difficult to navigate. There were open areas as narrow encroachments from there to the Monument. The darkness played tricks on her, shaping and shifting the paths, hiding sharp protrusions in plain sight. But Veera had some previous experience in this dark underground and navigated it well. At the corner of her eyes, there were shadows that never revealed themselves to direct observation; malignant presences that searched for a point of entrance, physical or psychological. But Veera had the steady mind of a practised enchantress; lesser wills would not sway her.

She came upon a large open area, so tall and wide that, at first glance, looked as if it would violate the space of the city above and the sea nearby. Yet here it was, contained within the underground. Without precise tools, Veera could neither confirm nor deny whether this place could exist within a 3-manifold. Distances and sizes could be surprisingly deceitful even above ground, but she would not be surprised if normal the underground violated normal space.

A little light in the distance marked the foot of the Coil Monument. It was a statue protruding from the ground and twisting over itself like vines reaching for the surface. It was as large as a castle and defied its own weight with the narrow shapes it produced. Its purpose and history were unknown, no matter how many archaeologists it had attracted, trapped, and killed. A flytrap that caught and ate historians.

Once Veera approached, she could see a small figure sitting by one of the thorns of the Coil. He stood once he spotted Veera and they eyed each other warily. The person before her was a Claridian badger, a fourth or fifth of her size, wearing a worn out grey tunic with no cape or brand. The distinctive black and white fur of a badger was scraggly but clean. His only weapon was a silver dagger, proudly brandished on his leather belt. His brown eyes were attentive, scrutinising Veera. He tried to hold a look of disinterest, but it was clear that his mind was fast at work.

Seemingly intrigued, yet not intimidated by the unknown being before him, the badger lifted his lantern to get a better look. Veera’s pupils narrowed into thin slits as the light scanned her, but she did not flinch. Beneath her hood was a ceramic mask covering the top half of her head, shiny and black with gold trims and flourishes. Three sapphires beneath each eye hole shimmered, and the badger paused briefly to admire them. It was normal for reptiles to cover their face scales while in public, but Veera’s choice was an old design — knotted veils were in fashion as of late. Her face was long, with pointy teeth protruding from the sides like those of an alligator. She had two types of scales; the first were a rich purple, delicate, and iridescent under the shifting light; The second looked like interlocking plates, blue and sturdy, from her chin and down her neck.

Instead of ears, Veera had two great curled horns protruding from each side of her head. They were opalescent, with an ivory colour beneath their shimmer. Finally, there was a crest of blue feathers that began on her forehead, between the eyes, running down her back. The tip of her tail protruded from beneath her cloak, and hinted that her plumage was a feature of her entire back.

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Hiding Veera’s whole body was a cloak of black and gold. A hexagonal sapphire brooch sat in the middle, where her collar bone should be. It kept both halves of the cloak pinned. Along the sides of the cloak were two slits where Veera could slide her hands in and out if she so wished.

Veera knew the look on the badger’s face; it was not an unusual sight. Her amalgamation of features were being classified to their closest matching species. Alligator muzzle, goat horns, bird feathers… She was not a collage to be picked apart. Feathers bristled, but she contained a snarl.

“You’re early,” the badger finally said, lowering his light. Veera’s features faded away in the darkness until only her yellow eyes were easily discernible. “Do you have the beads?”

Veera nodded.

After another moment of scrutiny, the badger pushed himself off the wall, grabbed his torch, and headed between the twists of the Coil. A short walk from where they met was a little boat on a sprawling lake that extended beyond the reach of their lights. The badger signalled Veera to board first.

“Sit near the middle,” the badger said. Veera obliged.

The boat rocked with Veera’s weight and the badger gave her a puzzled stare, as if her apparent weight did not correspond with the vessel’s reaction. He secured his torch on the bow and settling on the stern with an oar. With effort, the little badger got the boat to move and rowed toward the thorns ahead. Veera found his dexterity surprising as he dodged obstacles and guided the boat between spikes.

Veera glanced between the badger and the path forward. Little could be revealed by staring at the coils before her, but her lingering curiosity followed the twisted paths of unknown material as if she was staring at artwork. Yet, behind her, she knew the little mammal was still staring at her.

The boat pivoted starboard, slowed, and stopped with a gentle thunk as it hit the rocky shore. Veera noticed the badger’s pride was wounded by the sound. He motioned for her to get off the boat and she exited the craft, leaving it to sway as her weight shifted off. The badger had to hold on.

Veera lifted her lantern and saw three silhouettes closing in, surrounding her. In that moment, the purpose of the travel became clear: a trap for someone searching for the Crystal Feathers. Did Leanne know? Or maybe it came from Archenchantress Celara herself. Veera felt angry just thinking the likes of Celara had tricked her.

“Alright, lady. You get it,” the badger gloated as the others lit torches of their own, looking relieved to banish the darkness. “Just hand over whatever money you brought and we’ll let you go. But you gotta promise to pretend we beat you up. We don’t wanna look too soft.”

There was a bison and an ibex, the former with a club and the latter with a rusty sword. Behind them was a swan with a bow, waiting to draw an arrow. The badger stayed behind, guarding the boat with a dagger. They all dressed similarly, grey tunics with unrecognisable faded colours, leather belts, barely fitting their individual shapes.

“C’mon, lady, just drop it on the ground,” the badger insisted. “We were hired to kill you, you know, but we’re going to be nice. Once my pals have the money, I’ll lead you to the shore. Deal?”

Veera glared at the badger behind her, and this simple movement was enough for the swan to draw her bow.

“Hired by whom?” Veera asked.

“By none of your business,” the badger retorted. “Last chance for us to be nice.”

Veera’s eyes jumped between the crew before she landed on the badger again. She moved toward him slowly. Alarmed, he got out of the way.

“So be it! Nash, Foster, soften up her scales,” he commanded, repositioning next to the swan.

The bison, Nash, and ibex, Foster, circled Veera until the latter was behind her, stopping her retreat, and the former approached from the front. Nash was a massive creature, bigger even than Veera, who was already quite tall herself. His club was heavy enough to crush a skull with ease, but the weight was unhandy even for the trunk-like arms. Despite this, Veera was not intimidated by size or weapon. She looked up at him defiantly.

Nash was close enough to hit her. He glanced back at the badger, who granted him permission to use his club. The club swung back slowly and gained speed as it approached Veera’s chest. There was enough momentum to pulverise a rib cage.

The club hit the cloak but found nothing underneath. No body, no resistance; it was like hitting loose sheets. Without the expected inelastic collision, the weapon’s momentum carried the bison, and he lost his footing. Veera exploited the moment. Her tail coiled around his ankle and pulled — just enough for him to trip. As the bison toppled, she reached for the back of his head and slammed it against the ground with a decisive motion. She readjusted her posture over the defeated mammal who laid unconscious on the floor, blood oozing from his snout.

Surprised, the thieves paused for a heartbeat.

The goose drew her bow and aimed at Veera’s chest and let the arrow fly while Foster, the ibex, lunged at her from behind. The arrow’s path was true and hit Veera in the middle of her cloak, where her chest should be — then it went straight through and lodged itself on Foster’s arm. Veera was unaffected while the ibex collapsed on the floor, cursing his companion.

Veera glanced back at Foster, glad one of her enemies had been defeated by sheer luck, and landed her eyes on the goose. She lunged toward the archer, watching her reach for another arrow, nock, aim. Veera was upon the bird, reached for the fragile neck just as another arrow was loose. It hit her mask — a near fatal shot through her eye — shattering its left side and cutting her face.

As painful as the cut was, it did not dissuade Veera. The goose’s neck was firmly in her claws. She lifted the goose up, and squeezed until the bird let go of her bow, then squeezed some more until she stopped moving. There was some temptation to keep going, snap that fragile neck, but Veera stopped and tossed the bird away.

Her final target was the badger. The little mammal drew his dagger with a shivering hand, retreating, reconsidering the possibly fatal decision. He lowered the weapon.

“Alright, you win,” he said. Veera closed in. “Let’s—look, it’s not personal, just a job. You get that, yeah?” Veera was upon him.

The badger tried to jump out of the way but Veera tripped him with her tail, and snatched him by the scruff of the neck. He thrust his weapon on her cloak, but the blade disappeared and his hand returned empty.

She parted her cloak in the middle, revealing a shifting darkness beneath, reflecting the dim light erratically and twisting Veera’s body into incomprehension.

“WAIT!” The badger begged, screamed, then went silent once he crossed the boundary of the cloak.

Veera searched for anyone still opposing her. The elk and goose were still unconscious, and the ibex had resigned himself to groaning in pain. She had won, but the gash on her face was as painful and the lack of Crystal Feathers made the whole endeavour unsuccessful.

She walked over her defeated foes and reached the boat, looking at the twisted path back to shore. Without the badger, her return would be long, perilous, and exhausting. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so hasty in making him disappear.

Veera groaned and grabbed the oar.