Master Cainen Draslyn sat back in his chair, his cigar hanging loosely from his lips, a cloud of fragrant smoke curling lazily around his head. Despite his intimidating presence, the atmosphere in the room was oddly relaxed, with the soft crackle of the fireplace providing a gentle backdrop to the conversation. He had an air about him, that kind of quiet authority that didn’t need to be enforced—just being in the room with him was enough to remind everyone he was in charge. But there was also something else. A subtle ease, like a man who didn’t mind letting a conversation run off course as long as it eventually found its way back.
“So, Yasmin,” Draslyn said, taking a long drag of his cigar and letting the smoke out in a slow exhale. “About that mission we were talking about earlier…”
Yasmin, perched on the edge of her chair, hands moving excitedly as she talked, waved him off for a moment. “Oh, come on, Master! I’m just saying, if we tweaked the elemental balance on the last clean-up crew’s spellwork, we wouldn’t have had that blast radius problem in the first place!”
Adrian groaned, rubbing his temples. “Are we still talking about that? You nearly leveled a whole building, Yasmin. And wasn’t it just supposed to be a simple training session?”
Yasmin shrugged, her fiery hair bouncing with the movement. “Details, details. It was under control—until it wasn’t.”
“Yasmin,” Draslyn cut in smoothly, a bemused smile on his face, “while I appreciate your enthusiasm for... experimentation, we have other things to discuss.”
Yasmin opened her mouth, probably to defend her chaotic ways yet again, but Draslyn held up a hand, cigar still nestled between his fingers. “Before we get too far off track again, there’s a caravan coming up from Emberfall through the Sand Pass. Biggest caravan raid we’ve seen in years. Bandits—lots of them—and some Jade Tier beast tamers to boot.”
Ayla, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, straightened up at the mention of the beast tamers. “Jade Tier?” she asked, her voice carrying a note of surprise. “That’s... significant.”
“Significant,” Draslyn echoed with a nod. “And dangerous. We’ve got a vested interest in making sure that caravan makes it to Windmere intact. Word on the street is it’s carrying something... valuable. But we don’t know what yet. What we do know is that the bandits are not your run-of-the-mill thieves.”
Paola, who had been quietly resting her chin in her hand, groaned. “More fighting? I swear, if I see another sword pointed at me, I’m going to start charging for this kind of service.”
Poca grinned mischievously, nudging Paola. “Oh? I zought you were charging, Paola! Or 'ave you been fightin' for free zis whole time? Such a generous soul you are!” She gave a dramatic sigh, putting a hand to her chest. “Zat explains why you’re always so tired—you’re running a charity!"
Ayla, smirking, gave Paola a sideways glance. “Maybe it’s time you start collecting a fee for every fight you’ve survived. You’d be rich by now.”
Adrian, leaning against the wall with a grin on his face, jumped in. “Or you could join the guild. We have a nice little stipend, plenty of jobs to choose from, and best of all, no shortage of chaos to keep you on your toes.”
Ayla rolled her eyes but didn’t miss a beat. “You sound just like Yasmin.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Yasmin said, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “Just because I’m a walking cataclysm doesn’t mean I’m out there asking for chaos. It just… happens around me.”
Paola gave Yasmin a flat look. “I wonder why.”
Draslyn chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the room. “You’ll get used to it. Or maybe not. Either way, I’d appreciate your help with this caravan business. If you're up for it?”
Ayla looked like she was about to say something, but Paola leaned in, her voice slightly exasperated. “Look, Draslyn, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve been in more fights recently than we have time to recover from. We need a break. And Ayla’s supposed to head back to Lady Marcelline soon. We’re kind of overdue.”
Draslyn raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Lady Marcelline, eh? I’ve heard quite a bit about her. You serve directly under her, Ayla?”
Ayla nodded, her expression respectful but guarded. “I do.”
“Ah, the Sword Maidens of Valarian. An impressive order,” Draslyn mused, puffing on his cigar thoughtfully. “But I have to say, you’d be an incredible asset here at the Forge. Have you ever thought about broadening your horizons?”
Ayla blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Joining the Arcane Forge?”
“Why not?” Adrian added, jumping in with a grin. “You’ve got natural dual affinities, for one. Fire and ice, both at your command. And you clearly know your way around a battlefield. You’d fit right in.”
Ayla shifted uncomfortably. “I’m... not sure.”
Paola noticed the flicker of uncertainty in Ayla’s eyes. Ayla wasn’t one to show hesitation, especially when it came to matters of duty. But there it was, plain as day.
Draslyn leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Think about it. We don’t rush things here. You could learn a lot, develop your magic in ways you haven’t even considered. And believe me, fire and ice? That’s a combination we don’t see every day.”
Paola smirked, sensing Ayla’s discomfort. “She’s probably just worried about all the paperwork,” she teased.
Ayla shot her a glare, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “It’s not that.”
Yasmin, ever the opportunist, leaned over with a mischievous grin. “It’s not the paperwork. She’s just afraid she’ll have to deal with me on a regular basis.”
Ayla crossed her arms, looking amused. “That... might actually be it.”
The room erupted in laughter, and for a moment, the tension seemed to dissipate. Even Draslyn, normally so composed, allowed himself a chuckle before he took another drag of his cigar.
When the laughter subsided, Draslyn glanced around the room, his dark eyes sharp again. “In all seriousness, I understand if you’re not ready to jump into another fight. But the Arcane Forge could use all the help it can get right now. Bandits, beast tamers... this isn’t something we can ignore. And Yasmin here could use some backup.”
Yasmin perked up at that, a sly smile forming on her lips. “I can handle it on my own, but I wouldn’t mind some company. You know, in case things get... interesting.”
“Interesting?” Paola raised an eyebrow. “With you? That’s a guarantee.”
Yasmin grinned. “Exactly.”
Poca, sensing the group’s hesitation, chimed in with her usual optimism. “We 'ave fought worse, 'aven’t we? And if zis is important, maybe we should consider it. After all, we are already 'ere.”
Paola sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re too reasonable, Poca. It’s annoying.”
Adrian chuckled from his spot by the wall. “If it helps, this mission comes with a decent reward. Not to mention the satisfaction of knowing you’re helping keep the roads safe for trade. Important stuff.”
Paola shot him a dry look. “You’re really selling it, Adrian.”
He grinned. “Just doing my job.”
Draslyn leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Look, I’m not twisting your arm. But if you’re interested, the offer’s there. Help Yasmin with the caravan, see what the bandits are after, and maybe—just maybe—figure out what’s causing all this chaos in the first place.”
Ayla, still clearly mulling things over, glanced at Paola and Poca. “What do you two think?”
Paola shrugged, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her reluctance. “We’re in this together, right? Might as well see where it takes us. And besides,” she added, casting a smirk at Yasmin, “someone needs to keep an eye on the Walking Cataclysm.”
Yasmin beamed. “You’re too kind.”
Poca gave a thoughtful nod, her eyes softening as she looked at Paola and Ayla. “I am with you both. Whatever we decide, I will follow.”
Draslyn took one last drag of his cigar before stubbing it out in the ashtray on his desk. He stood, his imposing figure casting long shadows in the firelight. “Sounds like we have ourselves a plan, then.”
Before Paola could respond, Yasmin jumped to her feet, clapping her hands together. “Perfect! We’ll take down those bandits, save the caravan, and be back in time for drinks.”
Paola groaned. “Please tell me you’re not in charge of the drinks.”
Yasmin winked. “Oh, I definitely am.”
As the room filled with laughter once again, Paola felt the warmth of camaraderie settle around her. Despite her earlier reluctance, there was something oddly comforting about the banter, the way they could joke even in the face of danger. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
As the laughter finally subsided, Master Draslyn’s face grew more serious, and he stood, commanding the room once more. The firelight flickered over his sharp features as he walked to a large map spread across a nearby table. With the tip of his finger, he traced a path across the terrain, a worn trail etched into the parchment that led through the Sand Pass.
"The bandit camp is here," Draslyn said, tapping a spot on the map. "Roughly a day’s journey from Windmere. They hit the caravan a couple of days ago, and our scouts estimate they have over three dozen hostages—the merchants, drivers, and anyone who survived the initial attack. The guards they hired are mostly dead, but a few are unaccounted for. So, we’re looking at a rescue mission."
His eyes swept the room, the gravity of the situation settling over them. Paola noticed how casually the word “rescue” was used. On Earth, that word would have come with a whole protocol, planning, negotiation—anything to avoid bloodshed. But here in Udanara, the word “rescue” had an entirely different meaning. It meant getting those people back, no matter the cost. The fact that Draslyn wasn’t even blinking at the thought made her stomach tighten.
“We need to go in and neutralize the bandits,” Draslyn continued, “but make no mistake: this isn’t about diplomacy. We’re leaving nothing behind. The goal is to save the hostages, eliminate the threat, and recover whatever it is they were after in the caravan.”
Paola blinked, the cold efficiency of his words snapping her out of her thoughts. Her Earth brain, as she called it, was still adjusting to the reality of Udanara’s harshness. The casual way they all talked about killing, about taking lives, even in the name of saving others—it was a brutal logic, but it was the only logic that seemed to make sense here.
Ayla, ever composed and focused, stepped forward, her eyes locked on the map. “How many bandits are we looking at?”
Draslyn tapped the map again, this time with more force. “At least fifty, maybe more. And we know for sure they’ve got at least three Jade Tier beast tamers among them. The beasts they control are likely their first line of defense.”
Yasmin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, leaned forward, her amber eyes scanning the map. “Beast tamers, huh? So, we’re talking about big targets first, then? Break through their beasts, disrupt their control, and the bandits will panic.”
Draslyn nodded, his gaze turning to Yasmin. “Exactly. You’ll be our artillery. Focus on the tamers and their creatures—take them out before they can rally.”
Yasmin grinned, but her expression wasn’t just one of excitement—it was sharp, calculating. “Got it. I’ll hold back the big stuff until we’re sure we’ve got a good shot. We don’t want to risk hurting the hostages. I’ll need to get close enough to control the blast radius.”
Paola found herself glancing at Yasmin, both fascinated and uneasy. The woman’s chaotic magic had always seemed so reckless, so wild. But here, Yasmin was speaking with a surprising level of tactical awareness, like she was already visualizing the battlefield, seeing the moving pieces in her mind. Paola wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried.
Ayla, her broadsword strapped to her back, was next to speak. “I’ll take point with Paola. We’ll need to be quick and efficient, especially if we’re going in against beasts. My sword should be able to handle the tougher ones, but we’ll need to move fast if we’re going to get to the hostages before they’re moved or used as leverage.”
Draslyn nodded again, clearly pleased. “You and Paola will be the strike team. Get in, neutralize any immediate threats, and secure the hostages. Yasmin will provide long-range support, and we’ll keep Poca here on healing duty. You’ll need to stay back, Poca, keep a safe distance so you can mend wounds without getting caught in the crossfire.”
Poca, who had been quiet until now, gave a small nod. “Oui, I understand. I’ll be ready to heal anyone who needs it, but I won’t get in ze way.”
Draslyn’s eyes turned to Paola, who had been staring at the map, trying to process everything. “You with us, Paola?” he asked, his tone firm but not unkind.
She snapped back to the present, realizing she had been zoning out. Her heart was racing as her mind flickered between the two worlds she straddled. Earth, where this kind of mission would have been handled with layers of negotiations and maybe a SWAT team. And Udanara, where they were about to storm a camp full of bandits and beast tamers with the same ease as ordering lunch.
“I’m... yeah, I’m with you,” Paola said, though her voice sounded distant even to her own ears. She glanced at Ayla, her steady presence calming her nerves slightly. Ayla was born for this kind of thing, and even though it sometimes unnerved Paola how easily Ayla could switch into her Sword Maiden persona, it also gave her confidence. If Ayla could handle this, so could she.
Yasmin, clearly sensing the tension, flashed her a grin. “Don’t worry, Paola. You’ll get to stab plenty of people. It’ll be fun.”
Paola shot her a look. “Fun?”
Yasmin shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Well, for me, at least.”
Ayla, sensing Paola’s discomfort, stepped in. “This is just how things are done here. I know it’s... different, but we’ve been through worse. You’ve been through worse. We’ll handle this like we’ve handled everything else.”
Paola nodded, though the knot in her stomach didn’t quite loosen. She hated that she was getting used to this—used to the idea that survival meant fighting, that saving people sometimes meant taking lives. She glanced at the map again, tracing the lines of the pass with her eyes.
Yasmin was already talking strategy with Draslyn, her fingers tapping along the map as she mapped out attack points. “We’ll come in from the east side,” Yasmin suggested, “where the ridge is lower. That way, I can get a clear line of sight on the tamers before we make contact. Once I take out the first beast, it’ll give Ayla and Paola time to close the gap.”
Draslyn nodded, puffing on his cigar. “Good. But be careful—those tamers aren’t just going to stand there and let you take them out. They’ll be coordinating their beasts, and if we don’t time this right, they could use the hostages as a shield.”
Yasmin’s grin faded slightly, replaced with a more serious expression. “I’ll aim low, take out the beasts first. Once the tamers are unguarded, they won’t be much of a threat.”
Ayla, listening intently, added, “If they’re smart, they’ll try to retreat the moment their beasts go down. We’ll need to be ready for a quick chase. Paola and I can take care of that.”
Paola’s ears flicked involuntarily at the mention of her name. She felt herself being pulled back into the conversation, the weight of the mission pressing down on her. She was agile, quick, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for something like this. It wasn’t like fighting off a couple of rogue magists or defending themselves from an ambush—this was going to be full-scale warfare.
Poca, sensing the unease, stepped closer to Paola, her hand finding hers. Paola looked down at their intertwined fingers, feeling a strange sense of comfort despite the tension in the room.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Zis will be hard,” Poca whispered softly, leaning in. “But you’ve been through worse. We ‘ave been through worse. And Ayla—she is strong. We will be okay.”
Paola gave her a small, appreciative smile. Poca had a way of calming her that she couldn’t quite explain. Even in the most dire moments, Poca’s unwavering optimism somehow made everything seem less impossible.
Across the room, Adrian leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “You’ve got a solid plan,” he said, nodding approvingly. “But just remember—beast tamers aren’t the only problem. They’re smart enough to have backup. Don’t let your guard down just because you think you’ve taken out the big guns.”
Draslyn, ever the pragmatist, added, “Agreed. We’re walking into a nest of vipers, and we have to treat it as such. Get in, rescue the hostages, eliminate the threat. And Yasmin, keep the explosions to a minimum.”
Yasmin huffed dramatically. “Fine, fine. Minimum explosions. But no promises if things get out of hand.”
Ayla snorted, glancing at Paola with a knowing smirk. “Better get used to that.”
Master Draslyn leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking over to Paola with a curious tilt of his brow. "Do you need a ride back to your place, or...?" He let the offer hang in the air, casual but clearly extending the hospitality of the Arcane Forge.
Before Paola could answer, Poca perked up, her stitched smile widening. "Oh, no, no need, monsieur! We ‘ave a ride already! Carter and ze wagon are back at ze Sailor’s Rest, waiting with Paola’s familiar. Zank you, but we are all set!"
Draslyn’s interest piqued at the mention of a familiar. His eyes narrowed slightly, a wisp of cigar smoke curling from his mouth. “A familiar, huh? What kind?”
Paola hesitated, scratching the back of her neck. "Uh… it’s a Chaos Cub."
Draslyn’s eyebrow shot up. "A Chaos Cub, you say?" He sighed, leaning forward, placing both elbows on the table as he met Paola’s gaze. "Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into with that thing?"
Paola blinked, her tail flicking slightly in confusion. "He’s… getting kind of big, I guess? But he’s sweet. Just, you know, a bit protective."
Draslyn rubbed his temples, as if trying to gather the patience to explain. “Sweet now, sure. But that Chaos Cub? It’s only the beginning.”
Paola furrowed her brows as Draslyn continued. “You’re dealing with a creature whose potential is... well, let’s say 'immense' is an understatement. It’s cute now, all big eyes and oversized paws, but once it hits its Havoc Bear phase, you’ll start noticing things get a little more chaotic—pun intended. And if you’re lucky enough to keep it bonded to you, it’ll eventually become an Anarchy Beast. That’s no small feat. At that point, you’re looking at a creature capable of tearing through space itself, unleashing rifts and storms of chaos.”
Paola’s mouth went dry as he detailed the stages of the Chaos Cub’s growth. From a playful, clumsy creature to something far more dangerous. The final form—Anarchy Beast—sent a chill down her spine. She hadn’t exactly considered the full scope of what she had bonded with.
“And don’t get me started on the abilities," Draslyn added with a smirk, listing off the terrifying-sounding powers. "Rift Rend? Abyssal Surge? You sure you’re ready for that?”
Paola blinked slowly, her mind racing. She looked over at Ayla, hoping for some backup, but even Ayla seemed impressed by the descriptions, her expression unreadable as she leaned back in her chair.
"I—uh—" Paola stammered, unsure how to respond. "He’s just... I mean, right now, he’s just big and protective, but sweet. Is it really going to be that bad?" Paola squished her face up in confusion.
Draslyn chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "Bad? No, not bad. Just… powerful. You’re bonding with one of the rarest creatures in Udanara. But, hey, I’m sure you’ll handle it."
Yasmin, who had been leaning against the doorframe listening in, snorted with amusement. "Oh, this is going to be fun to watch. I bet that cub will be bigger than you soon, Paola."
Paola opened her mouth to protest, but before she could find the words, Poca stood up, clapping her hands to break the tension. "Alright, enough chit-chat! We ‘ave our plan! Now we go back to ze Sailor’s Rest, oui? Trust me zis time—I know ze way!"
Paola shot her a skeptical glance but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You sure, Poca? You said that last time, and we ended up in the wrong district.”
Poca puffed her chest out with mock indignation, the stitches along her lips pulling tight as she grinned. "Zis time, you will see. I know exactly where I am going!"
The group gathered their things, and after confirming the final details of the mission, they made their way out of the Arcane Forge. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft golden light over the streets of Windmere.
As they walked, Ayla fell into step beside Paola, her usual composed self. “You seem a little pale, Paola. Chaos Cub growing up too fast for you?” she teased lightly, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Paola sighed, glancing at her feet as they padded along the stone street. “I just didn’t realize what I’d gotten myself into. An Anarchy Beast? Rift Rend? What even is that?” She threw her hands up in mild exasperation.
Ayla chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Paola’s shoulder. "Don’t worry, Paola. You’re not the first person to bond with something dangerous in this world. You’ll adapt, just like you always do."
Poca skipped a few steps ahead, twirling in a carefree motion. "And we ‘ave Carter to protect us too, right? What more could we need?"
Paola snorted, shaking her head. "Yeah, Carter and his creepy grin."
Yasmin, who had been lingering behind them, called out, "I wish I could give directions, but I usually fly... I don't know the streets." Yasmin laughed awkwardly as she trotted behind.
As the banter carried on, the streets of Windmere began to grow quieter. They passed under a large stone bridge, the shadows beneath it cool and welcoming. Poca glanced up at the overpass, momentarily distracted by the intricate carvings etched into the stone. She stopped suddenly and pointed dramatically.
"Zis way!" she declared with confidence.
Paola and Ayla exchanged amused glances but followed her lead. The winding streets of Windmere spiraled down towards the docks in a gentle curve, the sound of the ocean becoming louder the closer they got.
Poca stopped again to ask a passerby for directions, her thick accent causing the person to hesitate for a moment before pointing them in the right direction. “See? I knew zat!” Poca huffed as they carried on.
Paola couldn’t help but smile at Poca’s endearing cluelessness when it came to directions. She was terrible at it, but somehow, it never bothered Paola. Poca’s joy was infectious, and even Ayla seemed more at ease.
As they neared The Sailor’s Rest, Draslyn’s earlier words echoed in Paola’s mind. Anarchy Beast. She shook her head, trying to picture her Chaos Cub, Oso, growing into some massive, rift-tearing creature. It was surreal, but at the same time, there was a flicker of excitement mixed in with the nerves.
Just then, they rounded a corner, and the familiar sight of the wagon came into view. Oso, Paola’s Chaos Cub, was sitting in the back, his large, sandy form already starting to lose some of its cub-like features. His deep violet eyes glinted as they caught sight of her, and his ears perked up. Next to him, Carter sat motionless, his carved-on grin just as unnerving as ever. The two together made for a strange but oddly comforting sight.
“Well,” Yasmin said with a grin, "there’s your Chaos Cub, Paola. Still looks pretty harmless to me."
Paola rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. She walked over to Oso, who immediately bounded out of the wagon to greet her, his oversized paws clumsy as he nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Hey, big guy," Paola murmured, scratching behind his ears. "Guess we’ve got some work ahead of us, huh?"
Oso let out a happy huff, nuzzling into her hand as the rest of the group gathered around the wagon.
Poca, still brimming with energy, clapped her hands. "Alright! Now zat we are back, let’s rest up and prepare for ze mission! Let's go, we shall show zose bandits what we are made of!"
Ayla chuckled, glancing at Paola. "At least we won’t get lost on the way to the mission."
Paola groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. "Don’t jinx it, Ayla. You know with Poca leading the way, anything’s possible."
Poca crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Oh, très drôle, Paola. Très drôle."
The air was still, cool, as the wagon creaked along the worn dirt path, heading east toward the Sand Pass. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a soft glow over the landscape as Poca sat at the reins with Carter beside her, his silent, wooden face as stoic as ever. Paola watched them from her seat near the back of the wagon, her thoughts turning over everything that had happened in the last few hours.
They had debated staying the night at The Sailor's Rest, but it was Yasmin and Ayla who both agreed on traveling through the night. There were hostages at risk, and time wasn’t on their side. Paola had agreed, and Poca, ever flexible, had shrugged, not minding either way.
As they settled into the wagon, Yasmin had taken her place at the front, leaning back comfortably as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She sat with her legs crossed, her hand resting gently on Oso, who was lazily chewing on her leather boot. Poca and Carter shared a quiet exchange at the reins. Paola had watched as Poca handed him the small wooden figure that Abraham had carved—a tiny replica of Carter himself. There had been a moment of strange emotion in the puppet’s silent response. Carter had looked down at the figure, then back at Poca, then held it to his chest before they finally set off.
Now, they were deep into the night, the stars above like a map of endless possibility, the road stretching out before them as the only sound was the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the occasional snuffle from Oso as he drifted off to sleep. Paola could feel the tension building within her, though, not from fear, but from the weight of what they were about to do.
She glanced across the wagon at Ayla, who sat opposite her. Ayla’s gaze met hers, but neither spoke for a while. They’d ridden in silence for a couple of hours, each lost in their own thoughts, occasionally exchanging looks but saying nothing. Paola, half tempted to pull out her guitar, resisted the urge. Tonight didn’t feel like the time for music. Not with what was coming.
Her mind drifted to Draslyn and Adrian, thinking about how they had tried to recruit Ayla into the Arcane Forge. The memory made her smile—seeing Ayla on the spot like that had been amusing. Though, Paola had to admit, they were nice enough for guild members. But still, the mission ahead was on her mind, and the peaceful lull of the night was a sharp contrast to the violence they were about to dive into.
Suddenly, Ayla’s soft voice broke the silence. “Paola... Can I ask you something?” There was a hesitance in her tone, something gentler than usual.
Paola blinked, pulled from her thoughts. “Mhm?” She made the sound, half paying attention, curious but not yet fully engaged.
Ayla glanced over at Yasmin, who was fast asleep, petting Oso’s thick fur as she leaned against one of the barrels. Satisfied she wouldn’t wake the fiery magist, Ayla turned back to Paola. "I’ve been wondering about your past... your life before this. Earth, right?"
Paola raised her brows, not expecting that question. She tilted her head, intrigued. "Yeah, Earth." She paused, then asked, "What about it?"
Ayla shifted in her seat, her eyes flicking up to the starry sky before settling on Paola again. “I was curious about… your relationships there. What they were like.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “If it’s okay to ask about.”
Paola chuckled softly, surprised by the question. She didn’t mind, though. Her past wasn’t something she thought about much anymore, but tonight, under the stars, it didn’t feel as heavy. She stretched out her legs and placed her feet in Ayla’s lap, her tail flicking lazily as she leaned back against the wagon’s side. Her loose ponytail draped over the edge, swaying gently with the wagon’s movements.
Paola took a breath, looking up at the canopy of stars above. “My dad... he didn’t allow me to date. Said I couldn’t have boyfriends until I moved out,” she began, her voice soft, reflective. “But, you know... I didn’t really listen to him. I dated anyway. I think part of it was just... wanting to be loved, you know? Like, really loved. My first boyfriend... I was so blind to everything. He cheated on me, and I didn’t even see it coming.”
Ayla’s gaze softened as she listened, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on Paola’s ankle. She nodded, silently encouraging her to continue.
“After that,” Paola continued, “I jumped straight into another relationship. It was a rebound, I guess, but I didn’t see it that way at the time. That one... that one lasted years, too. But it was... bad. Really bad. We fought all the time, but I stayed. Got stuck, I guess.”
Paola sighed, her voice growing quieter. “Then there was Devon. My most recent one... before all this.” She waved her hand vaguely, indicating their strange new world. “We tried. But we were both going nowhere. No direction, no real future. It was like... we were just hanging on because we didn’t know what else to do. We argued a lot, and I knew it wasn’t working, but... ending it was still hard. But I did. I broke it off because I wanted to start fresh.”
Ayla was silent for a moment, taking it all in. Her fingers still traced those soft lines on Paola’s skin, grounding her. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” Ayla said gently. “Starting fresh... that’s hard.”
Paola nodded, her gaze still on the stars. “Yeah. But I wanted more. I didn’t want to keep going down that dead-end road, you know?”
Ayla smiled softly, her eyes warm. “I get that.” She hesitated before asking, “Do you ever... miss it? That world?”
Paola thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “Not really. I mean, I miss certain things. But... I don’t miss the dead ends. Here, it’s different. There’s more... life, more to fight for.”
Ayla nodded, her fingers gently squeezing Paola’s leg. “You’re right. There’s a lot to fight for here.”
Paola glanced at her, catching the meaning behind Ayla’s words. They both knew what she was talking about—fighting for each other, for the bonds they had formed in this strange, chaotic world. A warmth spread through Paola’s chest as she looked from Ayla to Poca, who sat at the front of the wagon, deep in conversation with Carter. The two women who had somehow, unexpectedly, captured her heart.
Ayla shifted, her voice a little lighter now. “You know... I don’t think I would’ve ever asked you about that stuff back in Valarian. Funny how things change.”
Paola chuckled, her tail flicking playfully as she nudged Ayla’s leg with her foot. “Yeah, you were way too serious back then.”
Ayla rolled her eyes but grinned. “Oh, please. You were just as grumpy as me.”
"Grumpy?" Paola raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "I wasn’t grumpy. I was... focused."
Ayla laughed softly. "Focused. Sure. Let’s go with that."
They shared a quiet laugh before Ayla glanced over at Yasmin again, making sure she was still asleep. The wagon rocked gently beneath them as the night stretched on, the stars above twinkling like tiny diamonds.
Then, out of nowhere, Ayla’s voice dropped lower, more serious. "I know we’ve been through a lot, Paola. And I don’t want to push you, but... I’m glad you’re here. With us. With me."
Paola felt her heart skip a beat at the sincerity in Ayla’s words. She shifted, her foot slipping from Ayla’s lap as she sat up a little straighter, her eyes meeting Ayla’s. “I’m glad I’m here too,” she said quietly, her voice soft but steady. “With you.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the words settling between them. Then, Paola glanced at Poca again, watching the way her dark hair fell softly over her shoulders as she leaned close to Carter, still talking, still full of energy even in the dead of night.
Paola smiled to herself, feeling a strange but welcome contentment. Despite everything, despite the chaos of their lives and the dangers that lay ahead, she felt... grounded. Connected.
She wasn’t alone anymore. Just as that thought settled in her mind, Yasmin stirred from her sleep, mumbling something under her breath as Oso nuzzled her leg. Paola smiled softly, her gaze still lingering on the duo who had fallen asleep at the front of the wagon. The chaos of the world outside seemed distant, replaced by the soft rhythm of the wagon wheels and the quiet comfort of Ayla’s presence. She felt a sense of peace that was rare in their world. Ayla, however, wasn't about to let the moment stay too calm.
“So...” Ayla started, her tone playful, as she leaned back against the side of the wagon, arms crossed, “are you still into guys?”
Paola blinked, caught off guard by the question, and felt heat rush to her face. "Wh—what? I mean..." She stammered, flustered for a second before composing herself. “Clearly, I am, but... it’s not just about... male or female anymore. It’s more about... you know, the person.” She looked at Ayla with a small smile. “You know what I mean?”
Ayla nodded, her eyes soft but playful. “Yeah, I get it.”
Paola felt herself relax again, the blush still coloring her cheeks. But then Ayla grinned and laughed. “I saw the way you looked at Adrian back there though. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Paola’s eyes widened in mock offense as she let out a laugh. “Oh, come on! He does have a certain allure to him.” She shot Ayla a teasing look. “But you’re one to talk. You were the one roped into all his conversations. I thought he was going to sign you up for the guild right then and there.”
To Paola’s surprise, Ayla’s face turned a slight shade of pink. “I was not!”
Paola burst into laughter, giving her a playful kick. “Caught you!” she teased, grinning wide as Ayla tried to regain her composure.
Ayla crossed her arms, trying to keep her voice steady. “Okay, fine. He was... interesting.”
“Interesting?” Paola raised an eyebrow. “Please. You’re the one who couldn’t stop talking to him.”
Ayla waved a hand dismissively, but her lips curved into a smile. “Alright, alright. I admit, the guy knows his stuff. But that doesn’t mean I’m joining the Arcane Forge.”
Paola smirked. "Yet." She chuckled, settling back down as the conversation lightened again. “Adrian England, though... what kind of last name is that?” She asked, still grinning.
Ayla tilted her head, genuinely curious. “What do you mean?”
Paola snickered. “It’s just... funny. ‘England’ is an actual country from my old world, Earth.”
Ayla’s eyes widened with interest, and then she laughed too. “That’s wild. But you know what? It’s a province in Udanara as well.”
At those words, Paola’s ears twitched, and her tail stiffened slightly, betraying the confusion she suddenly felt. “Wait... what do you mean it’s a province here? Like, in Udanara?”
Ayla nodded casually, still not seeing the weight of what she had just said. “Yeah, it’s a province. Never been there myself. Udanara is massive, after all.”
Paola kept her laugh going, though now her mind was racing. Her thoughts churned, trying to process this strange coincidence. “Where... exactly is this ‘England’ on the map?” she asked, a growing unease settling into her chest.
Ayla thought for a moment before answering. “It’s where Lady Marcelline grew up, actually. She left when she was younger. Her family brought her to Valarian, and, well, by heritage, she was destined for power. Her family comes from a long line of nobility.”
Paola’s heart skipped a beat. She kept nodding, playing along as though this information didn’t shake her, but inside, her mind was buzzing. She quickly reached for the map she remembered Poca had stored in one of the compartments of the wagon. Rolling it out on the floor between them, she pointed to the crisscrossing lines and looked back up at Ayla. “Can you point out where England is on this map?”
Ayla hesitated, her eyes flicking down to the map with uncertainty. Paola’s heart raced as she waited, watching the confusion start to form on Ayla’s face. “I... I’m not actually sure,” Ayla admitted, looking back at Paola with a slight frown. “I never thought about it much.”
Paola’s feline eyes, a deep, light brown with slitted pupils and tiny gold flecks, locked onto Ayla’s red and blue ones. She stared at her, searching for something, anything that would explain what was happening. She was trying to piece together the puzzle forming in her head, and the realization that was dawning was something she never expected. The coincidence, the name... the gaps in Ayla’s knowledge about Lady Marcelline’s past.
“Ayla,” Paola said slowly, her voice barely a whisper, “how many people know about Lady Marcelline’s hometown? About this... England?”
Ayla paused, fidgeting with a strand of her braided blonde hair. “No one, really. Just me, and that’s only because... well, I grew up with her. As her daughter, I learned a few things over the years, but it’s not something that’s talked about.”
Paola’s mind raced. Lady Marcelline... a noblewoman from some far-off province no one knew about, claiming power and status... could she be like Paola? Could she be a Void Borne? Could she have fallen from Earth just like Paola had?
Without thinking, Paola blurted out the thought that had been building in her mind. “Ayla... is it possible that Lady Marcelline is a Void Borne, like me?”
Ayla blinked, completely caught off guard. “What?” She shook her head, confused. “Paola, what are you talking about?”
Paola leaned forward, her heart pounding in her chest. “What if she has the same story as me? What if she’s from Earth? From a place called England—on Earth. And she just... claimed it was some unheard-of province here in Udanara because, well, who’s going to argue with nobility?”
Ayla stared at her, processing the words, and for a moment, there was only silence between them. Paola’s ears twitched, her tail flicking behind her nervously as the two women locked eyes.
Then, out of the darkness at the front of the wagon, a voice spoke up. Barely audible but clear enough to send a chill down Paola’s spine.
“England... on Earth?” Yasmin’s voice cut through the silence, her amber eyes glowing faintly in the dark as she stared at Paola, her expression unreadable.
Paola froze, her heart stopping for a beat as she turned to look at Yasmin. Yasmin, the explosive magist, who was supposed to know nothing about Paola’s origins. No one was supposed to know. Paola’s mind went blank for a second, a mixture of disbelief and panic setting in.
Yasmin sat up slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Paola. The playful, chaotic demeanor she usually carried was gone, replaced by something far more serious, far more intense. “You’re... from Earth?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the question hung heavy in the air.
Paola’s mouth went dry. She didn’t know what to say, how to respond. She hadn’t meant to let it slip. She hadn’t meant for anyone to find out. Especially not Yasmin.