Paola nodded slowly, the weight of her admission hanging heavy in the air between them. Yasmin’s amber eyes were locked on hers, and suddenly, the entire mood shifted. The lighthearted banter, the playful teasing—everything evaporated. The air around them thickened, tension crackling like static.
Ayla, who had been watching in stunned silence, shifted beside Paola, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her sword, resting just behind her head. It was a subtle movement, one meant for defense rather than attack, but Yasmin noticed immediately. Her eyes flicked briefly to Ayla’s hand, then returned to Paola, her gaze calculating, sharp.
For a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. The soft rumble of the wagon wheels, the distant creak of wood, even Oso’s light snuffling at Yasmin’s feet—all of it faded into the background. It was just Paola and Yasmin, locked in a silent, tense standoff.
Paola’s slitted feline eyes, those golden flecks swirling within her brown irises, focused intently on Yasmin, watching her every move. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the weight of what had just been revealed settling heavily on her shoulders. Yasmin’s expression had shifted from its usual high-energy, chaotic self to something far more serious. The jovial tone was gone, and it wasn’t just because she had been sleeping.
Yasmin’s face was calm, her movements measured as she slowly straightened up from her relaxed position. She didn’t reach for any weapon, didn’t make any sudden moves, but there was something about the way she looked at Paola now that set every nerve on edge. Her amber eyes narrowed slightly, taking Paola in as if she were seeing her for the first time.
“You’re a T’shal’ara?” Yasmin asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer. Her gaze drifted to Paola’s ears, twitching slightly in the tension, and her tail, flicking behind her. But it was the eyes—those slitted, predatory eyes—that seemed to capture Yasmin’s attention the most. “Though... that’s not the full story, is it?”
Paola remained silent, watching Yasmin carefully. The rhetorical questions hung in the air, Yasmin seemingly answering them for herself as her mind worked through what she knew.
“I’ve been watching you,” Yasmin said, her voice low, calm. “Since the bandits. Since that odd display of chaos magic... and your reluctance to fully embrace it.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze never wavering. “I thought it was just something you were hiding, something you weren’t comfortable with yet. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
Paola swallowed hard, her throat dry. She could feel Ayla tense beside her, still gripping the hilt of her sword, ready for anything.
Yasmin continued, her tone still unnervingly calm. “You’ve got chaos magic, sure. But there’s something... off. Something different.” She squinted, her eyes scanning Paola with renewed interest, as though piecing together a puzzle. “Your abilities are raw, but not untrained. They’re not just chaotic for chaos’s sake. They’re tied to something else... something deeper.”
Paola’s mind raced, trying to gauge where Yasmin was going with this. She had known, from the moment she revealed her connection to Earth, that Yasmin wasn’t someone to take lightly. She wasn’t just a high-ranking magist; she was someone who had been paying close attention, even when she pretended not to.
The standoff dragged on, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing second.
Yasmin’s amber eyes flicked to Ayla briefly before returning to Paola. “You’re not just a T’shal’ara with chaos magic, are you? You’re something... else.” Her gaze sharpened. “You truly are a Void Borne.”
Paola’s breath hitched. Yasmin had come to the conclusion on her own, the pieces falling into place in her mind. She wasn’t acting on behalf of the guild. She wasn’t interrogating Paola as a magist—she was simply trying to understand. But it didn’t make the moment any less tense.
Ayla shifted again, her grip tightening on her sword. She glanced at Paola, her eyes questioning. Paola knew what Ayla was thinking, could feel the unspoken question hanging between them: What do we do?
Yasmin, sensing the tension in the air, let out a long, slow sigh. The sharpness in her gaze softened slightly, and she leaned back against the side of the wagon, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I wish my sister was here,” she muttered, her voice laced with a strange mixture of frustration and amusement. “She’s always better at reading people.”
For a moment, the tension in the wagon seemed to lift, just a little. Yasmin made a face, as if debating something internally. “Though... on second thought, I’m not sure how much help she’d be in this situation.”
Paola remained silent, still unsure where this was going. She glanced at Ayla again, but Ayla’s eyes were fixed on Yasmin, her expression unreadable.
Yasmin opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, then stopped herself. She looked at Paola and Ayla, then back at Paola. Her lips pressed into a thin line as if weighing her options.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yasmin nodded to herself and looked Paola dead in the eyes. “Alright. Here’s the deal.” Her voice was steady, but the playful edge had returned, though muted now. “What do you want me to do with this information?”
Paola blinked, caught off guard by the question. She had expected a lot of things—accusations, demands, maybe even threats—but not this. Yasmin was giving her a choice.
Ayla’s grip on her sword loosened slightly, though her posture remained tense. She looked at Paola, her expression softening, clearly leaving the decision in her hands.
Paola, still processing everything, let out a slow breath. Her mind raced with possibilities. Yasmin had figured out she was a Void Borne, that much was clear. But she wasn’t acting like a magist of the Arcane Forge who had just uncovered a dangerous secret. She wasn’t even acting like someone who wanted to use the information against Paola. She was... waiting. Waiting for Paola to decide.
“What do I want you to do?” Paola repeated, her voice quiet, more to herself than anyone else.
Yasmin nodded. “Yeah. You want me to keep quiet? Help you figure this out? Leave you alone? I’m not here to make things harder for you, Paola. But I need to know where we stand.”
The weight of the decision hit Paola like a wave. She had been running from her past, from her identity, ever since she woke up in Udanara. Now, faced with the reality that someone knew her secret, she wasn’t sure what to do. She glanced at Ayla, who was watching her with those mismatched eyes—red and blue, warm and supportive.
Paola’s tail flicked behind her nervously, her ears twitching as she thought it over. “I... don’t want this getting out,” she said finally, her voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. “Not yet. Not to anyone.”
Yasmin nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Fair enough. I can respect that.”
Paola felt a slight release of tension at Yasmin’s words, though the air between them was still thick with unspoken implications.
Yasmin stretched her arms above her head and let out a loud yawn, the tension seemingly rolling off her shoulders. “Alright, alright. Secret’s safe with me. Besides,” she added with a smirk, “I’ve got enough chaos of my own to deal with. Don’t need to go making things more complicated.”
Ayla finally relaxed her grip on her sword, her posture easing as she leaned back. The tension between the three of them began to dissolve, though it lingered like a faint aftertaste.
Paola let out the breath she had been holding, but something about it didn’t sit right with her. The tension in her shoulders remained, her mind racing despite Yasmin’s easy-going attitude. She stared at the magist, who was now casually leaning back against a barrel as if the conversation they’d just had was no more significant than discussing the weather.
“That’s it?” Paola asked, her voice sharper than she intended. Her feline eyes narrowed in disbelief, her ears twitching in agitation.
Yasmin shrugged, a carefree smile playing on her lips. “What else would you want?” she replied, voice light as she twirled a strand of fiery hair around her finger. “My sister’s the one who gets all worked up about these kinds of things. Me? I prefer not to start sparring matches with one of Lady Velcrest’s Sword Maidens.” She waved a hand lazily in Ayla’s direction. “That’s paperwork I really don’t want to deal with, not to mention the endless guild meetings. Headaches all around.”
Paola blinked, still feeling like the ground had shifted under her. Everything had escalated so quickly, and now Yasmin was brushing it off as if it were nothing. But for Paola, this was... everything.
She could feel her face contorting with her emotions, the confusion, disbelief, and unease flashing across her features. She had never been great at hiding her feelings, but now—she felt like her entire thought process was being projected for everyone to see. Yasmin’s grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Gods, you’re an open book,” Yasmin teased, pointing at her with a mock accusatory finger. “I can practically hear those thoughts racing in your head. But yeah, that’s it. I’m good at my job, and yes, I care, but I also know when something is above my pay grade.” She gave a casual shrug. “And this? This is way above my responsibilities.”
Paola hesitated, unsure whether to be reassured or more on edge. The casual dismissal of something so monumental in her life—being a Void Borne, a Fallen Star from another world—seemed almost absurd. And yet, Yasmin’s explanation made a strange kind of sense. Paola sighed, a dry chuckle escaping her lips.
Ayla and Yasmin both looked at her, clearly confused by her sudden laughter.
“What’s funny?” Ayla asked, tilting her head.
“Nothing, just...” Paola trailed off, shaking her head, trying to put her thoughts into words. “It’s just... I get it now. She doesn’t get paid enough for this kind of shit.”
Yasmin burst into a short laugh, the sound filling the quiet space in the wagon. “See? Now you’re getting it. There’s only so much I’m willing to dive into before it’s like, ‘Nope, someone else’s problem.’”
Paola, despite herself, couldn’t help but smile. Yasmin’s nonchalant attitude was frustrating, but it was also... refreshing. There was a strange comfort in knowing that not everyone around her was taking this as life-or-death as she had been. Maybe, just maybe, Yasmin was right to treat it this way.
Yasmin let out another sigh, her gaze drifting to the stars above, her voice dropping in volume. “But honestly, things have been getting a little too chaotic, even for my taste.”
Ayla chuckled softly. “You’ve been alive during the time of the star showers. You’ve had the rare opportunity to meet a living Fallen Star, an actual Void Borne.” Her words were light, but there was a hint of awe in them.
Yasmin smiled at that, though it didn’t have the usual fire and spark Paola had come to expect from her. It was more subdued, quieter. Paola noticed the change in her demeanor, a small shift, and she realized that perhaps Yasmin wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.
Yasmin didn’t elaborate, though. She simply turned her attention back to Paola, her eyes softening. “Look, Paola, I promise you—your secret’s safe with me.” She said it with a kind of finality that left little room for argument. It was both a reassurance and a warning.
Paola’s ears twitched, her mind racing again. She wasn’t entirely sure if Yasmin’s promise was enough. How could she be? But the way Yasmin spoke—there was a sincerity beneath the bravado, something real. She wasn’t trying to manipulate Paola, that much was clear.
Yasmin let out another exhale, rolling her shoulders. “Besides, I don’t really fancy making more enemies right now. Not with all the other stuff going on. And truthfully,” she added with a wink, “you’re not my problem.”
Paola gave a slow nod. It wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t entirely satisfied with how easily Yasmin seemed to dismiss it, but she didn’t have a choice, did she? She wasn’t in control of the situation, and that gnawed at her in ways she hadn’t expected. But Yasmin was, for all intents and purposes, letting her off the hook. And that was something.
For now.
“I guess I’ll have to trust you,” Paola said finally, her voice quieter than she meant for it to be.
Yasmin’s grin returned in full force, her usual bravado back. “Well, you don’t have to, but it’d probably make things easier.” She gave a dramatic shrug, her energy shifting back into the high gear Paola was used to. “Anyway, like I said—no one’s gonna hear it from me. I’ve got better things to focus on.”
Paola's thoughts lingered on Yasmin’s promise as the wagon rumbled through the night. She wanted to believe the magist would keep her secret, but trust was a fragile thing, especially when it involved someone like Yasmin, whose carefree attitude masked a deep well of knowledge and power. Paola sighed inwardly, unsure if it was wise to let herself feel reassured. But there wasn’t much time to dwell on it. They were heading into something far more pressing.
"How far are we from the Sand Pass?" Paola asked, leaning forward in the wagon. Her voice cut through the stillness, catching Poca’s attention as she sat at the reins.
Poca glanced back over her shoulder, her expression softening when she saw Paola’s curious eyes. “We’ve been making good time,” she said with her usual lightness, but there was a seriousness creeping into her voice. “Ze oxen, as always, are reliable. We’ll be there in a couple of hours. Good idea to start making preparations.”
Paola nodded, though her gaze lingered on Poca. She had been watching her more closely these past few days, seeing not just the cheerful puppet maker who’d so willingly thrown herself into their lives, but someone who had taken on an unimaginable burden without a second thought. This would be their second battle together, and Paola knew that Poca’s healing abilities during their fight in Emberfall were likely the only reason they had survived.
Yet Poca wasn’t a warrior. She wasn’t a healer before all of this either. She had lived a quiet life, tending to her garden and creating her puppets, her life filled with solitude. And now? She was leading a group of fighters—a Void Borne, a Sword Maiden, and one of the highest-ranking magists in Windmere—into battle, for reasons Paola couldn’t fully understand.
Paola felt a wave of emotion rise within her. She moved through the wagon, her feet soft against the floorboards, and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Poca from behind. The stitch marks along the edges of Poca’s lips brushed against Paola’s own as she planted a kiss on her cheek, holding her tightly.
Poca stilled under her touch, and when Paola pulled away, she saw the deep purple blush blooming on Poca’s cheeks, her signature shade of bashful surprise.
“W-what are you doing?” Poca asked, her voice soft, flustered, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
Paola smiled, her heart full. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. You’re doing so much, Poca, and you don’t even have to. But you are. And I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for that.”
Poca’s eyes softened, her expression shifting as if she, too, was just realizing the weight of it all. She turned fully to face Paola, her gaze thoughtful, almost distant. “I suppose... I never thought about it zat way,” she murmured, as if the revelation hit her all at once. Paola watched her for a moment, sensing Poca’s reflection and the sudden shift in her mood. But before Paola could say anything more, Poca reached up, grabbed the back of her neck, and pulled her into a kiss. It was soft, tender, but filled with unspoken words. When they parted, Poca whispered, “Merci, Paola. You are… too kind.”
Paola smiled, her heart swelling, but then noticed Carter sitting beside them, his too-big grin plastered on his wooden face as he watched the scene unfold. Poca let out a small laugh, quickly teasing, “Carter, you keep zose eyes on ze road, not on us!”
Paola grinned, her heart lighter now, before she moved back toward the wagon, her gaze shifting to Ayla. Sitting opposite from where Paola had been, Ayla’s red and blue eyes watched the road, her posture straight and alert, even in this moment of calm. Paola couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection for her.
With a soft breath, Paola got on her knees in front of Ayla, sitting back on her heels, her head slightly bowed. Ayla glanced down, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” she asked, though there was amusement in her voice.
Paola smiled, looking up into Ayla’s eyes. “Thanking you. For everything,” she said quietly, her voice filled with sincerity. “For protecting me, for never leaving my side, and for teaching me how to protect myself.”
Ayla’s face softened, but before Paola could continue, Ayla reached down, placing a gentle finger on Paola’s lips. “You don’t have to thank me. I already know.”
Paola’s smile widened beneath Ayla’s touch, and with a swift movement, she pressed past her finger and kissed her. It was soft, filled with the gratitude and affection that Paola didn’t always know how to put into words. “Thank you,” she whispered again as they parted, her forehead resting gently against Ayla’s.
A warmth settled between them, the wagon creaking softly as it continued its journey. But before the moment could stretch too long, a voice piped up from the front.
“Ahem,” Yasmin’s voice broke the silence, playful but with a hint of mock sadness. “Are there any kisses left for me? Or am I just chopped liver back here?”
Paola shot her a mock glare, though Yasmin’s exaggerated pout and wide, pleading eyes only made it harder to keep up the act.
“I mean, since you’re already handing them out,” Yasmin continued, her tone dripping with faux drama as she clasped her hands together and sighed deeply, “I wouldn’t mind just a little peck. Maybe?”
Paola rolled her eyes, her ponytail swaying as she shook her head in exasperation. “Yasmin…” she began, but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her.
Yasmin burst into laughter as well, leaning back with a wide grin. “Oh, I’m just kidding. But,” her amber eyes sparkled with mischief, “you three are quite the interesting bunch. Tell me…” she paused, her tone shifting slightly, curiosity dripping from her words. “How does this all work?”
Paola’s face flushed immediately, her confidence wavering as she stammered, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on,” Yasmin said, raising an eyebrow as if the question were obvious. “The three of you. I’ve been dying to ask—are you all together? I mean, Ayla’s clearly your girlfriend, but what about Poca?”
Paola felt her cheeks burn as she glanced between Ayla and Poca, trying to find the right words. “Well, I—uh—” she stammered, trying to make sense of it all herself. “Ayla and I are… I mean, we’re together, that much I know. But Poca—”
Before she could finish, Poca, with her usual brightness, jumped in happily. “I am with Paola as well!” she said, her smile wide, her accent lilting through her words. “And Ayla is a bonus I have yet to… explore.”
Ayla’s face flushed instantly, her red and blue eyes widening in surprise as she glanced over at Poca, who seemed entirely unbothered by her own boldness. Paola, on the other hand, was trying to keep from laughing.
“Well, that’s quite the arrangement,” Yasmin teased, her grin turning into a smirk. “Sounds like I’m missing out.”
Paola finally let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I think we’re enough to handle.”
Yasmin winked, leaning back comfortably. “You three seem like you’ve got it figured out. I’m just here to enjoy the show.”
As the wagon continued through the night, the mood shifted into something lighter. Paola glanced at Poca, then at Ayla, her heart full in a way she hadn’t expected. Even with the fight ahead, even with the chaos swirling around them, she felt grounded. For now, at least, she had the people she needed by her side.
The night slowly melted into the early hours of morning, the stars fading as the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon. The wagon rumbled along quietly, the soft creak of its wooden frame and the rhythmic clop of the oxen’s hooves the only sounds breaking the stillness. Paola had drifted off at some point, leaning against Ayla as the cool night air brushed past them, the occasional shuffling of Yasmin and Poca at the front lulling her into a fragile sleep.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
But as the sun climbed higher, bathing the world in its pale morning light, Paola’s eyes fluttered open. The warmth of the sun contrasted with the coolness of the night, and she blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness. The once vibrant chatter had died down, and the wagon moved steadily along the road, a quiet sense of purpose now hanging in the air.
Poca, ever vigilant at the reins, was humming softly to herself. Carter sat silently beside her, his too-big grin carved into place as he stared ahead. Yasmin was in her usual spot at the front, but even her usual energy seemed more subdued as they neared their destination. Paola stretched slightly, feeling the stiffness in her body, and turned her head to look at Ayla, who was still awake, her gaze fixed forward, lost in thought.
"Morning," Paola murmured softly, rubbing her eyes.
Ayla’s gaze flickered down to her, and she offered a small smile. “Morning. We’re close.”
Paola nodded, shifting slightly in her seat as she looked out over the road ahead. The landscape had begun to change, the trees thinning as they neared the Sand Pass, the wide expanse of rocky terrain stretching out before them. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dry earth and distant winds.
By mid-morning, they had reached a secluded area just a short distance from where they believed the targets and hostages were. Poca pulled the wagon to a stop, and the group quietly disembarked. The wagon was parked behind a cluster of rocks and shrubs, out of sight, and they began preparing themselves for what lay ahead.
Yasmin, her usual playful demeanor replaced with a focused expression, stretched her arms wide, her fingers glowing with the faintest shimmer of magic. "I’ll take a look from above, see if I can spot them," she said, her voice steady.
Without waiting for a response, with a silent flap of those fiery butterfly wings she lifted into the air, her movements graceful and smooth as she ascended higher and higher. Paola watched her for a moment, the way her crimson curls caught the sunlight, the way her magic seemed so effortless. It was hard to reconcile the explosive magist with the soft-spoken woman who had shared jokes with them only hours before.
While Yasmin scouted, Paola took a deep breath, her thoughts swirling as she tried to focus on the task at hand. But something nagged at her, something that had been clawing at the back of her mind ever since the conversation in the wagon the night before.
Lady Marcelline... from Earth? Paola's heart twisted at the thought, her mind spinning with the possibility. Could it really be true? Could the noblewoman she had served under, who held so much sway over Ayla, really be from the same world Paola had come from? The more she thought about it, the more the pieces seemed to fall into place, but the truth of it—if it were the truth—only made Paola feel more adrift.
This mission, this fight they were about to walk into, felt heavier now. It wasn’t just about survival or protecting the innocent. It was about the person she had become in this strange world, a person who now stood on the edge of something dark and violent. She had killed before. The bandits, the monsters… she had done what needed to be done. But this was different.
She wasn’t going to kill one or two people. This time, it would be dozens. Bandits, sure—criminals, people who had chosen this path. But they were still people, each with their own stories, their own lives. The bleakness of it settled in her chest like a heavy weight, and she found herself questioning who she had become.
The warm sun on her face did little to thaw the chill that had settled over her heart. Her T'shal'ara ears twitched slightly, picking up the soft murmur of Ayla’s armor as she moved. Paola glanced at her, watching as Ayla tightened the straps on her armor with practiced precision. For Ayla, this was duty. She was a Sword Maiden, and this was what she did. Paola couldn’t forget that. Ayla had fought, bled, and killed in the name of Lady Marcelline, long before they had met.
And now Paola, a girl from Earth, was caught in the middle of a war she never imagined being a part of. The slitted iris of her feline-like eyes stared out at the horizon, her thoughts tangled in a knot she couldn’t seem to untangle.
“Hey,” Ayla’s voice broke through her reverie, soft and warm. Paola looked up at her, meeting those mismatched red and blue eyes that had become so familiar. “You okay?”
Paola smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Just… thinking.”
Ayla didn’t press her, only nodding as she adjusted the massive broadsword on her back. She understood, in her own way. They had both seen too much in too little time.
Yasmin came floating back down to the ground, her amber eyes glowing slightly as she touched down softly. “I’ve found them,” she said, her voice low but calm. “They’ve got the caravan set up in a narrow valley, not too far from here. It’s well-guarded. Bandits everywhere. Looks like they’ve got several Jade Tier beast tamers with them, too.”
Paola let out a slow breath, her stomach twisting with unease. The thought of facing that many enemies made her heart race, but she knew there was no turning back now.
“What's the plan?” Paola asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.
Yasmin, ever the strategist when the time called for it, exchanged a glance with Ayla. “We’ll split into two groups,” she began, outlining the plan with a surprising level of detail. “I’ll lead the first group—Ayla, Paola, you’ll come with me. We’ll hit them from the front, draw their attention. Poca, you stay back with Carter. You’re the support. Healing and defense. We’re going to need you to keep us in the fight, and you’re going to need to be on your toes.”
Poca nodded, her usual playful demeanor absent now as she listened intently.
Yasmin continued, “Once we’ve engaged the main force, we’ll need to deal with the beast tamers. They’ll be our biggest threat, but if we take them out early, the rest of the bandits will crumble. Ayla, your broadsword is perfect for close-quarters combat. Paola, your agility is going to be key. We’ll need you to move fast and strike hard.”
Paola nodded, though her mind still struggled to keep up with the gravity of what they were about to do. She glanced at Ayla, who was already nodding along with Yasmin’s plan, her face calm and collected. Paola admired that about her—her ability to stay focused, even in the face of danger. But it was also a reminder of the world they lived in now.
They weren’t on Earth anymore. They weren’t bound by the same rules, the same morals. Here, survival meant doing things she never imagined herself capable of.
Yasmin caught Paola’s eye, her amber gaze softening for a moment. “You ready for this?”
Paola swallowed hard, the tension in her chest tightening. But she nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quiet but determined. “I’m ready.”
With that, the group made their final preparations, each of them steeling themselves for the battle ahead. As they moved quietly through the rocky terrain, the weight of their mission hung heavy over them. Paola’s heart raced, but there was no turning back now.
They were headed into the storm.
The landscape around them was vast and barren, a mix of sandy dunes and jagged rock outcroppings that stretched endlessly under the rising sun. The wind whispered through the Sand Pass, kicking up small swirls of dust that stung Paola's feet as they pressed into the gritty ground. She barely noticed it, though—the adrenaline coursing through her veins dulled the sting of discomfort, sharpening her senses instead.
Paola stood quietly at the edge of the ridge, the wind tugging at the edges of her cloak as it fluttered around her slender frame. The rough fabric barely shielded her from the elements, her lithe body exposed to the cool morning air. Her feline ears twitched atop her head, picking up the distant, low growl of beasts as they prowled the area below. The slitted iris of her golden-flecked eyes narrowed, scanning the camp in the valley just ahead.
The caravan sat clustered in the middle of the valley, surrounded by makeshift barricades and guarded by bandits who moved in and out of sight between the rocks and the captured wagons. Hostages—civilians and merchants from the caravan—were huddled together, tied up, their faces pale with fear.
But it wasn’t just the bandits that set Paola’s pulse racing. In the distance, four figures stood apart, their presence commanding. Each one was flanked by a massive beast, towering and powerful, all related to the sand that dominated this region. The Jade Tier beast tamers.
To the left, two hulking bipedal creatures, their skin coarse and stone-like, patrolled lazily near their masters. Their massive fists pounded the ground as they walked, shaking the earth with every step. Next to them, a snake-like beast slithered over the sand, its sleek, sinuous body shimmering as it coiled itself protectively around its tamer, the glint of its sandy scales almost mesmerizing in the sunlight. The final beast was cat-like, its long, sinewy body covered in fine fur the color of desert sand. It moved with a silent grace, its glowing amber eyes locked onto the caravan as if waiting for something—anything—to strike.
Paola felt a shiver run down her spine as she stared at the cat-like beast, its form eerily similar to her own movements. Agile, predatory, watching. Her tail flicked behind her, brushing the ground with a barely audible swish as she crouched low, her toes curling into the sand for grip.
She could hear Ayla moving beside her, the faint clink of her armor muffled against the wind. Paola glanced over at her, her heart racing as she watched Ayla study the camp with calm, focused eyes. Her hands rested on the hilt of her broadsword, her expression set with quiet determination.
Yasmin floated just above them, her fiery hair framing her face as she surveyed the area from her vantage point. She hadn’t said much since they arrived, but Paola could see the concentration etched on her face, the faint shimmer of magical energy already gathering around her fingertips.
Poca, standing off to the side, was quieter than usual. Her green and purple eyes were wide with focus, her stitched face still. She watched Carter, her loyal wooden puppet, who stood beside her like a silent sentinel, ready for whatever chaos was about to come their way.
Paola crouched low, her golden-flecked eyes scanning the horizon as the wind tugged at her cloak, trying to pull it free. She held it close, the familiar weight of the fabric resting against her bare skin, a reminder of the fragile protection it offered. Her lithe form moved with ease, her feline ears twitching at every subtle sound. Despite the tension in the air, her body felt alive, humming with the anticipation of battle.
She glanced around at her companions—Ayla, poised with her sword, the very picture of noble strength; Poca, the ever-watchful healer, her stitches stretched tight across her delicate, blue skin; and Yasmin, hovering just above, her chaotic energy barely restrained, like a storm waiting to break. But as Paola looked at them, the reality of who she had become hit her all over again. This was her life now—this brutal, unforgiving world of Udanara.
Her cloak fluttered around her, a small comfort, but one that felt at odds with the raw part of her that craved freedom. She hadn't forgotten how she arrived in Udanara—naked, vulnerable, thrown into a fight for her life. At the time, it was terrifying, but somehow, even then, it had felt natural. It was primal. As if stripping away everything had revealed who she truly was.
And now, here she was again, on the verge of battle, that familiar itch to cast the cloak aside gnawing at her. The idea of charging into the fray, her bare skin exposed to the elements, felt right. The cloak, though necessary, felt like a cage around the core of who she was becoming. The Paola from Earth—shy, reclusive, wrapped in sweats and sweaters, always covering herself—was a distant memory. Here, in Udanara, she was something else, someone else. And the truth was, she liked it.
Her tail flicked nervously behind her, brushing against the sand as the wind picked up, stirring the dust at their feet. Her feet, bare and dirty, gripped the ground with a familiarity she had grown to appreciate. There was no pretense here—no layers of fabric or self-consciousness. Just raw survival. She tugged at the edges of the cloak, knowing that despite her urge to drop it, it provided the defenses she couldn’t afford to lose. The cloak was one of the few things that didn’t interfere with her nudist trait, offering protection without the restrictive weight of heavy armor.
But the war inside her raged. The woman she had become—the one who wanted to face the world unburdened by the trappings of the past—was at odds with the practicality that demanded she keep the cloak on. She sighed inwardly, forcing herself to stay grounded, to focus on the mission ahead.
The beasts below shifted in the sand, their movements stirring something dark and violent inside her. The early days in Udanara flashed through her mind—days spent fighting, clawing her way through one brutal challenge after another. Days when survival was all that mattered. And now? She had a choice. She could charge into this battle like she always had, bare and fearless, or she could play it smart, use the tools she'd gained to protect herself and the people she cared about.
Paola's gaze flicked to Ayla, her stoic lover, always standing by her side. Ayla, who had saved her countless times, taught her to protect herself, and now stood ready to fight with her again. Paola's heart tightened, her affection for Ayla and Poca burning like a slow, steady flame. These women were her strength, her reason to keep fighting. But it was more than that. They had become a part of her, just as much as the instinct to fight, to survive, had become ingrained in her very being.
The wind whipped at her again, and her tail flicked once more, betraying the nervous energy building inside her. She rolled her shoulders, adjusting the cloak around her body, feeling the fabric brush against her bare skin. The temptation to shed it gnawed at her still, but she pushed it down, focusing instead on what was about to happen.
The beasts below, their Jade Tier tamers standing with grim authority, were a reminder of the stakes. This was not just another fight—this was war. And Paola, for all her inner turmoil, was ready.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared out at the camp, her muscles tensing with anticipation. She felt Ayla’s gaze on her, steady and reassuring, and she let herself draw strength from it. Then, in a moment of calm before the storm, she took a deep breath, letting the cold, bitter reality settle over her.
The air around the group felt dense, filled with tension and anticipation. Each of them, Paola, Ayla, Poca, and Yasmin, stood in position, the rocky outcroppings providing enough cover as they peered down into the encampment below. The sand beneath Paola’s bare feet was cool against her skin, grounding her in the reality of what was to come. Her tail flicked nervously, betraying the calm exterior she tried to project. She had fought before, many times, but never against odds like this. It wasn’t just one or two bandits—they were staring down an entire force of warriors, magists, and beast tamers.
"Go," whispered Yasmin, her voice carrying with it an unspoken command, as if instinct itself responded to her words.
The sandy, rocky environment stretched before them like an ominous stage set for chaos. Paola’s eyes flicked to the bipedal creatures, their massive fists pounding the earth as they moved, their rough, stone-like skin blending with the terrain. The snake-like beast coiled sinuously, its scales glinting in the sun like polished glass, while the cat-like creature, sleek and deadly, prowled silently nearby, its amber eyes never straying from the caravan.
Paola crouched low, her feet sinking slightly into the sand. The cloak that barely clung to her lithe frame flapped in the desert wind. It wasn’t just a fight; it was a clash of powers—Jade Tier beast tamers, Quartz and Jade Tier warriors and magists, and at least three Obsidian Tier enemies among them. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary battle. This was going to be war.
She glanced around at her companions. Ayla, her long blonde braids swaying as she moved, the dragon guard armor gleaming in the sun, her hand resting on the hilt of her broadsword. There was a cold focus in her eyes, the kind Paola had come to know well. Poca, with her stitched-up smile, seemed more serious now, her hands already glowing faintly blue with the healing energy she would no doubt need to use soon. And Yasmin… Yasmin was something else entirely. There was no fear in her. Only anticipation, maybe even excitement. Her fiery butterfly wings glowed with a subtle light as she floated just off the ground, a wicked grin curling on her lips.
“This is going to be fun,” Yasmin muttered to no one in particular, her hands already sparking with the first tendrils of explosive magic.
Paola couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down her spine. Yasmin’s magic was chaotic, wild—just like her. And yet, she had a certain mastery over it that was almost mesmerizing. She reveled in the destruction, and even now, she seemed to be enjoying the anticipation of the fight ahead.
The tamers stood at the far end of the battlefield, surrounded by a mix of magists and warriors. Most of them were of lower rank—Quartz and Jade Tiers—but Ayla had estimated at least three Obsidian Tier fighters among them. The odds weren’t in their favor, but Paola wasn’t afraid. She had learned long ago that fear wasn’t an option here.
She glanced at Ayla, who whispered, “Three Obsidian Tiers. Keep an eye on the beasts. They’re going to be a problem.”
Paola nodded, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the battlefield again. The cat-like beast moved with an unsettling grace, its eyes locked on the group. The two hulking creatures on the left were a different story altogether—brutal, slow, but devastatingly powerful. The snake-like beast coiled tighter around its tamer, its tongue flicking out as if tasting the air.
For a moment, Paola felt a pang of bitterness. How had she gone from a woman who never left her house, buried in sweaters and sweats, to this? Standing on a battlefield, naked except for a cloak, preparing to kill… dozens of people. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. This was who she had become.
And the strange part was… it felt right.
She let out a slow breath, her tail flicking behind her in nervous anticipation. Her claws itched to be unleashed, her muscles tense with the desire to move. The cloak, though providing a necessary defense, felt wrong somehow—restrictive. If it weren’t for the practical need, she would’ve dropped it without a second thought. She had fought naked before. The feel of the wind on her skin, the way her body moved without constraint—it had been instinctual, primal. And that’s who Paola had become.
The woman from Earth was a distant memory now. That Paola was gone, replaced by someone who didn’t flinch at the thought of battle, who relished the idea of fighting with nothing but her claws and her instincts.
Her eyes flicked to Yasmin, who was already levitating higher, surveying the enemy from above. The fiery wings on her back fluttered, casting small sparks as she floated. Yasmin caught Paola’s eye and gave her a quick, mischievous grin before focusing back on the enemy.
Paola’s heart thudded in her chest, but it wasn’t fear... It was anticipation. Excitement?
Ayla’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Stay close. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”
Paola nodded, but her gaze lingered on the battlefield. She could already feel the pull of chaos magic deep within her, like a low hum at the base of her skull. It was a power she was still learning to control, but one that felt as much a part of her now as her claws or her tail.
Her hand went to her dagger, and she flexed her claws on her other hand, readying herself. The wind blew again, carrying with it the scent of sand and blood—a promise of what was to come.
Yasmin floated back down to the ground, her eyes alight with mischief. “We’ve got a lot of company. Looks like this is going to be a party after all.”
Ayla, ever the stoic, rolled her eyes. “Focus, Yasmin. This isn’t a game.”
Yasmin smirked. “Everything’s a game if you play it right.”
Paola chuckled under her breath, but her heart was pounding. Yasmin’s bravado was infectious, but it didn’t dull the reality of what they were about to face. This wasn’t a simple skirmish. There were lives on the line—innocent people in that caravan. And now, it was their job to save them.
“Ready?” Ayla asked, her voice low, her hand resting on her broadsword.
Paola nodded again, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her dagger. Her tail flicked once more, a nervous tick she couldn’t seem to shake. She looked down at her bare feet, feeling the cool sand beneath her toes. It grounded her, reminded her of who she was now. Not the woman from Earth, not the reclusive, quiet girl who never left her apartment. She was a fighter. A survivor.
And today, she would kill. Because that was what needed to be done.
Paola’s eyes flicked back to the beasts, watching as the tamers readied themselves. The cat-like creature shifted, its muscles coiling beneath its sand-colored fur. The two hulking beasts on the left let out low, rumbling growls, their stone-like fists clenching in anticipation. And the snake-like creature… it was almost hypnotic in its movements, its scales shimmering in the sunlight as it slithered closer.
Paola took a deep breath, letting the chaotic energy within her build, ready to be unleashed.
This was who she was now. And she wasn’t going to hold back.
“Go,” Yasmin whispered again, and this time, Paola was ready.
Paola felt the pull, the readiness in her muscles, and without thinking, her body moved. The fight had begun.
She vanished, teleporting in a blur of motion, her Rapid Teleport ability propelling her through the battlefield. Her vision narrowed, locking onto the first target—a Quartz-tier magist whose back was turned as he directed a spell toward Ayla’s direction. In an instant, Paola reappeared behind him, her bone claws unsheathed with a deadly grace. The chaotic energy surged through her, and before the magist could react, her claws raked across his throat, the Chaos Strike adding a burst of fire as his body crumpled to the ground.
Across the battlefield, Ayla was already in the fray, her massive broadsword cleaving through an enemy warrior. The sheer force of her strikes sent waves of fire rippling through the sand, igniting it in her wake. Her Flame’s Cross ability carved a burning path, a cross-shaped inferno that scorched anyone foolish enough to come near. Her blonde braids whipped in the air as she moved with practiced precision, each strike met with the sound of steel cutting flesh.
But even Ayla, for all her strength, couldn't hold back the numbers flooding toward them. More bandits, magists, and beast tamers poured in, their spells filling the air with crackling energy.
A roar tore through the battlefield—a beast tamer’s bipedal creature, its claws gleaming like polished obsidian stretched from the massive fists, charged at Ayla. Without hesitation, she activated her Frost Step, her feet gliding over the sand as she dodged the creature’s swiping claws. The ground beneath her froze, causing the beast to skid and lose balance, buying Ayla precious moments to strike back. Her sword flared with ice and fire, a combination that sent shards of frost and flames shooting toward her attacker. The creature howled in pain as the ice bit into its fur, only to be consumed by the fire that followed.
Meanwhile, Yasmin reveled in the chaos. She hovered above the battlefield, her amber eyes glowing with a dangerous light. Her hands crackled with energy, and with a wicked grin, she unleashed her Boom Blossom, a flower-like explosion that bloomed in a fiery radius, incinerating everything in its path. Warriors and magists screamed as the explosion ripped through their ranks, the shockwave stunning those lucky enough to survive the initial blast.
"Biggest threat, my ass," Yasmin laughed, her voice carrying over the battlefield. "No magist can stand up to this!"
Her words rang true. The defenses the bandits had erected to counter magical attacks were crumbling under her assault. Their barriers shattered like glass against the force of her explosive magic. Another bandit magist raised a shield, trying to deflect her incoming attack, but Yasmin merely shrugged, unleashing her Thunder Pyre—a storm of fire and thunder that tore through the defenses, leaving only a smoldering crater where the magist once stood.
Paola, still in the thick of battle, darted between enemies with the fluid grace of a predator. Her Shadow Pounce ability allowed her to teleport from one target to another, always striking when least expected. Blood splattered the sand as her claws found their marks, her Phase Slash leaving deep gashes that bled profusely, weakening her opponents. But despite her lethal efficiency, the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. Paola could feel the weight of it pressing down on her—so many lives, and all of them needed to be ended.
This is what it’s come to, she thought bitterly, her claws slashing through another bandit. The Paola who used to hide away on Earth, wrapped in sweaters, avoiding the world, was long gone. She was no longer just surviving—she was thriving in the chaos of Udanara. There was a cold, hard truth in that realization, a truth that made her stomach churn even as her instincts told her this was who she had become.
She glanced over at Ayla, who was now locked in a fierce battle with one of the Jade-tier beast tamers. The warrior had summoned a massive sand cat, its lithe body weaving through the battlefield like a shadow. The beast lunged at Ayla, claws outstretched, but Ayla was faster. She activated Winter’s Grasp, her body enveloped in a thick layer of frost armor. When the beast struck, it froze on contact, its body shuddering as ice spread across its limbs. Ayla swung her broadsword, shattering the frozen beast in one brutal stroke.
Despite the carnage, Ayla fought with a sense of purpose, her movements deliberate and precise. She was a Sword Maiden, and Paola knew this was where Ayla belonged. The reality of it hit Paola harder than she expected—this was who they were now. Warriors, killers. There was no place for hesitation or doubt.
Above them, Yasmin continued her onslaught, but she too had shifted from her usual high-energy bravado to something more focused. She understood the stakes. Her Inferno Nova lit up the sky, a massive explosion that set the battlefield ablaze. The ground trembled as the firestorm raged, and for a moment, it felt like the very earth itself would crack open from the sheer force of it.
Still, the bandits and their beasts fought back, their sheer numbers keeping the pressure on. One of the bipedal creatures roared, its claws tearing through the sand as it charged Paola. She dodged, teleporting behind it with a flick of her tail, but the creature was fast, faster than she expected. It whirled around, swiping at her with claws that shimmered with chaotic energy.
Paola grunted as the claws grazed her arm, leaving a deep gash. Blood dripped down her bare skin, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Her Chaos Strike flared to life, adding a burst of fire to her next attack. She slashed at the beast’s side, the fire igniting its fur in a burst of flames. The creature howled in pain, stumbling back as it tried to put out the fire.
Paola’s muscles ached, and her breathing was ragged, but the battle wasn’t over yet. She looked around, taking in the chaos—the flames, the blood, the bodies. This was what needed to be done. There was no other way.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the air. One of the Obsidian-tier magists had joined the fray, his hands glowing with dark energy. He unleashed a barrage of spells, targeting Ayla and Yasmin. Yasmin cursed under her breath, darting to the side as a bolt of energy barely missed her.
"We’ve got an Obsidian-tier over here!" Yasmin shouted, her tone no longer playful. She fired off a quick blast of her own, but the magist deflected it with ease.
Paola's heart raced. This fight was far from over, but she couldn't afford to lose focus. She glanced at Ayla, who nodded, their unspoken understanding clear. They had to keep going.