“(Rhynsa, do you…want to talk about it?)” asked Mizarka as she and Arnulfe helped support the Fuzandre with their shoulders. Rhynsa was still catatonic and he was crying, something that the Fuzandre would never do. The demon’s Fear Amplification caused him to do that, which meant whatever trauma he relived was far worse than what Mizarka faced. Either that, or Rhynsa did not have a strong heart from the start, which seemed unlikely.

They decided to rest in an abandoned rest stop. They started to get their bearings, noting that they were transported to somewhere close to the Tragoria-Adaline border, but farther east from where they were. They were close to the sea when they got out of the forest.

“(Sorry, I…).” Rhynsa’s voice broke, but he was calmer than his earlier state around two hours ago. “(I…don’t know how. That demon…managed to break me).”

“(Break you? Break you how?)” asked Arnulfe.

“(My fears…my trauma…he made those his weapons, and they hit me harder than any claws),” said Rhynsa. “(I thought I had moved on from his death, but somehow, he…branded them in my head, turning them into a survivor’s guilt, then amplify them. I…I don’t know if I can ever recover from that. I…never thought I…).”

“(How long…how long have you been inside your mind?)” asked Mizarka.

“(I don’t fucking know! I don’t even know what he did to turn me…turn me into…).”

Clearly, what Rhynsa experienced was different from what Mizarka experienced. It was as if the demon’s abilities were fine-tuned to each and everyone’s fears and regrets, making each unique, but at the same time, dangerous enough to traumatized a hardened Fuzandre like Rhynsa.

Yet, she knew it shouldn’t consume them, so she said, “(Rhynsa, whatever you saw in there…it can never happen. The verbal abuse, and the realization that demon corrupted, does not compare to what you will do. Your past regrets cannot drive you forward. Holding onto those regrets in the guise of honoring the dead isn’t going to make it easier. It only served to bottle up your pain. Look where it got you. You were almost consumed by your own regrets).”

Rhynsa did not reply, so Mizarka changed the topic and said, “(I lost my crown prince during the Uprising and that demon reminded me of that. My greatest regret is to not protect him when I should, but I never dabbled on the fact that it is my life, and I became obsessed to it. From what I can tell, you haven’t let go of your plan for vengeance, and the demon took advantage of that).”

“(I thought…I thought those are just me),” said Rhynsa with a hollow laugh. “(I thought those are the things that made me after the betrayal 20 years ago. I reveled on it, making it what I am now).”

“(And that demon used it against you. Rhynsa, for your own sake…focus on the new lease of life the Schelkz prince gave you. It will be awhile before you can move on from that, but there is a virtue in progress, right?).”

“(She’s right),” said Arnulfe. “(And besides, I just saved your ass. Might as well know you are no longer the tribeless Fuzandre you were, brother).”

Rhynsa could only chuckle from Arnulfe’s declaration. The Fuzandre wasn’t wrong about it. He never thought much about being a tribeless Fuzandre and just got along with anyone, while Rhynsa tried to push them away. Maybe that was the reason why he was immune to the fear: he had no baggage, not like Mizarka and Rhynsa.

Nevertheless, the trauma of being assaulted in his mind and being reminded of his failures, amplified several times, was not something that anyone could get out off without any complications. Rhynsa’s change was evidence of that, in which he was silent most of the journey and did not join Arnulfe and Mizarka’s conversation before they invited him. Even so, he kept to himself, not having any topics to talk about. It seemed that his casual mockery of himself now felt like a bad joke, and Rhynsa preferred not to repeat them, owing to those mockeries almost getting him killed in the worst way imaginable.

Arnulfe’s cheerfulness and Mizarka’s cool demeanor did not seem to suggest that they just lost the people they were supposed to protect. It was true that Mizarka was never the leader of the group, just the one who was competent enough to get them through the dangers of the Underworld and those who pursued them. She was just the combat expert, not the group’s leader. Thus, she believed that, wherever they were, she would expect to meet them in Summinat when the time came. Rhynsa’s broodiness seemed to complete the trio.

As they continued their journey, Mizarka felt that she should check on Rhynsa’s well-being. So, she walked beside him and said, “(How do you feel now?)”

“(Still like shit),” said Rhynsa.

“(Well, at least you got back your usual response),” said Mizarka. “(Maybe it’s a good idea to start talking about what you regret besides the Schelkz prince sacrifice. I won’t judge. We both know we aren’t exactly innocent in many things).”

Rhynsa hesitated, but then felt he could trust Mizarka not to judge him. So, reluctantly, he said, “(I sold out…someone. To save my hide).”

“(And he got enslaved?)”

“(Not like that, no. He mercifully died. But…the fact that I betrayed someone’s trust…made me think that all partnerships…wouldn’t last).”

“(And you think will end up like that?)”

Rhynsa sighed. “(Which is why I prefer working alone, and thus the reason for my second regret).”

“(The Schelkz prince’s death).”

“(He offered me a partnership just moments before we were ambushed and killed. That made me think that he did genuinely try to help me…but at the cost of his life. I thought I got through that, but in the months since then, I realized that I was just lying to myself. I lied to you, I made light of it…and now look where we are).”

Rhynsa sighed. “(I know 20 years of grudge and pain will not go away that easily, but...I sometimes wonder if I should just let it all go and leave everything behind).”

“(It’s not too late, you know),” said Mizarka. “(At least that attack opened your eyes).”

“(And then that demon’s ability also revealed to me yet another fear. I feel lonely…and I fear that loneliness will eat me. I didn’t give that one much though, but after being reminded of it…I don’t think I can afford to be lonely again. To die alone and forgotten…I never thought that is the scariest thing I must overcome).”

“(Yeah, that is scary),” said Mizarka with a nod. “(Loneliness is the deadliest, slow-acting poison of all. It will wreck you before you even realize it. I think 20 years of being unknowingly poisoned finally caught up to you, with the trigger being that demon’s ability to amplify fears).”

Rhynsa smiled. “(I think you’re right, Jackal).”

“(Let’s start with names, shall we?)”

“(I guess so. I think you’re right…Mizarka).”

Mizarka smiled and cheekily said, “(For a moment, I thought you forgot my name).”

“(Heh),” said Rhynsa. “(I never forget. I just don’t bother calling your name all the time, that’s all).”

As they walked and walked, Mizarka chose to let Arnulfe walked beside Rhynsa to cheer him up with his positivity. Rhynsa wasn’t sure if he should make things harder for the furless Fuzandre or just deal with his antics. Rhynsa felt rather annoyed by Arnulfe’s cheery and genuinely friendly personality. It was something he had not seen ever since he was exiled from his tribe. His tribe was the place where there would be Fuzandres that acted much like Arnulfe, mostly children or young adult Fuzandres. The cool reception in the castle where he worked, along with general distrust between hellhounds and Fuzandres made his workplace a terrible place to make friends in.

As for Arnulfe, despite of his usual quick way of starting a conversation, he couldn’t seem to find one for Rhynsa. He looked so depressed and distant after the attack on his mind. It clearly hit different from Mizarka’s attack, making Arnulfe wanting to know what pained Rhynsa so much. Nevertheless, he had no way to start.

But then, he thought of knowing more about Rhynsa, so he asked, “(If it’s alright for you…what’s your former tribe?)”

Rhynsa silently turned to Arnulfe. The younger Fuzandre, expecting him to be mad, started to back up and tried to change the topic before Rhynsa said, “(Avawerk).”

“(Avawerk?)”

“(My tribe’s name. Once upon a time, I am Rhynsa Avawerk. I know. It sounds so silly. But that’s Fuzandre for you).”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“(Not as silly as mine),” said Arnulfe.

“(I thought you said you don’t know your tribe’s name).”

“(Well, I did, but the pendant with that name’s gone a long time ago. Still, I remember what’s written on it. I guess I should be Arnulfe Malbelis).”

“(Malbelis? That’s a very ominous word you got there, kid).”

“(I know. Still, I don’t really care much. It’s just a tribe’s name. I don’t even grow up with Fuzandres, so that name doesn’t matter much).”

It did make Rhynsa intrigued. Malbelis was a Fuzandrean word for ‘Crevasse of Sinners’. Fuzandres believed that there were parts of hell where the damned were condemned in the crevasses, stuck and unable to get out. The thought of it was terrifying, knowing that in real life, being stuck in one could be dangerous and terrifying.

He was surprised that there was a tribe name with that name, so he simply assumed that Arnulfe was misremembering his tribe’s name.

“(Well, enough about tribes),” said Arnulfe. “(You have, uh…any food you like? Or, do you have a recommendation from the surface? I don’t mean blood, I mean food).”

“(Well, there are a lot of foods, but personally, I like Dusdolfian Knuckles).”

“(What’s that?)”

“(Pork legs. They are surface creatures like Thornhogs, but with no spikes. Surface world fruits are great, too, but I don’t like the sour ones).”

“(Huh. That sounds interesting. I don’t know you have favorites).”

“(Nobody asked. You and Mizarka are the first. Even the old fox back in Summinat only cares about a mission. Well, she came close to that, but my eyes weren’t opened yet).”

“(She as in Mizarka?)”

“(Nobody you ever knew. She’s kind, caring, and is certainly unfazed by me. She got a long way ahead of her, so who knows what future she’ll lead herself to).”

“(I bet you’re interested).”

“(Maybe. I gave up on the past and the future a long time ago. It will take time before…before I can be truly free).”

Arnulfe sympathized with Rhynsa, which made him even more determined to let him see that he was no longer alone.

The two kept talking as they walked, occasionally flying to relieve stress on their paws while Mizarka watched. Arnulfe’s positivity, despite his unusual appearance, started to rub on Rhynsa, who seemed to return to his usual sarcastic self. Mizarka was glad to know that, despite his earlier emotional breakdown, Rhynsa rebounded quickly. Maybe this time he would not act like a jerk so anyone could befriend him.

It could also be a way for him to finally mend the wounds he made for 20 years, and to finally let go of his guilt.

***

Rhynsa never felt so happy before. He never thought a furless Fuzandre he just met could do what everyone else couldn’t: convince him that honesty and trust were still important.

As he had mentioned before, Rhynsa had never trusted anyone ever since he was betrayed by the Schelkzes he worked under. Even after Ifrit’s sacrifice, he still had a hard time trusting anyone, especially Anarim Winsel. The vulpine hellhound had more secrets than anyone. Behind the façade of the vulpine face was a secret that even his grandson Eshdar couldn’t know. That’s what Rhynsa got upon seeing him. Maybe it was because of his vulpine face, but maybe because he was just too cautious for anyone’s liking.

Lilac Rezmirn came close to convincing him to trust again. She planted a seed that would lead to him to start appreciating someone more than just a temporary alliance. Then, Mizarka and Arnulfe came to his aid when his paranoia, his fears, and his guilt attacked him and almost killed him.

Then, the sight of the sea also calmed him somewhat, which was strange. Rhynsa had not seen the sea before, as he had only been on the surface for two years. His notoriety as the Vampire of Dusdolf was recent, but it shook the kingdom. He could boast about it, but that wasn’t his style. Boasting would only lead to harm than good.

Both Mizarka and Arnulfe were similar fascinated by the sea. The Underworld had no such thing, with the only thing close to the sea being the sea of lava. That was just molten rock. The sea, however, was water, an element alien to the hellhounds and Fuzandres of the Underworld. Rhynsa remembered the first time he tasted water. It was like he had finally found something that had been missing from his life.

Then, drinking a surface dweller’s blood also made him appreciate the quality of their blood, especially when it wasn’t so thick and viscous like an Underworlder and more like water. Ever since then, he started to feed on surface blood, and that improved his mood a bit.

Nonetheless, he appreciated Arnulfe and Mizarka’s attempts to help him. It worked, though it would take time before he could finally put his troubled past behind. For now, he thought, he should just focus on finding a way to update on his situation.

It wasn’t hard to find a working phone, especially with the port towns not abandoned like the rest of the Tragorian region, though Rhynsa had a feeling it would come soon enough. It was already night when they reached a fishing village called Lyleboone. The only place that was open was the pub and the inn, which wasn’t surprising. The problem, however, came from the fact that the three of them were not remotely Lycan in appearance. A black-furred, tall-eared jackal and two humanoid bats would surely scare people.

Good thing Rhynsa did not forget his cloak. It worked to conceal his unfamiliar appearance, though it did make him look very suspicious. Good thing no one cared about his fur-covered hands, as Lycans also had them (though not the elongated digits of his fingers). Mizarka and Arnulfe would surely draw attention, with Mizarka’s fur having gold accents on her and Arnulfe’s arms also happened to be his wings.

Rhynsa did not even bother staying at the inn, knowing that he did not have enough money for a room. So, with what he had, he ordered a pint of beer and asked for the phone. The bartender, assuming he was a traveler, obliged.

As Rhynsa waited for the operator to connect him to Winsel Tea Shop, he enjoyed his beer while wondering if Mizarka and Arnulfe were behaving. As he waited, he started to wonder if his earlier breakdown revealed his own damaged psyche. He thought he could deal with it and confront it, only to realize that it had been eating his sanity, which had then been amplified to the point of self-devastation. He shuddered when he thought of the trauma he was subjected to. It wouldn’t be scary if there weren’t any facts in there.

As he contemplated on his own fears, there was a click from the phone. Anarim Winsel’s voice then came up on the phone, saying, “Winsel Tea Shop. How may I serve you?”

“Yes, I would like to order the, uh, Beleberith Fruit Tea, please. Can I have it ice cold?”

That was the code Anarim needed to confirm that it was Rhynsa. Without delay, and still in Tragorian, the old vulpine hound said, “It has been days since your last call. How’s everything?”

“To be honest with you…things haven’t been great,” said Rhynsa with a sigh. “I’m calling you from a village called Lyleboone. Whatever happens deeper in the region has not reached here yet, but I doubt it will last.”

“And the group? How are they?”

“We got separated,” said Rhynsa short. “We got attacked. By a circle demon.”

“Circle…?! I see. So, they have made their move. While we are stuck here trying to find our scattered allies, they are already making deals with demons. If we can’t get any alliance, we’re screwed.”

“I just need time, that’s all. Mizarka might know where the Caropus prince is, though from what she told me, I doubt it’s going to be that simple.”

“Forget the Caropus prince, Rhynsa. At this point, we need all the help we need to keep them from getting to Adaline.”

“How about Dusdolf? You mean…”

“Only if we can get the Demon Hunters to help us. Albert, Lilac, and Eshdar are doing that right now.”

“Blondie, huh? Well, time to pull some favors on his part. I bet he got many of them.”

“Try and call him if you want to know. Anyway, Rhynsa.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I know you don’t like someone like me to compliment you, but I am doing this from the bottom of my heart.”

“I haven’t done anything worthwhile yet,” said Rhynsa. “Save your thanks for later, old hound. Also, Winsel….”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“It’s, uh…there will be a group of refugees from Tragoria arriving in Summinat. Their leader is a dark-skinned human named Ryan Okaweni. Make sure…make sure they’re okay.”

“We will. I don’t peg you as someone who cares for others, Rhynsa.”

Rhynsa chuckled. “Neither do I, Winsel. Anyway…tell that girl, Rezmirn, I say hello. And that Barghest, too. Let him be annoyed.”

“Of course. But, uh…is something wrong, Rhynsa?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ll contact you again for updates. See you later, Winsel.”

Rhynsa abruptly closed the line, prompting the bartender to say, “Rough day, mate?”

“You can say that again,” said Rhynsa as he tossed the coin for the pint. “Oh, and another thing. Maybe you ought to find someplace safe. I heard things haven’t been going so well inland.”

“Aye. I heard about that,” said the bartender. “Well, not to worry. We’re close to Angla. Been meanin’ to check on the Blackjack, see?”

“Take care, then.”

Rhynsa left, with the bartender asking him to come again. The Fuzandre felt that he should be more assertive in telling the bartender to evacuate the village, but then again, it wasn’t his call. All he could do was give him a suggestion that it was time to leave.

Returning to Arnulfe and Mizarka, who already pitched a camp in the nearby forest, he told the two about the update he gave Anarim in Summinat. After he finished, he helped himself to a sausage roasted by the fire.

“(So, what now)?” asked Rhynsa as he savored on the sausage. “(Still want to go and find your crown prince, Mizarka?)”

“(At this point, I don’t think we’ll ever find him),” said Mizarka.

“(We could always go back to the Underworld),” suggested Arnulfe.

“(You know the Underworld is no longer welcome for any of us, right?)”

“(We won’t gonna find him up here, that’s for sure).”

“(In any case),” said Rhynsa. “(Like it or not, this is your world now. It’ll take a little use to, but you’ll find it far more interesting than the violence-ridden Underworld).”

“(Wasn’t that the plan in the first place)?” commented Arnulfe. “(I mean, it was, until we all got into trouble).”

“(I just hope the others are safe),” said Mizarka with a concerned tone. “(I can’t help it. There are children in that group).”

“(The surface dwellers are more reliable than you think),” assured Rhynsa. “(But at the same time, they can be just as unreliable as any of us. The point is, they are the same as us, just without the immunity to fire. Yet, they are terribly superstitious).”

“(Huh. Nothing too different, then),” said Arnulfe, enjoying the fresh water Rhynsa salvaged from an abandoned rest stop. “(You can get into a lot of trouble if you’re furless).”

“(There’s nothing wrong with being furless),” said Rhynsa.

“(A furless, gray-skinned Fuzandre?)”

“(Huh),” said Rhynsa, understanding what Arnulfe was talking about. “(You can also add skimpy clothing to the list).”

“(What’s wrong with that?)”

“(Nobody walks around with nothing but a piece of cloth, especially this time of the year. Mizarka’s still okay, though someone might think she’s a lost actor).”

“(Actor? What’s that?)”

Rhynsa made a smile. “(Oh, this is gonna be interesting),” he said, with good-natured sarcasm in his voice).”

It was strange, he thought. He never had such jovial conversation before. His life for the past 20 years was nothing but misery and suspicions. Ironically, it took a demon to made him realize how miserable he had become.

“(So, this is what redemption really is),” said Rhynsa, upon realizing what it was.

Armed with this fact, along with finally making peace with his past, he joined the conversation with the other two throughout the night.

Laughter does heal his soul.