The rest of the day went as well as Thepa expected. After Wilran left, she spent the next few minutes in silence trying to think of the words to say to her. It was hard given the situation. She was sure that whatever she could say regarding their friendship, Rory would have no memory of it, but at the same time, she was determined to do just about anything to seek Rory's forgiveness. It wasn't until the nurse came and checked her vitals did she finally conclude to start in the beginning.

"You know, when we first met, you took something from me," she said softly.

Rory blinked, her brows furrowing in confusion. "I'm... sorry?" she replied, unsure of herself. Her eyes drifted toward Thepa's beret. "Was I a bad person? Were you arresting me for a crime?"

Thepa smiled, lacing warmth into her voice. "No. We were in training. At the time, I was a little upset, but once I understood your motives, it was hard not to admire what you were doing."

Rory tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "Which was?"

Thepa shrugged. " "It was your way of saying hello. Strange, abrupt, maybe even a little rude, but exactly the right way to get through to me. Back then, I was too self-absorbed to notice anything subtle. Had you approached me any other way, I probably would've smiled politely and walked away."

Rory opened her mouth to respond, but then stopped, a puzzled look crossing her face. She ran her fingers through her auburn hair, staring at Thepa. "But you said I was your sister. No offense, but we look nothing alike."

The bluntness of the comment caught Thepa off guard, and she burst out laughing. Rory's confusion only deepened, but the laughter was a welcome relief from the heaviness of the day. After a moment, Thepa wiped tears from her eyes and composed herself.

"Leave it to you to lose all your memories, but still keep your cheek." Thepa said, grinning from ear to ear, or in her case, horn to horn.

Rory's lips curled into a small smile. "I'm glad I can still make you laugh."

Thepa looked back at Rory, her eyes softening with affection. "We're not blood, but we share the bonds of sisterhood. There is nothing stronger."

Rory's smile grew, a toothless grin that, while unfamiliar, still warmed Thepa's heart. It wasn't quite the Rory she remembered, but it was enough. It was enough to give her hope, enough to make her believe things could still get better. The two of them spent hours reminiscing, or rather, Thepa did most of the talking—sharing stories of their time together. Even if Rory didn't remember, she listened, and that was more than Thepa could have asked for.

At some point an attendant came in and brought the two of them dinner, but no one made her leave. Thepa felt slightly guilty by the gesture hoping the attendant's allowance had more to do with the way Rory was progressing in her presence, but truthfully, she knew it most likely had to do with her rank or outburst. When she had the chance, she'd apologize to those she had wronged, but for now, the steady rhythm of Rory's soft snores brought her a sense of peace.

She grabbed a spare blanket from the vanity, curled up on the floor, and closed her eyes, letting herself drift off with the hope that today was the start of something good.

But that peace was short-lived. Little did she know, she was in for a rude awakening. As soon as Thepa felt the last bits of consciousness slip away, she found herself in a well familiar dream.

Rory was in the process of moving items out of drawers. It was one of the few times that the two of them were actually in Rory's room, since she had arrived in Goldale to join Elite Team Zero. The majority of their time spent together was in Thepa's chamber as it was on the third level and had public resources that were available to both of them. However, Rory being the Saintian she was had chosen a room on the first level.

As Rory tossed items onto the bed, Thepa broke the silence. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

Rory flung a brush toward her without looking. "Hard to say. Depends on what spells Draco and Einkidi will need me for. I want to spend time with them, too—it might be awhile before I see them again. Do you want that?"

Thepa chuckled and picked up the brush. "You know, most princesses I know wouldn't leave their bedroom without one of these, let alone not use it."

Rory tossed her empty rucksack over her shoulder, the fabric collapsing in a heap. "And how many princesses do you know?"

"Just one," Thepa grinned, "but she's one of a kind." She tucked the brush into the rucksack as Rory glanced back with a soft smile—one that quickly shifted into a frown.

"Something wrong?" Thepa asked, her humor fading.

Rory sighed, shaking her head. "Not really, I just... I can't find my diary."

Thepa's eyes swept the small room, noting the dresser Rory had been sifting through and the space beneath the bed. Nowhere for a diary to hide, but still, she knelt down, scraping her horns against the bed frame. Despite her efforts, the space was empty, save for small clumps of dust and hair that blew away in the wake of her body's movement.

"When's the last time you saw it?" she asked climbing back on the bed. Rory sat down next to her, picking up the rucksack She gave it a quick once over, but even Thepa could see the only thing in it was the discarded brush.

"I usually keep it here. It's been a while since I wrote in it, but I'm sure this is where I left it."

Thepa leaned into her, trying to offer some comfort. "Well, maybe it's not in the last place you remember. Could you have left it at the Gate of the Moon?"

"And yet, the last place you left something should be the first place you look," came Rory's cold voice from the door.

The dream shifted. The dresser, rucksack, and Rory beside her vanished. Standing in their place was Rory, the same, but different—scarred and gaunt, wearing the hospital gown she had on earlier.

Thepa staggered to her hooves as the bed vanished beneath her. Fear and confusion coursed through her.

"Why are you still torturing me?" Thepa pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're alive. You're safe. I'm protecting you."

Rory's hand shot out before Thepa could react, slapping her across the face. The dream reverberated with the impact, the sting rippling through the air. There might not have been pain, but it hurt nonetheless.

"No thanks to you I might add." Rory screeched, her words dripping with venom. "You didn't save me. You didn't come from me. Shol, you didn't even bother to check the last place you saw me. Instead, you abandoned me to torture for months in the cave. I escaped on my own. I was saved by the Elite Team One. The doctors healed my wounds. Remind me what were you doing all that time? Oh, that's right, you were physically and magically medicating yourself. You're the last Saintian I need protecting me."

Thepa tried to respond, but her voice faltered. "I..." Before she could say more, Rory's hand came down again, the impact shattering her soul.

"YOU DON'T GET TO SPEAK UNLESS I TELL YOU!" Rory's voice roared through the air, leaving Thepa frozen, her body trembling. A whimper escaped her lips, but Rory pressed on, relentless.

"You deserve this. You may have my body now, but my spirit will never give you rest. Every time you see me, I want you to remember what you did." Thepa's shame deepened, each 'you' stripping her bare. "Say it, Thepa. Say you deserve this."

"I deserve this," Thepa muttered, her voice weak and broken.

"AGAIN!" Rory demanded, the force of her command rattling Thepa to her core.

"I deserve this," Thepa repeated, louder this time.

Rory smiled cruelly. "With feeling, Thepa."

Thepa's voice cracked as she repeated, over and over, "I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this."

Rory began to laugh, the sound chilling and unnatural, but it stopped abruptly as a soft blue light filled the room. It was subtle at first, but quickly grew in intensity, brightening until it was almost blinding. As the moments of unconsciousness started to fade into reality, she realized its source had been coming from her chest.

Much to her relief, the light had shattered the dream.

Thepa awoke in darkness, the early light of dawn just beginning to creep through the window. Rory's gentle snores filled the room. The sweat on Thepa's skin clung to her like a second layer, her body still trembling from the nightmare. Her hand instinctively went to her cheek, where a lingering numbness rested. As she brought up a hand to touch the tenderness that rested there, her clothing shifted allowing the small moon-shaped pendant she wore around her neck to fall out as if by happenstance. However, instead of its normal silver frame, it now glowed a bioluminescent.

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Thepa's eyes widened as she stared at the glowing pendant. For a moment, she did nothing, simply admiring the soft light that emanated from it. When she finally grasped its form, the warmth of the pendant spread through her hand and up her arm, causing a sense of calm to wash over her. The troubling dream from the night before faded away, and even the numbness in her cheek began to subside.

Thepa sat up and looked towards Rory still fast asleep. The gift had been from her and though Thepa was sure Rory had given it to her with a purpose, she couldn't help but stare at her friend wondering what it could possibly be. Knowing there was no way she was going to get an answer here, she decided to go check the place Rory stayed while she was in Goldale. It was possible, though unlikely, the dream was trying to do more than torture her.

In the early hour, the third level of Goldale felt like a forgotten ruin. Shadows clung to the high arches and winding streets, where only a few stoic guards patrolled, saluting her in silence. The nobles, wrapped in the cocoon of their riches, lay in their lavish beds, blissfully unaware of the unrest simmering below. As she descended to the second level, the city started to stir with faint signs of life, but the same could not be said about level.

Even in the breaking dawn, the level was a cornucopia of sight, sounds, and smells. Calls could be heard from the distant docks of merchants bringing in their midnight haul. Drunks stumbled out of hovels either on their way home after a long night in the tavern or on their way to do only what the gods knew. Beggars were already up from there spots in the slums. At one point, she tried to give an elderly woman some coin, but realized for the second time in two days, she hadn't had any. Awkwardly, she mumbled a semi-coherent apologized and walked away in humiliation.

By the time she reached Rory's rented hovel, the sun had begun to bleed over the horizon. The building leaned precariously; its wooden frame weathered by years of neglect. The faint smell of mold clung to the damp stone walls, and the door, rusty and cracked, seemed ready to crumble at the slightest touch.

Before Thepa could push open the door, a slick and familiar voice cut through the morning air eager to great her. "Looking to rent a room, babe?"

Thepa turned slowly, already knowing who it was before her eyes met his. It was the voice of her comeuppance, the Youngling of the Stars that gave her everything she asked for and everything she deserved.

Griff," she said flatly, turning in his direction with crossed arms. "What do you want?"

Griff stood there, leering, his bronze skin gleaming under the rising sun. His jet-black hair was slicked back with so much oil it dripped down his temples, leaving greasy trails on his skin. The lurid purple-and-red robe he wore looked newly stolen, a garish green jewel hanging from his neck like a beacon. If Thepa didn't know the man, she might have warned him not to flaunt it.

He licked his lips, a sleazy grin spreading across his face as he swaggered closer. "Easy, babe, it's been too long. My sources told me you got back yesterday. I figured it wouldn't take you long to find something sweet."

Thepa's skin crawled, her need for a bath growing with every second in his presence. She turned away, ready to shut him out, but something inside her faltered. A coldness washed over her, and her hand trembled slightly. The feeling she'd been trying to escape—the guilt, the grief, the misery—crawled back up her spine, wrapping around her throat with a faint whiff of honey.

Griff seized on her hesitation. He slipped closer, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "Not so easy to walk away, huh? That taste—once it gets in you, it doesn't let go. Just give in, babe, while the giving's good."

The hemorrhage in Thepa's hand slowly made its way up her body, while Griff whispered sweet nothings in her ear. He casually placed an oily hand down her arm exasperating the tremor, but all Thepa could think about was the guilt and abandonment of Rory.

"I...," she started and then turned to face him now ashamed of herself. "I don't have any coin."

Griff's smirk deepened as he let his hand fall onto hers, his fingers curling possessively around her sweaty palm. His gaze shifted momentarily to the shabby inn behind her, then flicked back, his beady eyes gleaming with the glint of a sparkle.

"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement, babe. After all, you deserve this."

Warmth suddenly surged through Thepa's chest; an unnatural heat that spread from the pendant hidden beneath her tunic. The faint blue light pulsed and the scent of honey dissipated. Griff's gaze flickered to her chest; curiosity piqued by the flicker beneath her clothing. But before he could ask, Thepa's body moved on instinct. Her fingers tightened around his hand, pinching the tender flesh at the back of his palm. In one swift motion, she bent his arm backward, forcing it high behind his shoulder until it strained at an unnatural angle.

"I deserve this?" she hissed, her voice thick with anger. For the second time in less than a day, her body ignited, joined with the power of the pendant's glow. Griff tried to escape, squealing in agony, but Thepa kept her grip firm, refusing to let him wriggle free. "There are a lot of things I deserve, Griff, but whatever this is... no one deserves this."

Griff continued to flail about. Thepa could hear him muttering a chant under his breath, but she knew enough about the somatic movements of spellcasting to know he wouldn't be able to cast as long as she held him there, which she did without breaking a sweat.

I'm going to give you a choice," Thepa growled, her voice dangerously low. "You can crawl back to whatever filthy hole I dragged you out of three months ago... or you can keep pushing whatever this is and we can start calling you Lefty."

"The first, the first!" Griff wailed. Without hesitation, Thepa released him, and he collapsed onto the cobblestones, face-first. For a moment, he lay there, whimpering in a heap of bruised pride, before scrambling to his feet. Without even a backward glance, he scurried around the corner, vanishing into the maze of Goldale's lower streets. Thepa didn't know if she would see the elf again, but for the moment, she was grateful she defeated one of her demons.

With a little more joy in her heart, she grabbed the pendant and said to no one in particular, "Thank you."

Once more the warmness spread through her and she felt a smile creep up her face. Happily, she turned back towards the inn eager to complete her mission of finding something in there.

Unfortunately, her investigation went about as well as she expected. Despite the state of the building, the innkeeper—a cheerful halfling with a grin too wide for the hour—was more than happy to accommodate her. However, he had very little to offer her. The only thing left behind in the building was a brush now covered in his own tangled locks and what Thepa could tell was some sort of holy book. Not sure what to expect, she opened the book to the beginning and found a story about a family and a naranga tree, but gave up sometime halfway through the first page. The book itself was useless to her, but it did give her an idea on how to help Rory with her memory situation. After picking up a magical object from her office along the way, she made it back to the hospital to find Rory sitting up in bed while a healer looked her over.

"Hey," Thepa greeted, forcing some brightness into her voice. "How's our patient?"

The two returned her smile as the healer responded, "Her ribs look good. Doc has some of the best magic around here. I suspect she will be able to go home soon."

Thepa nodded. "Anything on her memory?"

Rory smile faltered. "Still the same, I guess. At least I remember you from yesterday."

"Well, it's a good start," said the healer. "It's progress. No regression is a good sign. Remember, time is the greatest healer."

As they continued discussing Rory's condition, a sharp knock echoed through the room. The door creaked open, and in walked Julius and Wilran. The latter practically bounced in, face flushed, eyes wild, and buzzing with untapped energy.

"Evening Captain, evening Aurora. Lovely day were having," Wilran all but shouted. For the second time that day, Thepa caught a whiff of honey as she watched Julius holding Wilran back. Something was going on between the two of them and while Thepa thought it was suspicious, their presence could be used in her plan.

Julius, looking both exasperated and embarrassed, held her back by the arm as if trying to keep a lid on whatever was brewing inside her. "Hello Captain, Ms. Aurora," Julius said more quietly. "How are you feeling today?"

Before Rory could answer, Wilran butted in, her impatience flaring. "What's going on with our missions, Captain?"

Julius winced and shot her a look. "Wilran, manners." He turned back to Thepa, bowing slightly. "Sorry about that. It's good to see you're recovering, Ms. Aurora."

Rory returned the gesture with a slight nod. "Thanks. Still trying to piece things together. Nothing beyond a few days ago."

"Actually, it's a good thing you came," Thepa said. "I have your first mission. Healer, if you would excuse us, please."

The healer gave a polite bow and exited. As the door clicked shut, Thepa faced the group, her expression growing serious. "I want to help Rory trigger her memories by introducing her to people and places she's familiar with. We're going to her home in Wildehaven. Her foster mother passed a few completions ago, but I need you two to locate her foster brother and his wife. They know Rory better than most."

Wilran gave her a skeptical look, rubbing her temple in clear discomfort. "Isn't this a personal matter, Captain?"

Thepa resisted the urge to squirm at the question. "Fair point. Yes, I care about getting my friend back. But Rory's still crucial to Goldale, Wildehaven, and all of Sainta. Plus, she spent weeks in enemy territory. There's a chance she holds vital information."

Wilran continued rubbing her temples, her skin turning a shade paler as the smell of honey grew stronger. Yet she pressed on, determined. "What exactly do we need to do?"

"There's an old mine north of Lightmount. It's become a goblin stronghold over the last few decades. Lightmount and Wildehaven sent in two spies—a pair of polymorphed wizards disguised as goblins. Your mission is to make contact with them and bring them back to Wildehaven."

Julius's face lit up with excitement. "Goblin hunting? Count me in! But if they're polymorphed, how will we know which goblins are them?"

Before Thepa could answer, Wilran's complexion shifted from pale to green. She bent forward, looking ready to vomit, but straightened quickly, glaring daggers at Julius.

"With this," Thepa said, pulling a ring from her finger. "It's a one-of-a-kind magical object. It'll help you see through any disguises or magical concealments. Don't lose it."

Julius reached out eagerly, but Wilran snatched the ring first. "Thank you, Captain. I'll take good care of it. You can count on me," she said, saluting sharply. Julius looked like he was about to protest, but the glare Wilran shot him shut him down. Together, they left the room, Wilran practically storming out.

As the door closed behind them, Rory frowned. "There's a strange scent. I can't place it."

Before Thepa could respond, Wilran's raised voice came through the door. "Think you're clever with your little charm, do you?"

"Look, that was—" Julius's voice was muffled but tense.

"I don't care what it was!" Wilran snapped. "I am not something you can just take out and play with... and you know... if you had just asked, I would have said yes to helping you. Try something like that on me or anyone else in the team again and I will mess you up so bad that not even the divine Goddess would be able to fix you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

There was a long pause before Julius's meek reply reached their ears. "Yes."

When Thepa was sure there was going to be no more interruptions, she gave Rory the book she found at the inn.

"Let's get you home."