The scrap district, just thinking about it made Enyah grimace. A casualty of the Modullah, the district was abandoned and renamed to suit its new state. Darkness pervaded through every corner and the lack of life invited unease. In the other sections of the port, the candlelit homes provided some sense of security, but no longer.

To think that someone, a noble, no less, would bunker up someplace like here made her blood curdle. A sense of wary curiosity brought itself out. She moved along the rotten path, the ruins of homes surrounding her on either side.

“Haven’t been here since the Modullah.” The thought brought out a frown. The bodies were buried, but she could still see them, even now. Faces she once knew stared back at her from within the mud and ruin.

She pressed on until the street widened into an empty area, dimly lit by the occasional brazier. Once, a statue of Trallix stood tall here. Now it was ruin, like the rest of the area. She stopped, looking back with narrowed eyes.

“You can come out now.” Enyah called, her voice piercing through the rain.

Save for the downpour, silence answered. Then, moments later, three cloaked figures, with their soaked rags rustling, scurried from behind a pile of rubble. Their hunched figures made them appear diminutive, but their movements were unnatural.

The one in the center raised his head, his voice nasal and high, “How did you sniff us out?” Enyah’s gaze fell onto the large ears poking through their cloaks. It was inhuman, sharp and ragged. Ferals.

A product of the Mist. Enyah tsked internally. The Mist caused all the problems in Lakreia. A natural drug, the Mist gives power, forcefully evolving those lucky enough to be compatible enough to survive its brutality. The Ferals are proof of its benefits and its snags. Thinking about it made Enyah cringe.

“Well well, what’s a Feral doing at this time in the scrap district?” She enquired calmly, hiding her anger at the interruption.

“We’re here for you, girl.” The Feral croaked, a sharp, toothy grin shone underneath the cloak. “You’re protecting our quarry.”

Enyah’s anger gave way to a new emotion. A bloodthirst that brought a grin to her face to match the Feral. Unholstering her flintlock, she pointed it at the lead man.

“Are you ready to die for your prey?” Enyah retorted confidently while pulling back the hammer with a click. “One step closer and I'll put lead in your skull. Courtesy of the Mist Foundation.”

The Feral let out a hiss, recoiling onto four limbs. His forelimbs were unnatural. Long, sharp claws gripped the ground, leaving deep scratches in their wake.

“Let’s charge ‘er. Can’t get all three of us at once.” Another Feral roared, licking the lips of his salivating mouth.

“No, no. None of us are dying here. Not yet.” The leader assured, standing back up with his arms hidden. “We just have to be smart-like.”

Their display of camaraderie might have touched Enyah's heart years ago, but now she glared at a reflection of herself years younger. Memories she’d buried resurfaced. Ones where she was just like them, Desolate and living by the day. The desperate are prey for the powerful: the key truth she learned from destitution.

“Gotta…” He started only to be interrupted by a deafening screech.

The sound tore through the rain, disorienting Enyah. It sounded as if nails were relentlessly raking stone. She steadied herself as the Ferals launched themselves at her, claws outstretched.

Like many times before, Enyah shot her gun, the aim skewed before swiftly rolling to the side, creating distance. The feral grunt of pain she heard indicated success, though the fight wasn’t over yet.

She sprang to her feet, unsheathing a cutlass in rapid speed. She had no time to think as she deftly raised her sword, The sound of steel against claw ringing before Enyah sent the Feral reeling with a sharp kick.

Enyah felt a pang of warning inside and rapidly ducked from an incoming talon aimed right at her throat. The attacker snarled and received an uppercut in return with the sword’s pommel. A slash to the chest bit deep, she could smell the tang of blood in the air..

They were giving her no reprieve, Enyah grimaced as she backed up, parrying the leader’s blow. His snarling face mere inches from hers, his breath rancid and rotten.

“I’ll kill you!” He warbled, striking with his free hand. A twist of her body dodged the blow, but before she could retaliate he paced backwards to his allies, holding his wounded shoulder.

“Aaaah.” The leader rasped, twisted amusement in his voice. A grin of understanding spawned on his face, glinting in the rain. “You’re one of us aren't you? Took a bath in the Mist, did you. What boon has the Mist given you I wonder?”

“What’s he up to? Either way, he must love to hear himself talk.” Enyah considered, hawking the man with narrowed eyes.

“Is it… Forewarning?” He murmured aloud to a silent audience. During his speech, Enyah reached to her shoulder and bit a purple ball with her teeth from a pouch. The metallic, bitter taste permeating in her mouth.

“Maybe intuition?” He continued, oblivious to Enyah’s actions.

Enyah spat the ball into the barrel of her flintlock, loading it with precision. “Or maybe you just talk too much.” She interrupted, a smirk lining her face.

The leader chuckled at her voice, unconcerned. “All you have to do.” He said, raising his arms dramatically. “Is make an attack that can’t be parried. And…” He paused, his grin growing, covering over half his face.

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“Boom.”

Enyah’s chest tightened. A prickling sensation surged through her body, warning signs firing in every direction. Letting instinct take over, she dove to the side as an explosion tore through the air surrounding her. Mud hurled all around her as an explosion rocked her senses.

The square slowed around her as she fell on her knees, smoke billowing through the rain. For a moment, the world was quiet. The rain, the blast, all muting into a dull hum.

“Is she dead?” A voice asked, muffled and distant.

“How would I know?” The leader snarled with triumph. “We’ll hear her squirming after the trash falls.”

“We’ll eat her, right? Right?” Another voice piped in, trembling with hunger and excitement.

Enyah groaned, pushing herself to her knees. Her fingers dug into the mud as she forced herself up, her breathing rapid and heavy. The smoke stung in her eyes and the figures of the three ferals were unknown to her.

He must have laid explosions while they fought.

“Crazy Feral.” She muttered under her breath, wiping the mud off her face with the back of her hand. She exhaled, lowering herself into a crouch, “Alright. Round two then.”

The world finally stood still, save for the constant hum of rain against wood. Smoke swirled around her, clinging to the ground, as if alive. Enyah crept through it, her eyes scanning for movement.

“We hear you…” A high pitch coo echoed in the smoke.

A prickle, left.

Enyah stepped back just as claws raked the air, her blade meeting them with a spark highlighting a wrinkled, animalistic face for a moment. The fog swallowed it before she could react. More pricks came from different directions, forcing her to duck and weave within the smoke, occasionally striking back when she could. Her blade whistled through the air, striking claw and flesh. The Ferals circled around her, striking with coordinated yet random attacks. She held her ground, parrying and dodging with precision.

The rain pushed the smoke downwards, becoming wispy trails at Enyah’s boots. Shadows turned into shapes and she saw them. Three figures hunched in the rain.

Without hesitation, Enyah raised her flintlock and with a large crack, her shot sent one of the Ferals sprawling to the ground. Blood mixed into the water, vanishing into the muddy ground.

“Pim!” The leader cried, his snarl cracking with humanlike emotions. He scrambled towards the figure. limbs flailing against the mud. He trembled in anguish and fury watching the slow rise and fall of the limp body. He turned back to Enyah, who watched their actions neutrally as his voice shook in rage. “You…”

“Don’t blame me.” Enyah spoke, her face a mask of calm, hiding her emotions. “You chose this path. You should be prepared for death.” Her voice was steady, but she felt her own words deep inside. They were for herself just as much as him.

“Grrr.” He growled, his face marred in anguish as his claws carved the mud.

“Maybe we shouldn't do this, boss.” The other Feral gasped in pain, clasping a bloodied gash on his stomach. “We could just go. The information on her would be worth a nice coin. We could just leave.”

“Leave?” The leader spit, his furred face in shock and anger. “You want us to run? Beg? You want us to go back to the scraps? We’re strong. I won’t run again. I won’t beg again.” His voice hardened as he looked at the body that fell still. “She killed Pim.”

“And unless you got any more bombs, what can we do?” The other feral observed, blood flowing from him like the rain and his face paling. “We’ll just die with Pim.”

“Then I’ll die fighting. For the perfect world.” The leader steadied his gaze, full of fanatic devotion. His eyes didn’t seem to see Enyah, rather seeing some other vision.

Enyah frowned. The perfect world, a belief from an old religion. How did the noble brat manage to enrage the Replian faith? This request’s becoming more troublesome by the hour.

With a shake of his head, he reverted back to a snarl, hissing at her. “Do you find us a joke? Watching us like some play.”

“No.” Enyah denied quietly. “You’re my enemy, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve respect.” Her eyes reflected days long ago, where Drantei said the same thing. She could hear his voice, deep and confident. Even enemies deserve respect, Enyah. We aren’t beasts, but people.

“The mercenary thinks herself a knight. How pathetic.” He snorted, an unknown emotion on his face, confusion, respect? Enyah couldn’t tell. He quickly hid it for disdain. “How much gold would it take you to bark like a dog for me?”

A roll of the eyes was Enyah's response. “More than you'd ever earn. You gonna fight, or yap all night?” She idly holstered her gun, a confident smirk staring into the rat man.

Above them, the Wild Moon shone on the area, turning the rain a crimson red, as if the sky itself was bleeding as the battlefield was painted in shades of red.

"The moon’s watching us." Enyah eyed the sky warily. A flicker of fear for just a moment. "An omen? An entertained God, or something worse." The Ferals, however, only glared at her, as if they hadn't even noticed the shift in colors around them.

“Tough words.” The leader growled, his claws extended. Looking at the other Feral, he snarled. “Are you coming, or are you begging?”

“...I’m coming.” He sighed, his voice heavy with resignation, as though he were already dead. “For the perfect world.” He muttered quietly, his voice lost in the rain.

The leader exchanged a glance with his remaining ally before turning back. Then, with a single hiss they both sprinted towards Enyah, charging on all four limbs like beasts, their faces gleaming in scarlet under the moon’s glow.

Enyah raised her cutlass, bracing herself against the approaching Ferals. In less than a blink, they were upon her.

She felt the familiar prickle of forewarning stirring within her mind, but she pushed it aside.She resolved to use her ability this time. Confidence surged within her, built from years of experience. “If there’s a God looking for some fun, I’m going to give it to them.”

Claws struck at her, she quickly intercepted with a swift parry. Another sharp hand lunged at her. Grabbing hold with her free hand, the Feral was released only after a kick to the gut, skidding through the muddy ground. She whirled around just in time to meet the other attacker, driving a knee tinto his bloodied stomach. He stumbled away in pain, clutching his stomach.

Now, only the Leader remained.

With a guttural snarl, he lept into the air, moon at his back. His stomach was exposed, whether a bait or oversight, she swung her cutlass with precision, aiming for blood. However, he blocked her sword with his clawed hands, stopping it mid swing. His feet lashed out against her head in retaliation. She ducked, narrowly avoiding the strike. As she straightened, a few red locks of hair floated to the ground, severed by his attack.

He was still within arm’s reach and launched a new assault, slashing low and aiming for her legs. She jumped back only to receive a slash to her face. She managed to raise her cutlass in time to block his second strike, the force of the blow shaking her arms.

“You've gotten slow, mutt.” The leader snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. “Is that all the Mist offered you?”

Enyah didn’t respond, but rather went onto the offensive. She lunged forward, her cutlass weaving through the air in an arc at his chest. He backstepped, but his foot slipped on the muddied wood. He stumbled, and her blade found itself carving a deep gash on his arm..

From the corner of her eyes, Enyah caught movement. The other Feral, bleeding profusely and struggling to stand, stumbled towards her, loyalty spurring every step.

The effort was in vain as Enyah, in one quick motion, slashed his neck. His body dropped onto the mud, the rain pounding upon his lifeless corpse.

The leader turned for a moment, wide eyes betraying his shock. “Frant…” He muttered, grief quickly giving way to rage as he dashed with a growl at Enyah, ignoring his injury. His eyes full of determination, he attacked in a frenzy, both clawed hands scraping relentlessly upon Enyah.

“Die! Die die die die!” He roared, striking with abandon. His voice cracked, strained by his emotions.

Enyah held her ground, blocking them all accurately, her blade dancing under the rain. His strikes were desperate, but growing weaker. She saw her opening and slashed across his chest.

He faltered, wheezing, before falling to the ground. Blood pooled beneath him as he struggled to stand up before falling to the floor in a heap, his strength leaving him.

Enyah stood over him, gently sheathing her cutlass, bloodied and soaked in the rain. Her gaze softened as she looked down at him.

“Not going to let me go as quick as the others, huh.” He rasped, his voice soft and vulnerable. She leaned down, propping up the Feral with her arms. His cloak had slipped, revealing his face. It was small, barely an adult. His matted fur clung to his gaunt frame, and his amber eyes were piercing as he stared at her with defiance. She closed her eyes for a few moments, mulling inside, before reopening them.

“What's your name?” She asked in frustration, hiding a softness known only to her. His eyes widened a smidgen at her question.

“My name? It's Sterin.” He paused, gasping for air. “And there's Pim and Frant. Will you remember it?” His eyes stared up at her, as if pleading.

A faint smile appeared on her face. “Yes, Sterin, I'll remember all of you. You fought like a warrior. Brave and unrelenting.” Her voice was gentle, placating, as if speaking to her own child.

“A warrior, huh…” He spoke, his voice barely audible in the rain. A flicker of peace shone on his face. “I'm glad…” And then he stilled. Life left his body and once again Enyah was alone.

For a long moment, she stared at the body with a heavy heart. Minutes ago they were enemies, but all Enyah could see now was someone like her. Someone who had struggled, who had been lost, and who needed someone to reach out. He wasn’t lucky enough to have someone like Drantei to pick them out of the gutter.

She carefully lifted the bodies, almost reverently, before gently dropping them off into the waters below. One by one they sank, deep into the dark waters to be taken away.

“Let these souls feast in the everlasting banquet.” She prayed softly, clasping her hands together in devotion to Trallix. Her only response was the encompassing darkness as the clouds once again swallowed the Wild Moon's glow.

With a deep breath, Enyah turned and walked away. The bodies were gone and her work was done. Only the darkness and the pouring rain accompanied Enyah now as she set off for her client.