As the ship's hull groaned against the weathered dock pilings, Ari leaned over the salt-crusted bulwark, her fingers gripping the worn wood as if anchoring herself to something solid in a world that felt increasingly unmoored. The capital of the Likaon Coast sprawled before her like a merchant's tapestry - vibrant, chaotic, and utterly foreign.
Valkrath cascaded down the hillside in terraced layers, its architecture a stark departure from Kar-Ah's graceful curves and sacred spires. Here, sharp-roofed towers jutted skyward like wolves' fangs, their slate tiles glinting darkly in the afternoon sun. Brick-layered commercial buildings crowded close to the wharfs, their facades adorned with wrought-iron balconies that overflowed with hanging plants and drying laundry. Shop signs swayed in the coastal breeze - carved wood and hammered metal announcing cobblers, fishmongers, weapon smiths, and fortune tellers in languages Ari could only partially decipher.
The salt-thick air carried sounds utterly unlike home: the guttural bark of Likaon merchants haggling in their native tongue, the rhythmic clanging of shipwrights' hammers, the haunting call of gulls that seemed to mock her with their freedom. The scent was different too - not the incense and cherry blossoms of the Theocracy, but fish oil and tar, exotic spices and unwashed bodies pressed too close together.
And looming behind it all, perched atop the highest hill like a predator surveying its territory, stood the Citadel.
Ari's breath caught in her throat. The fortress was a massive cube of black stone, its surfaces so dark they seemed to devour the sunlight rather than reflect it. The architecture was brutally simple - no ornate carvings, no delicate spires reaching toward the divine. Just raw, geometric power carved from shadow itself. This was where she would meet Kreaton. This was where her carefully constructed future would either solidify or shatter.
None of them were ever heard from again.
The captain's words echoed in her mind, a funeral bell she couldn't silence. Her fingers tightened on the bulwark until her knuckles went white, the wood grain pressing patterns into her palms.
"Miss Ari?"
She startled, spinning to find Mr. Arashika approaching with measured steps, his two guards flanking him like silent pillars. The diplomat's usual stern expression had softened fractionally - not quite sympathy, but something approaching it. Recognition, perhaps, of what this moment meant.
"How do you feel, young lady?" His voice was low, pitched for her ears alone despite the chaos of the docks around them.
Ari drew herself up, forcing her shoulders back and her chin high - the posture her mother had drilled into her since childhood. A High Priestess's daughter does not slouch. A High Priestess's daughter does not show weakness. "I'm fine. Really. No need to worry." The words came out steadier than she'd expected, though they tasted like ash on her tongue. "I'll meet with Kreaton and do my part."
Something flickered across Arashika's weathered face - approval, perhaps, or recognition of a particularly convincing lie. He paused, seeming to weigh his next words with the precision of someone accustomed to navigating treacherous diplomatic waters. "You don't need to be ashamed of feeling uneasy," he said quietly, stepping closer so the dockworkers wouldn't overhear. "We all have moments of doubt. I've watched seasoned ambassadors vomit into chamber pots before crucial negotiations." His lips quirked in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "But remember - they don't care how we feel. Only what we accomplish. Show them strength, even if it's borrowed. Especially if it's borrowed."
The unexpected honesty loosened something in Ari's chest. A small, genuine smile escaped before she could restrain it. "It's comforting to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."
Arashika gave a solemn nod, then gestured to his guards. "I have diplomatic matters to attend to at the embassy - trade agreements that won't negotiate themselves. Your guards will see you safely to the Citadel." Together they disembarked, merging into the living river of humanity that flowed through Valkrath's streets - merchants shouting in multiple languages, sailors hauling cargo, children darting between adults like quicksilver fish through kelp.
Ari turned to find Samuel and Frost waiting nearby, patient as stone sentinels. Samuel - the easygoing one who'd been so miserably seasick - was fidgeting with his sword's leather strap, his fingers working the supple material with nervous energy. Despite his discomfort on the voyage, his expression now carried determination. Frost stood like carved granite, his sharp blue eyes scanning every person, every shadow, every potential threat with the practiced vigilance of someone who'd seen too many things go wrong.
"Are you two ready?" Ari asked, injecting false confidence into her voice like armor she didn't quite fit into yet.
"Couldn't be more," Frost replied, his voice carrying the flat certainty of an oath.
Samuel grinned, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Shouldn't we be asking you that, Princess?"
The trio descended onto the docks, moving through the labyrinth of activity. The salty tang of the sea mixed with the heady bouquet of spices drifting from nearby market stalls - cinnamon and cardamom, pepper and something sweet Ari couldn't identify. Passing the docks, they entered a marketplace that made Kar-Ah's orderly commerce seem sedate by comparison.
Here was organized chaos: craftsmen displayed their wares under brightly colored awnings that snapped in the wind like the sails of beached ships. Their goods ranged from intricate jewelry that caught the light like captured stars, to finely honed weapons that promised violence, to beautifully carved wooden furniture that spoke of patient craftsmanship. Children darted through the crowd like schools of minnows, their laughter mingling with the bartering shouts of merchants who hawked their wares in languages that blended together into a polyglot symphony.
Ari's pace slowed despite herself, her gaze drawn to the vibrant displays. A vendor demonstrated a mechanical toy - a wooden bird that flapped its wings when wound. Another arranged glass bottles filled with colored liquids that promised everything from love to luck to long life. The intricate details in every crafted item spoke of traditions entirely foreign to her, of different gods and different dreams.
Frost, always focused, frowned - clearly eager to keep her on task. His hand hovered near his sword hilt, not threatening, but ready. But Samuel seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes trailing the marketplace attractions with the appreciation of someone discovering wonders. His gaze lingered perhaps a moment too long on passing merchants... and the occasional flirtatious glance from local girls whose eyes sparkled with interest at the foreign guardsmen.
They stopped beside a fountain, its cool waters glistening in the sunlight as the sound of splashing offered a momentary reprieve from the city's cacophony. The fountain depicted three wolves drinking together - symbolic, Ari suspected, of the Likaon people's tribal heritage. Water arced from their stone mouths in crystalline streams.
Frost's patience finally wore thin. "We were supposed to head straight to the Citadel," he said, a hint of impatience edging his normally controlled tone.
Ari sighed, rolling her eyes in a gesture so casual it momentarily felt like she was just a girl exploring a new city, not a bride walking toward her doom. "Can't you just enjoy the city a little? The meeting isn't going anywhere. Samuel, what do you think?"
Caught off guard, Samuel scratched his head, flashing a sheepish grin that made him look years younger. "Well, I have to admit, I'm enjoying this a bit." His eyes glinted as they followed the passing figures - though whether he meant the architecture or the attractive locals remained diplomatically ambiguous. "There's... a lot of beautiful sights here."
Ari's expression shifted immediately, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a look that could have frozen the fountain's flowing water. The disappointment on her face was unmistakable.
"Fine, Frost. You win. Let's go to the Citadel."
As they turned toward the path up the hill, Samuel leaned closer to Frost, his voice lowered to a confused whisper. "Did I say something wrong? She changed her mind so fast."
Ari's ears - ever sharp, a benefit of her kitsune heritage - caught his words despite his attempt at discretion. "I thought you were enjoying the city with me," she remarked, her voice cold enough to match the fountain's spray, "not getting distracted by 'beautiful sights.' Why do men always have to be like this?"
Frost rolled his eyes, shooting Samuel an exasperated look that spoke volumes about long partnership and familiar frustration. He nudged him forward with an elbow to the ribs. "He's special," he muttered, gesturing toward the city's uphill path with resigned acceptance.
As they gathered both their mental fortitude and physical strength to ascend the hill - a climb that looked even more daunting from this angle - they were unexpectedly interrupted by a soft, almost musical voice.
"Excuse me."
Ari turned to find a young kitsune girl standing there, her delicate fox-like ears twitching with curiosity, and her fluffy tail swaying behind her in excited arcs. She couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, with bright amber eyes that widened as she gazed at Ari. A look of pure admiration lit up her youthful face, the kind of hero-worship that made Ari simultaneously uncomfortable and oddly touched.
"Wow!" the girl exclaimed, her hands clasped together in a gesture that bordered on prayer. "What a beautiful girl you are! And a kitsune... just like me! You can't be from around here. Are you a tourist?"
The eagerness in her voice was infectious, reminding Ari of simpler times - of Asuka and Marika pestering her in the academy gardens, of young Phoenix's boundless energy before everything became complicated.
Ari tilted her head slightly, her expression soft but guarded - the diplomatic mask she was learning to wear more comfortably. "Kinda. We're not staying here for long."
"Where are you from? The Theocracy, by any chance?" The question tumbled out quickly, each word tripping over the last in excitement.
"Indeed, we are from the Theocracy," Ari replied with calm composure, though she noticed Frost's posture stiffening slightly beside her. His hand had moved almost imperceptibly closer to his sword.
At this confirmation, the young girl brought her hands together in a quick prayer, her face shining with reverence that went beyond mere admiration. It was the look of someone seeing a piece of home in a foreign land. "You see, there aren't many kitsune here anymore, so it's rare to see any of our folk. The old families... they moved away, or..." She trailed off, something sad flickering across her features before enthusiasm reasserted itself. "Do you know the city, or are you first-timers?" Her energy seemed boundless as she took a step closer to Ari with each word, closing the distance with innocent eagerness.
Ari hesitated, awareness of Frost's growing tension beside her. Before she could answer, he leaned in and whispered firmly, his breath warm against her ear, "You said we're going."
"We are," Ari whispered back, a glint of mischief sparking in her eye - the first genuine playfulness she'd felt since leaving the ship. "But having a guide wouldn't hurt, right?" She turned back to the girl with a disarming smile that made the young kitsune's tail wag even faster. "We're first-timers, and we need to get to the Citadel. Could you help us?"
"I can!" the girl chirped, practically bouncing on her toes, her tail creating figure-eights in the air behind her. "No problem at all! But before that, you have to visit Hirako's shrine. It's just a short detour! Every kitsune who visits Valkrath goes there - it's tradition!"
"Ari..." Frost muttered, his tone carrying equal parts frustration and pleading. The single word contained entire paragraphs of objection.
Ari turned to him, her expression shifting to something more serious, reminding him of exactly who she was beyond the girl he'd been tasked to protect. "I'm the heir of the High Priestess," she whispered firmly, invoking the authority she so rarely wielded. "Visiting Hirako's shrine is one of my duties. Mother would expect it. And frankly, I want to see how our goddess is honored here."
Frost sighed, a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his soul - recognition of defeat against both duty and determination. He resigned himself to the detour with the grace of someone who'd learned when arguments were futile. Samuel, ever the quiet observer who avoided conflict when possible, followed without complaint, though his expression suggested he was already calculating how much longer this journey would take.
The young kitsune girl practically skipped ahead, leading them through Valkrath's winding streets with the confidence of someone who'd walked these paths a thousand times. They passed through districts that shifted character with each turn: a section where blacksmiths' forges roared and metal rang against metal; a quieter area where scholars debated in outdoor cafes, their voices rising and falling in academic passion; a residential quarter where laundry hung between buildings like colorful flags and children's toys littered doorsteps.
The shrine was a small yet tranquil sanctuary, nestled atop an open rooftop that offered a panoramic view of the bustling city below. It was so different from the grand temple in Kar-Ah that Ari felt a momentary disconnect - as if she'd discovered that a familiar song had different lyrics in another land.
Surrounding the shrine were carefully tended flower beds, though the blossoms remained stubbornly closed, waiting for spring's permission to bloom. Autumn clung to them still, a reminder that seasons turned the same everywhere, regardless of politics or arranged marriages. At the center stood a weathered stone pillar - ancient, by the look of it, worn smooth by decades of weather and reverent touches - supporting a modest wooden canopy whose paint had faded to soft pastels.
Beneath it rested the statue of Hirako.
Ari approached with quiet reverence, the young kitsune girl by her side matching her solemn pace. Frost and Samuel remained two steps behind, standing guard in respectful silence. Even Samuel's usual levity had been replaced by something more thoughtful - recognition, perhaps, that they stood in a place that mattered.
The weather shifted as they stood there, as if responding to their presence. A light drizzle began to fall - soft, gentle, more mist than rain. Unbothered by it, Ari stepped closer to the statue, her gaze tracing the delicate details of the carving with the appreciation of someone who understood such work.
Hirako was depicted as a nine-tailed kitsune, but so different from the representations in the Theocracy that Ari felt she was meeting a different aspect of the goddess entirely. Here, Hirako was draped in a thick woolen coat rather than flowing silk robes - practical, protective, motherly. Her hands were pressed together in a gesture of prayer, a rosary draped gracefully over her fingers, each bead carved with individual precision. Her eyes were closed, her expression serene - not the dynamic, vibrant energy of the Kar-Ah statues, but something quieter. Deeper. Cascading locks of stone-carved hair flowed down her back, and her nine tails were gathered closely together rather than spread in display, symbolizing unity and strength through closeness rather than power through expansion.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" the young kitsune girl asked, her voice soft with pride and something more - the devotion of someone for whom this statue represented connection to heritage, to home, to identity in a place where such things were increasingly rare.
"It is," Ari replied, her tone thoughtful, carefully diplomatic even in this sacred space. "But it's different from how we depict her in the Theocracy. There, she's shown in light gowns, her ears upright, and her tails spread wide in all directions. It gives her an air of energy and action - as if she's constantly moving, constantly blessing, constantly present."
The girl's face lit up with understanding and the pleasure of sharing something precious. "My father carved this statue," she explained, and suddenly Ari understood the pride in her voice ran deeper than patriotism. "This was his vision of her - as the radiant mother of our race, bringing light and calm to our lives. He said..." She paused, her eyes growing slightly distant with memory. "He said that sometimes strength isn't about reaching out, but about holding close. Keeping warm what matters most."
The words struck Ari with unexpected force. Keeping warm what matters most. Wasn't that what she was doing? Leaving behind everything she loved to protect it from a distance?
She smiled, genuinely impressed by the devotion reflected in the stone. Closing her eyes, she offered a silent prayer, her lips moving in words only Hirako could hear: Mother of our people, grant me the strength to do what must be done. Grant me the wisdom to see the path forward. Grant me the courage to walk it, even when every step takes me further from home. And if I am to be another who is never heard from again... let my silence at least purchase something worthwhile.
As she finished, the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, as if the goddess had heard and offered acknowledgment. A sense of calm settled over the shrine, the kind that only sacred spaces could invoke - a momentary suspension of the world's chaos, a pocket of peace carved from time itself.
The young kitsune girl seemed to recognize the moment's significance, remaining quiet until Ari's eyes opened. Then her irrepressible energy returned in full force.
"I will lead you to the Citadel," she declared with cheerful confidence that suggested she'd appointed herself Ari's personal guide for the duration of her stay. Her demeanor shifted abruptly, her vibrant energy bubbling over as she added, "But what kind of tour would it be if we didn't stop by an inn to try some local food first? There's this place that makes the most amazing - "
Ari chuckled softly, charmed despite herself by the girl's enthusiasm. Her warm smile hinted at approval - what harm could one meal do? What difference would an hour make when she was walking toward eternity? "That sounds - "
"We don't have time for - " Frost interjected, his sense of duty overriding any appreciation for local cuisine or the simple pleasure of delaying the inevitable.
"It's settled," Ari interrupted with a playfulness that surprised even herself, ignoring Frost's objections with the casual authority of nobility. She gave a small shrug that managed to convey both apology and determination. "Lead the way."
Frost sighed heavily - a sound that had become his primary form of communication today - reluctantly falling in step. Samuel trailed behind them in his customary silence, though Ari caught him exchanging an amused glance with Frost. Even her guards, it seemed, appreciated seeing her show some spark of life.
They descended the steps of the shrine, its peaceful aura fading as the narrow alleys of Valkrath enclosed them once more. The city's sounds rushed back - the ambient noise that had been somehow muted in Hirako's presence returning in full force.
As they rounded a corner into an alley that smelled of damp stone and old cooking oil, the lively atmosphere shifted suddenly. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees, though whether that was real or imagined, Ari couldn't say.
A shadowy figure stood in the middle of the alley, shrouded in a black cloak that seemed to absorb light rather than merely block it. The figure's presence was foreboding - an unnatural stillness radiating from it like cold from ice. Even the usual city sounds seemed muted here, as if the world had decided this confrontation deserved quiet.
"Stay back," Frost muttered sharply, the words barely more than a growl. He stepped in front of Ari and the girl with fluid grace, his body becoming a shield, his hand moving to his sword hilt with practiced efficiency. Samuel mirrored the movement without hesitation, his earlier levity vanishing as professional training took over. Both guards positioned themselves protectively, their bodies creating a wall between the women and potential threat.
The cloaked figure shifted, taking a deliberate step forward that somehow contained menace despite its slowness. Beneath the hood, no features could be seen - only a void of shadow that suggested either mask or something worse. The effect was deeply unsettling, as if they faced not a person but a hole in the world shaped like one.
Frost opened his mouth to demand identification, the words already forming, but before he could utter them, the figure spoke in a low, cold voice that seemed to echo off the alley walls despite its quietness.
"You, girl." A slender, pale arm emerged from the folds of the cloak - skin so pale it was almost luminescent in the shadow, fingers long and somehow wrong in proportions that were just slightly off from human. Its bony finger pointed directly at the young kitsune girl with accusatory precision. "I know who you are. You are Omerta."
The girl froze as if struck by lightning or turned to stone by basilisk gaze. Her vibrant confidence evaporated in an instant, replaced by wide-eyed terror that transformed her features into something that broke Ari's heart. Her hands trembled, small movements that grew larger as fear took hold. Sweat beaded on her brow despite the cool air, despite the earlier rain that had left everything damp and chill.
"Run," the figure hissed, the word cutting through the air like a blade drawn from a sheath. "Run, or it will get ugly."
The girl hesitated, her body paralyzed as her instincts battled with fear. Fight or flight struggled for dominance, leaving her caught between impossibilities. The figure remained still, an impenetrable wall between her and any escape past it - but also, notably, leaving the path behind her open.
"Go!" the voice barked, sharp and commanding, carrying military precision and unexpected urgency. "I won't stab you in the back."
The promise - if it could be called that - seemed to break whatever spell held her. The girl jolted into motion, darting forward with a desperate burst of speed that sent her small form flying past the cloaked figure. She ran with the panic of prey that has glimpsed the predator's teeth, her footsteps echoing in the narrow alley like drumbeats. True to its word, the figure didn't move - didn't strike, didn't pursue. Ari and the others watched as the girl turned the corner and disappeared from sight, her presence vanishing as abruptly as it had arrived. The sound of her running footsteps faded until only silence remained.
Frost's voice was a growl as he stepped forward, his sword now fully drawn, the blade catching what little light filtered into the alley. "Who are you? What's the meaning of this?"
The figure lowered its hood in a deliberate motion that seemed almost theatrical - revealing not horror, but humanity. It was a young woman, her dark hair tied back in a practical ponytail that had seen wind and weather. Her smooth features were marred by faint scars - the kind that spoke of combat and survival rather than accidents. Her piercing brown eyes locked onto Frost's with unyielding intensity, unflinching despite facing two armed guards and their noble charge.
"You can put your swords away," she said calmly, her voice steady and unafraid, carrying the confidence of someone who knew exactly how dangerous she was and exactly how unnecessary violence would be. "I'm not here to harm you."
Neither Frost nor Samuel moved. Their hands stayed firmly on their weapons, professional distrust clear in their stances. They'd been soldiers long enough to know that words cost nothing and meant less.
"What just happened?" Ari asked, her chin nearly brushing the shoulders of her guards as she leaned between them. The tension in the air didn't stop her - if anything, it pushed her forward. Her tone was sharper than usual, carrying authority she'd inherited from her mother and was finally learning to wield.
"Who was that girl, and why did you threaten her?"
The woman's gaze shifted to Ari, her expression softening slightly - not quite warmth, but recognition of someone worthy of respect. "That girl - the one who was so eager to guide you - was Omerta. A mercenary." She let the words hang for a moment, watching comprehension dawn. "Hired by an influential warlord from the Tundra. A man known only as Baron."
"Omerta?" Ari echoed, her brows furrowing. The name meant nothing to her, but the way this woman said it suggested it should.
"A hunter," the woman clarified, her tone grave as a judge pronouncing sentence. "Her specialty? Her target?" A pause for effect. "Kitsune girls like you. Young, noble, valuable. Had I not intervened when I did, she would have captured you - likely with drugged tea at that inn she was so eager to take you to. You would have awakened in chains, bound for Baron's slave markets in the Tundra. And these two..." She gestured briefly at Frost and Samuel with something that might have been respect. "They would have fought bravely. And they would likely be dead, their bodies left in that alley as a message to anyone else who tried to interfere."
The weight of her words hung in the air like smoke from a funeral pyre. Frost's grip on his sword loosened slightly, though his expression remained hard as flint. Samuel exchanged a wary glance with him - communication flowing in that silent language of long partnership - before slowly lowering his weapon, though he didn't sheath it.
Ari stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied the stranger with new appreciation and persistent suspicion. "You were watching us. Following us. And now you've protected me from her." She tilted her head slightly, a gesture that would have seemed innocent if not for the steel in her voice. "You know who I am, don't you?"
"I do," the woman replied without hesitation, no attempt at pretense or deflection. "Rosviel's younger daughter. The High Priestess's heir. The bride being sent to Kreaton." Her lips quirked in something that wasn't quite a smile. "And you might know me as well. Or at least, you might know where I'm from."
Ari's expression shifted from suspicion to curiosity, though wariness remained. "Who are you?"
"My name is Kali," the woman said, her lips curving into a faint smile that suggested she was enjoying this reveal despite - or perhaps because of - the circumstances. "I'm from Mushoku Village."
Samuel stiffened at the name, his entire body going rigid. He leaned toward Frost, his whisper carrying in the alley's acoustics despite his attempt at discretion. "Mushoku... isn't that - "
Ari answered before he could finish, her education serving her well. "The village that served as the Theocracy's trump card decades ago. The covert operations division that officially doesn't exist." Her eyes widened slightly as implications cascaded through her mind. "They trained the best spies and assassins in the known world. Agents who could infiltrate anywhere, eliminate anyone, extract any information. Until..." She paused, searching her memory for details from lessons that had seemed like ancient history. "Until the schism. When Mushoku Village cut ties with the Theocracy and disappeared into independence."
"Exactly," Kali said, crossing her arms in a posture that managed to seem both casual and ready for violence. "But as with all historical accounts, the reality is more complicated. We can talk about history later, though. Right now, I have a request."
Ari's eyes narrowed further, diplomatic instincts engaging. "A request. How interesting that you'd threaten a potential kidnapper, save a High Priestess's daughter, reveal your village's legendary status, and then immediately ask for something in return." Her tone carried dry amusement. "You're either very confident or very desperate. Which is it?"
Kali's smile widened fractionally - appreciation for someone who understood the game. "A bit of both, perhaps. Mushoku Village is divided," she explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone that suggested this matter weighed heavily. "Some wish to remain independent - suspicious of all outside powers, trusting only ourselves. Others want to reestablish ties with the Theocracy - to return to purpose, to meaning beyond mere survival." She paused, her eyes holding Ari's with intensity. "I belong to the latter. Spread this information to your mother and the cardinals. Let them know there are still those who remember the old oaths. Who honor the old ways. Who are loyal."
Ari considered the request carefully, weighing implications and potential consequences with a political mind she hadn't known she possessed until recently. Intelligence from within Mushoku Village would be invaluable to the Theocracy. But could Kali be trusted? Was this genuine loyalty or elaborate deception?
Then again, she'd just saved Ari from slavery and potential death. That had to count for something.
"I'll tell them," Ari decided, nodding with the formal grace of someone making an official promise. "You have my word. When I return to Kar-Ah I'll relay your message to my mother and the cardinals."
Kali's smile grew wider, genuine pleasure replacing calculated diplomacy. "Thank you, Princess. That's all I ask."
She turned to leave, her movements fluid as water, and Ari felt a sudden impulse - a desire to extend this moment of connection with someone who'd shown her more genuine kindness than political calculation.
"Wait!" Ari called after her. "Would you join us? Maybe grab something to eat at the inn? Apparently not the one Omerta was going to take us to, but surely there's somewhere safe in this city."
Kali shook her head, regret flickering across her features. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, just like you. My little brother's in town somewhere - he has a tendency to get into trouble - and I need to find him before he does something that requires me to interfere." She said it with such casual matter-of-factness that it took a moment for the words to register. "Besides, I suspect you've been delayed enough already. That Citadel isn't getting any closer while you stand here talking to me."
Without another word, Kali turned and walked away until the crowd swallowed her. The mundane exit somehow made her more impressive, suggesting such confidence that theatrics were unnecessary.
The group stood in silence for a long moment, each lost in their thoughts, processing what had just happened and what might have happened if Kali hadn't intervened.
Finally, Samuel broke the stillness with the observation that had clearly been bothering him. "She just... walked away? Like a normal person?"
"What's wrong with that?" Frost asked, raising a brow in genuine confusion.
"Well," Samuel muttered, his voice carrying disappointment that would have been comic in any other circumstances, "she's a ninja, isn't she? From the legendary Mushoku Village? Shouldn't she have used a smoke bomb or something? Maybe vanished in a swirl of cherry blossoms? Isn't that what elite assassins do?"
Frost scratched his chin thoughtfully, considering the point with more seriousness than it probably deserved. "When you put it that way... it does seem like she missed an opportunity for dramatic effect."
"Enough," Ari interjected, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Men and their obsession with theatrical combat techniques. "Let's focus on getting to the Citadel. We've been delayed long enough, and unlike Kali, we actually have an appointment to keep."
Frost smirked, falling in step beside her with renewed purpose. "Finally ready to face Kreaton, then?"
Ari gave a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes, her mind already shifting to what awaited. "Ready or not doesn't matter, does it? Some things happen regardless of our readiness."
Ari and Frost led the way, their pace steady and determined - a march toward destiny or doom, depending on one's perspective. Samuel trailed slightly behind, his steps more sluggish than before, either from the stress of recent events or simple fatigue.
Retracing their path from the shrine to the main street was straightforward enough - the route had become familiar through repetition. But once there, they were once again caught in the vibrant chaos of Valkrath's bustling crowds. The marketplace seemed even more alive now, if such a thing were possible.
Merchants shouted their wares with renewed vigor, perhaps sensing the afternoon waning and customers slipping away. Street performers had multiplied - a juggler tossing flaming torches, a musician coaxing haunting melodies from a strange stringed instrument, a storyteller gathering children with tales of ancient heroes. The colorful stalls practically begged for attention, their goods arrayed like treasures from distant lands.
Yet this time, Ari resisted the distractions. She'd had her moment of delay, her brief reprieve from responsibility. Now duty called with a voice that couldn't be ignored. Her resolve firmed as she marched toward the Citadel, her eyes fixed on that black cube that loomed larger with each step.
The Citadel sat atop a steep hill - not a gentle slope but a genuine climb that tested the legs and lungs of travelers. The path wound upward in switchbacks, occasionally leveling but always returning to punishing incline. The cobblestones here were older, more uneven, worn smooth by countless feet over uncounted years.
Frost reached the summit first, his superior conditioning showing. Sweat gleamed on his forehead like diamonds, and his chest rose and fell with deep breaths that he couldn't quite hide, but he maintained a calm expression as he turned to check on his charges. His hands planted firmly on his hips in a posture that suggested he could have kept going if necessary - a lie his breathing betrayed.
Behind him, Samuel was in far worse shape. He bent over with his hands on his knees, panting heavily like a dog left in the sun. His armor - which had seemed so impressive on level ground - now seemed like a cruel burden, each plate weighing him down as much as his exhaustion. Sweat poured down his face, and his breathing came in ragged gasps that suggested genuine distress.
Ari, standing beside Samuel, was slumped over him, draping her arms and head across his back in shared exhaustion. She was too drained even to care about the impropriety of using her guard as a support structure. Her legs trembled, her breath came in short gasps, and despite wearing far less weight than either man, the climb had pushed her to her limits.
Frost glanced at Samuel and couldn't resist the opportunity for mockery - some habits died hard. "But you, Sam... you should do better... for a soldier," he managed to say between his own breaths, though his smirk undermined any actual concern. "When we get back... we're going to train. Extra drills. Hill running at dawn."
Samuel groaned, still bent over, catching his breath with the desperation of a drowning man finding air. "Ari had it easier - she doesn't wear armor," he muttered defensively, gesturing weakly at her lighter clothing.
Frost's grin turned sharp, finding new ammunition. "You had it easier, you moron! She's a noble; you're a guard. What's your excuse for being half-dead? This is literally your job!"
"I think we all did just fine," Ari interjected weakly, her voice muffled against Samuel's armored back. Then, overwhelmed by exhaustion and the sudden humor of their situation - three people who'd survived a potential kidnapping now defeated by a simple hill - she collapsed onto her back on the cool grass beside the path.
With a shared groan of defeat that acknowledged temporary surrender to gravity and fatigue, Samuel joined her. They lay there like fallen soldiers after a battle, staring up at the sky where clouds drifted in lazy patterns, taking a brief but much-needed respite under the open sky.
The grass was cool and slightly damp from the earlier drizzle, smelling of earth and growing things. Above them, the sky was that particular shade of blue that only appeared in early evening, deeper than midday but not yet touched by sunset's colors. Birds called to each other - different species than in Kar-Ah, their songs unfamiliar but somehow comforting in their ordinariness.
For just a moment, lying there in the grass with her guard beside her and one standing next to her, Ari felt almost normal. Not a bride being delivered to an uncertain fate. Not a political pawn in games played by powers beyond her control. Just a tired girl who'd climbed a very large hill.
Some time passed - minutes, though it felt like both seconds and hours simultaneously, time behaving strangely in exhaustion. Ari sat up first, brushing stray grass from her hair and noticing how the blades had left faint green stains on her dress. Her mother would have scolded her for the undignified display. Somehow, that made it feel more precious.
She gestured toward the Citadel, still a fair distance away despite their climb. The black cube sat there like judgment made manifest. "Besides, did you notice those figures in front of it?"
Frost turned his attention to the Citadel's entrance. He squinted against the sunlight that seemed particularly bright. Two figures were visible even from where they stood, silhouetted against the grand gates - waiting with the patience of those who had nowhere else to be.
"One looks like... a maid?" Frost guessed, his brow furrowing as he tried to make out details at this distance. "I can't tell you about the other one. Too far, and the angle's wrong."
"I noticed them earlier," Ari said, standing and brushing herself off with renewed attention to her appearance. Grass clung stubbornly to her dress, and she picked at it with fingers that trembled slightly - whether from exertion or anticipation, she couldn't say. "That second figure walked out as we arrived at the base of the hill. She's been waiting there since. Watching us climb. Watching us stop. Watching us collapse like children after their first real hike."
"Maybe they're a welcoming party," Samuel offered, still lying flat on the grass, one arm flung over his eyes to block the sun. He stretched his leg with a groan that suggested multiple joints protesting. "Maybe this is normal. Maybe all visitors get greeters."
Ari and Frost exchanged looks, their eyes widening in shared disbelief and dawning horror as the implication hit them simultaneously.
Frost let out an exaggerated sigh that somehow conveyed both amusement and mortification. He reached down and hauled Samuel to his feet by the arm with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd done this many times before. "You idiot."
"We've been lying here in the grass like lazy children while they've been waiting for us this whole time," Ari muttered, genuine distress coloring her voice. She placed her hands over her cheeks as if she could physically contain her embarrassment, her expression mortified. "Such a disgrace. What a shameful first impression. They probably think we're completely undisciplined. Or ill. Or both."
Frost shook his head with a sigh but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips despite his best efforts. "Let's just hope they're more patient than we deserve. And that they have a sense of humor about foreign nobility face-planting in their grass."
They hurried toward the Citadel with renewed urgency - though "hurried" was relative given their exhausted state. It was more of a determined shuffle, dignity warring with fatigue and losing badly.
As they approached, their suspicions were confirmed. Standing before the grand front doors - massive things of dark wood bound with iron, carved with wolves and moons and other symbols Ari couldn't quite make out from here - were indeed two women.
One, as Frost had guessed, appeared to be a maid. She was dressed neatly in a simple uniform of black and white, her posture perfect despite what must have been a long wait. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her expression was professionally neutral - though Ari thought she detected a hint of amusement in the woman's eyes.
The other was a young Likaon girl who looked to be roughly Ari's age, perhaps a year or two younger. She was adorned in an elegant dress of deep blue silk, richly embroidered with silver thread that caught the light in complex patterns. The dress was cut in the Likaon style - shorter than Theocracy fashion, ending at her calves, with slits up the sides that would allow freedom of movement. Her wolf-like ears perked up with evident excitement as they approached, and her tail - bushy and well-groomed - wagged with barely contained enthusiasm that betrayed youth despite her formal attire.
As Ari, Frost, and Samuel came within speaking distance, the girl's face broke into a genuine smile that transformed her formal beauty into something more approachable. She clapped her hands together in a gesture of pure delight and descended the steps with fluid grace to meet them halfway.
"You're as beautiful as they said!" she exclaimed, her admiration genuine and unrestrained, carrying none of the calculated flattery Ari had learned to expect from court interactions. This was honest enthusiasm from someone who seemed incapable of artifice.
Ari bowed politely, drawing on training that made the gesture automatic despite her exhaustion. Frost and Samuel followed suit a second later, their own bows perhaps less refined but equally respectful. The Likaon girl and the maid mirrored their gesture with equal formality, though the girl's bow had an excited bounce to it that suggested she was restraining herself from more exuberant greeting.
"I'm Arianna Rosviel," Ari introduced herself, her voice measured and composed despite grass stains and lingering breathlessness - the voice her mother had taught her, the one that worked regardless of circumstance. She gestured toward her companions with practiced grace. "These are my guards: Samuel" - a pause as she indicated the taller one - "and Frost."
The girl's face lit up even more, if such a thing were possible, her tail wagging with increased vigor. "It's an honor to meet you and your noble guards," she said, and her sincerity was almost disarming. She turned slightly and motioned toward the maid, who stood two steps above them on the entrance stairs. "This is Mariselle, the head maid of the Citadel."
Mariselle inclined her head in acknowledgment, her expression remaining professionally neutral, though Ari noticed her eyes taking in every detail - cataloging, assessing, filing away information with the efficiency of someone whose position demanded such awareness.
The Likaon girl turned back to them, and with an elegant sweep of her hand that suggested formal training in diplomacy or court etiquette, she introduced herself. "And I am Iselda, Kreaton's younger sister." She paused, letting that relationship register, then continued with a smile that held both warmth and something more complex - apology, perhaps, or sympathy. "You, Ari, will meet with me to discuss the marriage arrangements."
The words hit Ari like cold water, bringing her crashing back to reality from the strange suspended state she'd been floating in since the climb. She returned the smile, though she felt it falter at the edges, and confusion crossed her face before she could restrain it. "Kreaton won't meet with me?"
It was the question she'd been avoiding asking directly, fearing the answer but needing to know. Was he so dismissive of this arrangement that he wouldn't even greet his future wife? Was she so insignificant that a warlord couldn't spare an afternoon?
Iselda's expression shifted - genuine regret replacing enthusiasm. She waved her hand gracefully, gesturing for them to enter as Mariselle moved to open the Citadel's grand doors. The massive portals swung inward with surprising silence, well-oiled hinges betraying regular maintenance. "Let's discuss it inside; it's far too windy out here." She shivered slightly, her thin arms displaying faint goosebumps from the chill. The dress, while beautiful, was clearly designed more for appearance than warmth.
Ari nodded, though the pit in her stomach grew heavier. She walked shoulder to shoulder with Iselda through those imposing doors, while Mariselle led the way with practiced efficiency. Frost and Samuel followed closely behind, their earlier exhaustion forgotten in professional vigilance as their eyes scanned the surroundings with renewed intensity.
(Author's note: This chapter turned out longer than expected - about thirty pages - so I split it into two without a clear break. Sorry about that!)