Quick question, harem or single romance, and what is your reasoning for not wanting the other?
The grove narrowed into a stone-lined corridor, roots clutching the walls like fingers. Just ahead, the entrance to the Inner Sanctum loomed, an arched passage framed by druidic carvings and thick hanging vines. A cluster of tiefling refugees blocked the path, gathered tight, murmuring with nervous energy.
Fin, Shadowheart, and Wyll came to a stop just behind them.
A woman stood at the front of the crowd, her posture bristling, fists clenched so tight her knuckles were pale beneath crimson skin.
"Let my daughter go—right now!" Komira shouted, her voice cracking like a whip through the grove.
Three druids stood firm at the threshold.
The one in the middle, older and gaunt with robes heavy from the morning mist, took a single step forward, voice like splintered bark.
"She's a thief, hellspawn. And you will wait for Kagha's judgment. Now get back."
Komira's eyes burned with fury. "Argh—let me through, mragreshem, or I'll rip your damned throat out!"
Then, the druid on the left roared as he began to shift
With a snarl that echoed through the stone, the druid transformed, rising into the air, fur rippling through skin as claws erupted from his fingers. A massive brown bear now stood in his place, lips pulled back in a snarl, drool dripping.
The tieflings recoiled with gasps, several stumbling back in fear. Komira didn't flinch—but Locke grabbed her arm, holding her back.
"Komira, please," he whispered, voice thick. "Not here. Not now."
The bear growled low.
Wyll's hand instinctively dropped to his weapon. Fin's eyes narrowed, not aiming to fight anyone or anything.
Not yet, anyway.
Fin kept his eyes forward, gait steady.
He wasn't in the mood for theatrics. Not this early. Not when we wanted to see Nettie and leave ASAP.
But Wyll had already started to slow.
Fin didn't look at him.
"Keep moving," he muttered under his breath.
Wyll ignored him.
Instead, the Blade of Frontiers veered toward the tiefling couple now standing off to the side—Komira pacing like a caged wolf, Locke quiet and steady.
"I heard what happened. They're keeping your daughter somewhere inside?"
Komira froze mid-step. Her eyes snapped to Wyll, reading him—his stance, his voice, the concern in his brow. She didn't let her guard down.
Locke, on the other hand, offered a slow nod.
"Yeah. Her name's Arabella. She… she tried to take something she shouldn't have."
"The idol. That stupid, damn idol." She ran a hand through her hair, frustration bristling. "The druids lost their minds. Screaming about sacred rites and omens."
Locke gave a small, helpless shrug.
"They said it was needed for a ritual. Something about protection. But now she's locked up, and they won't let us see her."
Komira's voice dropped into a bitter rasp.
"It's my fault. I said I wished that wretched thing would disappear. Just once. I didn't mean—gods, I didn't mean for her to do anything."
Locke: "Now she's being judged by a circle of druids who hate us just for being here." His jaw tensed. "It's not right."
Wyll's eyes narrowed. His voice stayed even. "And where are they holding her?"
Locke hesitated—then gestured vaguely toward the inner sanctum.
"In the back, inside the chamber past their sacred pool, but I must trust Kagha to make the right decision."
Komira spat on the grass. "I'd rather trek through the Nine Hells than trust that snake."
Wyll looked between them, brows drawn.
Fin finally turned, expression tight.
"Wyll, no, we have to focus"
Wyll didn't answer.
"We're not here for this."
Wyll finally looked at him.
"We're here to stop the parasite from eating our minds, it most definitely hasn't changed my morals."
"Wasting time while a child waits for a death sentence isn't."
Shadowheart leaned closer to Fin, her voice low and dry.
"Sounds like she made the fatal mistake of getting caught. We shouldn't get involved."
Fin didn't respond.
Wyll's eyes lingered on the two of them. Disappointment was clear in his face, though he tried to keep it tempered.
"So that's it?" Wyll said. "We just walk past while they pray their daughter doesn't get executed over a mistake?"
Fin kept his eyes forward, silent for a moment too long. The stone arch of the sanctum loomed ahead, carved with druidic symbols and framed by swaying moss.
In truth, he was thinking about the girl. About Arabella.
What's the upside? he thought, expression still as stone. One kid. One risk. One possible fight with a grove of magic-wielding zealots. What do I gain?
Ali's voice sparked gently into his ear, faint and familiar.
"You're wondering if it's worth it."
He rolled his eyes.
"Stay out of my head."
Her tone was amused but not mocking."I'm not in your head. You're just predictable."
Fin kept walking. The footsteps behind him grew softer. He knew Wyll had stopped near the parents again. That bleeding heart was always looking for a wound to press on.
"You're not a hero," Ali added. "You don't leap into fire for strangers."
"Exactly."
"But you're not a monster either."
Fin didn't answer. His eyes flicked toward the couple one more time.
Komira stood tense as ever, breathing hard, eyes red. Locke held her hand now, quiet strength trying to mask quiet fear.
Fin frowned, jaw tightening.
He thought of Helga. Her arms folded and jaw set, daring the world to touch him when he was small and helpless.
Fin turned. "I won't go looking for her," he said.
Komira's head snapped toward him. "What?"
Locke's face fell slightly.
Fin continued, voice level. "But I'm heading to Nettie anyway. If Arabella's inside, I'll...make sure she comes back safe. I'll bring her to you. That's the best I can offer."
Komira stared, mouth slightly open. Locke blinked slowly, then gave a small nod, quiet, grateful.
"...Thank you," he said.
Wyll smiled, relief plain on his face. "You've got a good heart, Fin. Even if you try to act like you don't."
Shadowheart's expression twitched—subtle surprise crossing her features. She studied Fin a moment longer before looking away.
Fin turned back toward the sanctum entrance, tightening his grip on his belt.
"Let's get moving."
Ali's voice followed, softer now.
"Not a hero. But not a monster."
He didn't reply and continued forward to confront the three druid guards.
The bear was still there—massive, hulking, and crouched low like it had never stopped growling. Its deep-set eyes locked onto Fin the moment he stepped forward, and without warning—
RAWRRRR!
It reared slightly, unleashing a thunderous roar that shook the stones beneath their feet.
Fin didn't flinch.
He simply raised a hand, two fingers tilted lazily toward his palm.
"Igni," he whispered.
A small puff of flame burst from his fingertips—nothing strong, barely more than a spark—but he directed it straight into the bear's eyes.
The flame burst into smoke on contact.
The bear jerked back with a startled snort, shaking its head and blinking rapidly.
Fin chuckled. "Oh, relax, you can bear it"
"You!" barked the middle druid—the same one from before, face twisted in scorn. "Get back! You've no right to be here!"
But the air did, he took one slow step forward, and suddenly it was like the world shifted.
The temperature didn't drop, but it felt colder. The shadows deepened. The pressure in the air thickened like tar in the lungs.
Fin had cursed energy that leaked off him like smoke from a dying pyre, Shadowheart's eyes narrowed, wary. Wyll took half a step back, more from instinct than fear.
But the druids… the druids felt it.
Their faces twisted in sudden discomfort.
One gripped his chest.
The bear backed away.
The middle druid swallowed thickly, eyes darting. "Wh-what are you?"
Fin didn't answer. His eyes remained sharp and focused.
Death. Regret. Pain.
That was the taste of it. For anyone who'd never known cursed energy, it felt like grief given form. Like guilt, clawing up the spine.
But before things could spiral further, the druid on the right leaned in and whispered something into the middle druid's ear.
Jeorna.
She flinched at the words. Her throat worked in a dry swallow.
Then she straightened, forcing composure into her voice.
"Kagha… wants to see you. All of you."
Her hands were shaking.
Fin's cursed energy faded at once, shut down like a valve.
He rolled his eyes. "You're lucky."
And with a low grunt, he shoved past Jeorna without so much as a glance.
The others followed.
Wyll gave the druids a short nod as he passed.
Shadowheart didn't even look at them.
And then, together, the trio stepped through the threshold, leaving the stunned druids behind and entering the Inner Sanctum of the Grove.
...
Fin stepped in, eyes trailing along the contours of the chamber.
"Another chamber?" he muttered. "How many sacred rooms does one grove need?"
Shadowheart gave him a look but said nothing. Wyll hid a faint smile.
They began to descend a flight of worn stone stairs that curled deeper into the sanctum, boots echoing faintly with each step.
Then the voices hit them.
Sharp. Raised.
A child's sobbing.
An older man's firm, anxious plea.
And over all of it, one voice, a mature woman
"Enough," came Kagha's voice, tight with wrath. "You will answer for your sins."
"I-I didn't mean to—please!" cried a girl.
"You've lost your senses, Kagha!" another voice snapped—male, older, desperate. "She's a child!"
Fin's expression darkened as he picked up his pace.
They emerged into the heart of the chamber.
A raised platform sat at the centre, ringed by shallow steps and flanked by thick vines and old oak pillars. There, in the centre of the sanctum, stood two figures.
Kagha.
And Rath.
Before them—cowering, barefoot, and trembling—was a young tiefling girl. Her small horns were barely grown, against her tangled hair. Her arms were drawn close to her chest, eyes wide with fear.
And directly in front of her, poised upon a platform of stone, was a viper—its long body coiled, its fangs bared.
It hadn't struck.
Not yet.
But Fin recognised the posture.
If the girl moved—if she even twitched the wrong way—
It would go for the kill.
"Let her go, Kagha!" Rath shouted, stepping toward the girl.
Kagha held out a hand without looking at him.
"She is a thief," she declared. "A devil. She trespassed into our sacred chamber and laid hands on the idol of Silvanus."
"She's ten," Rath growled. "And she's terrified."
"And she should be!" Kagha snapped. "This is what happens when we allow strangers into our hearts. They bring corruption. Chaos."
Her eyes snapped toward Fin and his companions, gaze hardening.
"I will imprison this devil," she said, voice rising. "And every outsider who dares breach our laws will follow. No more exceptions. No more infections among our roots."
She took a deliberate step toward Arabella.
"And that includes you," she hissed, looking directly at Fin. "You and the others like you."
Fin didn't blink; he stood still, arms loosely crossed, his face unreadable. No flicker of panic, no edge of urgency, just that same even tone that always made it difficult to tell if he was tired or bored.
"Don't you think you might be overreacting?" he asked. "She's just a child."
Kagha turned her gaze to him, eyes narrowing.
"A parasite," she spat. "That's what she is. She eats our food. Drinks our water. And in return? She steals our most holy idol!"
Her voice rang out like a whipcrack across the sanctum.
Fin tilted his head slightly, but his expression remained calm.
Kagha snapped her fingers toward Rath. "Lock her up. She'll remain imprisoned until the rite is complete."
Rath's jaw clenched. He didn't move at first.
Kagha shot him a glare.
"Rath."
He finally gave a reluctant nod, his face drawn with quiet sorrow.
"As you command," he muttered.
Kagha crouched slightly to Arabella's level, her voice like a hiss through dry leaves.
"And keep still, devil. Teela is restless."
The viper flicked its tongue, fangs still bared, its body tense and coiled on the edge of a ritual table.
Fin exhaled through his nose.
"Release the girl," he said. "I'll make sure she stays out of trouble."
Kagha raised her eyebrow, turning her sharp eyes on him. She looked him up and down at the haori and his calm demeanour.
Then she blinked once.
And said, "...No."
She turned to Rath again. "Take her away."
Rath closed his eyes for a moment, pain flickering across his features. Still, he stepped forward and reached for Arabella's arm.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Come, little one."
Arabella whimpered, pulling away. "No! Let go—!"
She tore her arm free and made a break for it, scrambling toward the edge of the chamber.
Teela hissed violently, rearing back, it launched off the table with terrifying speed, its long body lashing through the air, fangs gleaming.
It surged toward Arabella's exposed knee, Arabella fell over, the viper fangs inching closer and closer—
Until—
SCHLCH.
Teela's head slid cleanly from her coiled body, the severed head striking the stone with a dull thud.
A fine trail of blood arced in the air before the corpse slumped motionless beside Arabella.
The viper hadn't seen the slice.
No one had.
Fin sighed, almost disappointed, "I really wish she'd listened."
Kagha stared at the corpse in stunned silence, her mouth parted slightly. Her fingers trembled, hovering just above her belt.
"You… you killed her," she said.
Fin ignored her for the moment and crouched beside Arabella, offering a hand.
The girl flinched, then slowly took it.
"Easy now," he said. "You're alright."
She nodded shakily, eyes wide with tears, her tiny frame trembling.
Fin helped her to her feet and turned to Wyll.
"Think you can take her back to her parents?"
Wyll gave a firm nod and stepped forward.
"Of course."
Arabella looked up at Fin again. Her lip quivered.
"Thank you…" she whispered.
Fin gave her the faintest smile. "Don't steal sacred idols next time."
The girl gave a tiny, wet laugh and clung to Wyll.
Shadowheart crossed her arms, watching the entire thing unfold.
"Well," she said with a chuckle, "that was certainly a solution."
Kagha hadn't moved.
Her eyes were locked on Teela's corpse, disbelief giving way to anger.
Her hand finally closed around the hilt of her blades.
"You killed her," she repeated, lower now. "How did you even—"
She stared at Fin, eyes darting between his hands.
"You didn't move. How did you slice my viper's head off without lifting a blade?"
Fin turned, expression level.
He took a few steps toward her, slow and calm.
"I told you to listen," he said. "You didn't, and this is what happens."
Kagha's grip tightened.
"Who are you?"
"Not your enemy," Fin replied. "Not yet. But if you keep pulling steel and ignoring reason, I can't promise that'll stay true."
He stepped close enough that the air shifted again, just enough to remind her of that creeping presence from before.
"So from now on, I suggest you listen to every word I say. Carefully."
Kagha didn't draw her blade.
She couldn't.
Not because she lacked conviction, but because she lacked certainty. Fin was unknown. Untested. And utterly unreadable.
That frightened her more than any sword.
She slowly released her grip from the hilt and let her hand fall to her side.
"I thought you'd call me a monster," she said, voice lower. "But maybe you're more of one than I ever was."
Fin tilted his head.
"Could be."
He turned his back on her without fear.
"But this? This was kindness."
He paused at the edge of the platform and glanced over his shoulder.
"I wouldn't extend it again."
Kagha stared at him, chest rising with each breath.
Fin kept walking.
"All I came for," he said, "was to meet Nettie."
That gave Kagha pause.
"You… weren't sent by Zevlor?"
Fin stopped.
Blink.
Then he groaned.
"Right… I did say something about helping the refugees."
Shadowheart raised a brow. "You forgot?"
"It was a busy day."
Wyll, carrying Arabella in his arms, laughed softly behind him.
Fin didn't bother defending himself. He was already headed toward the back corridors, where the scent of herbs and smoke marked the healer's quarters.
"Come on," he muttered. "Let's go find this damn Nettie before something else needs saving."
But Kagha couldn't help herself.
She moved fast.
Too fast for thought—blade sliding from her hip in one swift motion, her body twisting as she lunged for his back.
It might've worked on someone else.
But not him.
Fin spun, his hand shot up like a whip.
CRACK—
His fingers locked around her throat before the blade even cleared the space between them. The force of the grab alone sent her stumbling backward, heels scraping moss and stone.
Then—
BOOM.
He slammed her to the ground.
The sanctum shook.
Stone cracked beneath her as air punched from her lungs, her legs flailing for a moment under the force.
Fin's fingers dug into her windpipe.
"You seriously tried that?"
His voice was low. Flat. Like disappointment made flesh.
"I appreciate you didn't back down," he said, tightening his grip.
Then he lifted her.
And slammed her down again.
CRACK.
Dust kicked up. Vines trembled. The fissure spread outward from her spine.
Another lift.
Another slam.
CRACK.
He didn't yell.
Didn't roar.
But with every motion, his expression changed. His eyes twitched at the corners. His jaw clenched. His mouth parted just slightly, as if caught between breath and something else entirely.
Again.
And again.
Each slam louder.
Each crack deeper.
Stone began to split.
Until—
"Fin!" Shadowheart shouted. "That's enough!"
He froze. Eyes shut.
His chest rose once, steady.
"I hope," he said slowly, "that she's learned something from this."
Then he opened his eyes.
And stopped dead.
He expected her to be unconscious or broken, maybe tearful, maybe angry.
But Kagha?
Kagha was looking up at him with dilated pupils, a blush across her face, and lips slightly parted.
Not in pain. Not in fear.
In… something else entirely.
"...Huh," Fin said flatly.
Kagha exhaled with a shudder.
"Do it again."
Fin blinked.
Shadowheart blinked.
He stared down at her, blinking once, twice—utterly thrown.
His hand still hovered midair, unsure if he should prepare another slam or conjure a barrier.
Kagha lay sprawled on the cracked stone, body battered, lip split, breath wheezing…
She smiled.
She crawled.
Her hands dragged her bruised frame forward until she reached his boots, then she bowed low—forehead to the floor, her hair splayed like a shattered halo.
Fin took half a step back, blinking harder.
"What…?"
He looked up, slowly scanning the room for a reason. A script. Anything.
Rath, nearby, had gone still. His mouth hung slightly open in what could only be described as soul-crushing disbelief.
Shadowheart took one look at Kagha, then made a sound halfway between a gag and a curse.
"Oh, for the love of, what is this?"
Kagha didn't speak.
She just kept her head low, as if waiting for another slam. Like it was a reward.
Fin blinked again.
"...She's a masochist?" he said, voice completely deadpan.
Rath looked like he was silently begging someone—anyone—to drag him out of the scene.
Shadowheart took a sharp step forward, disgust painting her features.
"Get up, you lunatic," she snapped at Kagha. "You're a druid! A leader! Have some self-respect, or—" she faltered, catching herself, something twisting faintly in her chest.
She grimaced.
That feeling? That tight, weird, irrational tug?
She didn't like it.
Not that she had any time to reflect on that.
Fin had already turned around.
He shook his head once, running a hand down his face.
"Women," he muttered under his breath.
And with that, he walked off toward the healing chambers, utterly done with whatever that was.
Shadowheart stared after him, cheeks slightly flushed.
Kagha remained kneeling behind them, his legs buckling.
And Rath… quietly whispered something to himself that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
...
[End of Chapter]