Hibana glanced at Kinko out of the corner of his eye.
He had a hard time reading her face.
Part of it was his draconic brain—human expressions still gave him trouble. But nonhuman ones? Almost impossible.
The other part was her.
She was the first bird demihuman he'd ever seen. And even now, he didn't quite know how to look at her.
He remembered seeing her kind behind glass once, back when he was a man in Tokyo.
Red-crowned cranes. Graceful. Still. Almost unreal.
People whispered they were sacred.
He hadn't understood it then.
He was starting to now.
"I did what I could," Hibana said—just to break the silence.
Kinko looked at him, her head tilting with avian precision.
"He did his duty," she said. "His death was honorable."
Her words didn't fall like rice from a torn sack.
They arrived like packages—carefully wrapped, properly labeled, sealed with string.
Measured. Controlled.
"Why are we bringing this bird with us?" Riven said. "She comes from the demihuman kingdom."
Kinko raised her head.
"It's called Kamen'tari. The Shogunate of Nozari.
If you're going to refer to my kingdom, please address it properly."
Riven rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Bird."
Hibana glanced back at him.
"Her name is Kinko," he said—calm but firm.
"And right now, she's under our protection. I ask that you show her respect."
Riven grumbled, but said nothing more.
The trio arrived at the edge of the Fae Wilds.
At first glance, it looked like any ordinary forest—tall trees swaying gently in the breeze, moss crawling up their trunks, and a soft wind rustling the canopy.
But it was too green.
Not vibrant in the usual sense, but impossibly so—like the color had been turned up past what nature allowed.
Every leaf shimmered with life.
Every blade of grass looked freshly born.
Tiny motes of blue light floated lazily through the air, like fireflies made of magic.
They didn't flicker.
They glowed, moving with an intelligence just shy of awareness.
Hibana turned to Kinko.
"You know this place, don't you?"
She nodded, voice quiet. Almost reverent.
"I've read about it. The Fae Wilds… a place no one enters. It's surrounded by a barrier—ancient, living magic. Kingdoms used to fight just for the chance to breach it. They wanted the resources hidden within. But no army ever got through. And no circle of magi, no matter how skilled, ever pierced it."
Hibana smirked.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
He stepped forward, the grass parting slightly beneath his feet.
"Let's keep walking. You'll be able to pass the barrier."
Kinko nodded and began walking.
Hibana watched as she passed through the barrier. It shimmered slightly at her touch—almost like the surface of a still pond reacting to a single drop.
Satisfied, he stepped through as well.
Riven followed behind, muttering something under his breath.
They made their way to the settlement.
A tall wooden wall now encircled it, flanked by two watchtowers built from freshly hewn timber. At the top, Lizardfolk guards kept watch, their reptilian eyes scanning the treeline with practiced ease.
Kinko slowed, staring upward. Hibana followed her gaze.
The gate stood open. Above it, the word "Hearthflame" had been painted across a wooden plank—crooked, uneven, and a little too bright. Whoever did it wasn't an artist. But they'd meant it.
Kinko hesitated.
"Those are... Lizardfolk," she said. "What are they doing here?!"
Hibana gestured for her to follow.
"I'll answer all your questions. There are also Kobolds here. Please—be patient with me."
Sure enough, as they passed through the gate, the sounds of work filled the air.
Kobolds darted across the settlement, pulling carts, stacking crates, and tending crops in a field near the back.
Several stopped when they saw Kinko.
"Kingdom demihuman!" one shouted—his scales a brilliant red. He pointed toward her with a clawed finger.
In moments, the others dropped what they were doing and gathered around the trio.
Kobold children squeaked with excitement and ran straight for Riven.
"Uncle Riven!" they squealed, clinging to his legs like oversized rats with scales.
"Oh, come on! Get off, you little ankle-biters!" Riven barked, trying to shake them loose. His complaints were half-hearted at best.
Hibana couldn't help but smile.
He turned to Kinko.
"Welcome to Hearthflame. My home."
Then he gestured toward the large longhouse near the center of the settlement.
"Please. Come with me."
Hibana guided Kinko into the longhouse.
The interior was warm and dim, lit by the soft flicker of the central fire pit. A large round table encircled the flames, ringed with evenly-sized wooden chairs. But just behind the table, near the wall, sat something far more unusual: a wide, cushioned surface laid directly on the floor—stitched from thick hides and built to bear weight no ordinary furniture could handle.
His spot.
Along the ceiling beams, trophies lined the edge—stuffed heads of strange beasts, their glassy eyes staring down in silent vigil. Hibana didn't care for them, but the Lizardfolk took pride in their kills. He let them have it. A home wasn't just for him.
Near the cushion stood a familiar figure—tall, thick-scaled, and unmistakably cheerful.
Zerrusha.
"It pleasssesss me you've returned, Hibana!" the big lizard called, tail giving an eager twitch.
Then he noticed Kinko.
His slitted eyes narrowed.
"Who'sss thisss?"
Hibana glanced at Kinko, then back at Zerrusha.
"A guest. In my house," he said, voice calm but carrying weight. "Please treat her with the same respect you've shown me."
Zerrusha blinked, then gave a slow, respectful bow.
"Of courssse!"
Riven stepped up beside Hibana.
"I'll let the other two know you're back."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode out of the longhouse.
Kinko tilted her head slightly. "Other two?"
Hibana nodded. "Yeah. A couple of other friends of mine. Great people."
He gestured toward the table, then walked over and pulled out one of the chairs for her.
"Please. Sit. Any of these will do."
He watched her carefully as she considered. Her eyes flicked to the fire, then to the mounted trophies along the ceiling beams, and finally back to him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking—but she hadn't bolted, which was something.
"I'm assuming you're hungry? Thirsty?" he asked.
There was a note of softness in his voice—not diplomacy, not obligation.
"I'd be delighted to bring you something to eat. Personally."
Kinko looked at him, puzzled.
"Are you not the master of this settlement? Don't you have servants to do this work for you?"
Hibana followed her gaze—first to Zerrusha, then to the open doorway beyond.
"What, them?" he said. "No."
He shook his head, voice gentle.
"They're here because they want to be. They help me because they choose to."
His eyes returned to hers.
"I'm not their master. I'm their friend."
A moment passed. The fire cracked softly.
"And after today," he added, "I'm hoping that you could be too."
Kinko gave Hibana a look he couldn't decipher.
"I am nobody's friend. And I am everybody's friend. Such is the nature of my profession."
He nodded. "That remains to be seen."
Hibana moved to the chair nearest the cushion and sat down. The moment felt heavier than he let on. He drew his short sword from his belt and tossed it casually onto the cushion beside him.
"Now then," he said. "What brings you out here?"
But before Kinko could answer, the longhouse door opened.
A man in black robes entered, his wide cylindrical hat brushing the frame.
Riven followed behind him, arms folded.
The two took seats near the entrance without a word.
Hibana smiled. "Solryn. Meet Kinko of Kamen'tari."
Solryn glanced at her, and his face soured instantly.
"A diplomat," he muttered. "And from the looks of her, a pampered one."
Hibana shook his head. "Now, please, Solryn. She is our guest."
Solryn rolled his eyes. "Yes, your majesty."
Before the tension could settle, the door opened again.
And this time, the silence shifted.
Tsu entered—tall, composed, and already scowling.
Kinko's entire posture changed. Even with her avian features, the emotion was unmistakable.
If a crane could scowl, this was it.
Hibana opened his mouth. "Kinko, this is—"
"I know who she is!" Kinko snapped.
Her voice had venom now. "Tsu! Ronin! Murderer! Abomination!"
Tsu folded her arms, expression flattening into its usual neutrality.
"I'm amazed one of the Shogunate's precious wind-up toys would muddy her feet coming so far south."
She turned to Hibana.
"Why did you invite her here?"
Hibana placed his hands on the table and met her eyes. No tension. Just quiet resolve.
"Because she needed my help."
Tsu nodded once, as if checking off a mental list.
"Well," she said, already turning, "I've seen all I need to."
She walked out, back into the sun and silence.
Riven watched Tsu leave.
"Well," he said. "That went better than I expected."
Solryn was still looking at the door.
"Wind-up toy… I'm gonna have to remember that one."
Hibana turned his attention to Kinko.
She hadn't looked away. Her eyes were still fixed on him.
"She… lives here? With you?"
Hibana nodded. "Yes. All are welcome here—so long as they obey the law of my settlement."
Kinko looked like she was about to stand—her feathers twitching, wings tense with restrained fury.
But Hibana held up a hand and gestured gently toward the chair.
"Relax," he said, voice even.
"Coming here was a mistake," Kinko snapped.
Hibana shook his head.
"No. I don't think it was."
He leaned forward, arms resting on the table.
"I've been operating in the Dale Lands for a few months now. Word was bound to reach the kingdoms eventually. I've heard there are three of them, and that you come from the one to the northeast."
He watched her carefully, but her expression gave little away.
"I've been trying to find a way to reach out. To make contact," he continued. "But because of my… unique condition, I haven't had much success."
He smiled, just slightly—tired, but not defeated.
"Mostly, I've just tried to stay out of their way. I don't want trouble with any of them."
Kinko narrowed her eyes, the feathers at her temples shifting slightly.
"You say you want no trouble," she said, voice measured, "and yet you've formed a fortified settlement, welcomed enemies of the crown, and built it on land that lies dangerously close to three sovereign borders."
She folded her hands in her lap, every movement calculated. Controlled.
"To the Shogunate, such actions are not the signs of neutrality. They are signs of ambition."
Her gaze locked on his.
"Tell me, Hibana—what exactly do you intend to become?"
Hibana looked at her intently.
Her face, as always, was a mystery to him—too many feathers, too little familiarity. He couldn't read her. But he could feel the pressure in her words.
She wanted him to declare ambition. Define himself. Justify his presence.
Instead, he answered softly.
"I'm not trying to become anything."
He let the silence linger.
"What you saw on your way into this room… that's everything I want. More of this. And nothing more."
Kinko looked over at Solryn and Riven, feathers shifting slightly in what might've been frustration—or doubt.
"What does he mean?"
Solryn was the first to speak.
"Lady, I don't think any of us have figured out exactly what goes on in that head of his."
Riven leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
"I think I know. Maybe. But honestly, I'm just as confused as you probably are."
He gave Hibana a sidelong glance.
"Hibana's not what you think he is. I'll just leave it at that."
Kinko turned back to him. Her eyes were still sharp, but quieter now.
Hibana met her gaze.
"I had nothing," he said.
His voice didn't rise. It didn't break. But it carried something deeper than either—a weight that pressed into the air between them.
"I was no one. Even my own parents abandoned me. Said I was weak. My siblings tried to kill me. I was cast out into the snow—alone, unwanted, left as food for whatever beast found me first."
He paused, eyes distant for a moment.
"But I survived. I was spared. Given shelter. A home. One I tried to make better—too much, apparently. It was taken from me too."
He looked around the longhouse. The firelight danced against the walls. Against the trophies he didn't care about. Against the chairs he made equal on purpose.
"Then I was led here. To this place. A sanctuary where I was given one rule: never take more than what is offered."
He smiled. Just slightly.
"And I've been offered much since I came. More than I deserved. I've been given a family."
He looked back to Kinko. His eyes were steady. Not pleading. Just honest.
"So yes. If there's one thing I want in this world—more than riches, more than titles, more than fame…"
He spread his hands across the table.
"It's this."
A moment of silence. Then his voice lowered—not in challenge, but in invitation.
"So tell me, Kinko. What is it you want to become?"
Kinko tilted her head, feathers twitching as she stumbled over her words.
"I… don't know what to say to that. This is highly irregular. You're not acting like a man of ambition. I... I don't know what you are."
Hibana smiled, calm as ever.
"Then let's change the subject. You explain something to me."
He leaned slightly forward, voice casual.
"What do you know about dragons?"
Kinko raised an eyebrow—a flash of emotion flickering across her face.
It was only the second time Hibana had seen anything break through that diplomatic mask.
"That's… a rather odd question," she said. "Why?"
Hibana shrugged. "Simply curious."
Kinko straightened in her seat, defaulting back to a formal tone.
"They're monsters. Some of the most powerful and terrible beasts in the world. Their pride is only matched by their thirst for violence and destruction."
"I see," Hibana said, nodding thoughtfully.
And then he smiled again—this time, more knowingly.
"Riven. Solryn. I'll prepare a feast for us shortly. But first…"
He turned to Kinko.
"I think our guest should learn who it is she'll be dining with tonight."
Riven grinned, already sitting up straighter.
"Ohhh, this is gonna be good."
Kinko looked at Riven and Solryn.
"…What?"
Hibana stood and made his way to the space behind the cushion—disappearing behind a low dividing wall.
Kinko heard movement.
Shuffling. Then something… stranger.
A wet, cracking sound. Bones reshaping. Sinew stretching. There was a low grinding, like armor sliding into place beneath skin.
Then Hibana stepped back out.
No longer a man.
His copper-orange scales shimmered in the firelight, every motion fluid and natural. He folded his wings behind him and sat calmly on the cushion, as if nothing had changed.
Kinko leaned back in her chair, breath caught. Her eyes were wide.
Hibana could see it clearly now—the fear. Not diplomatic tension. Not suspicion.
Fear.
He gave her a slow, toothy grin.
"Now…" he said, voice deeper, with a rumble beneath it,
"I'm sure you'll probably want some wine."