The morning was clear, a soft breeze rattling the shutters of the house.
Dante finished packing his things under the watchful eyes of his mother and his little sister, Jophiel.
— "You're leaving already?" asked his mom, her voice trembling. She tried to smile, but her eyes betrayed her worry.
— "I need to reach Almeria before the full moon."
— "You could… stay just one more day..." she whispered.
Dante shook his head gently.
— "You know I can't."
Jophiel threw herself into his arms.
— "You'll come back soon, right? You promise?"
He ruffled her hair with a crooked smile.
— "Promise. You've got to wait and show me how much you've grown."
She sniffled, her eyes glistening.
After one last hug and a kiss on his sister forehead, he picked up his bag and stepped outside.
The door creaked shut behind him.
Suddenly, a shadow peeled away from his own. A figure emerged, as if pulled straight out of the night: Ginny.
She stretched her arms like a caged feline finally released.
Her horns and tail were gone; in their place stood a perfectly human young woman.
— "Finally free…" she sighed, stretching. "Spending days crawling inside your shadow is exhausting."
Dante flinched.
— "You… you can take human form at will?"
She shook her head with an ironic smile.
— "It's not a transformation. This is… my true humanoid form. I used to be nothing but a shapeless shadow, but this artifact was the best thing I've ever tasted on this earth."
— "As for the absence of my demonic features… I've developed a technique to hide them. But it doesn't last forever."
The Veiled Lady's last words came rushing back to Dante, darkening his thoughts.
— "Who is she really? And what did she mean by 'contribution'… and 'entertainher'?"
They walked a few steps side by side. Ginny lowered her voice:
— "Tell me, Dante… are you ashamed of me?"
He turned his head slightly, surprised by the question.
— "It's not that. But… imagine someone sees your horns. How am I supposed to explain who you are? Where you come from? And… what we are, you and me?"
She gave a short, bitter laugh.
— "You're a terrible liar. You just don't want to admit it, that's all. Anyway… it didn't stop me from raiding your cupboards."
He raised a suspicious eyebrow.
— "Wait… that was you?"
— "Me?" She feigned innocence, her gaze fixed on the sky. "I have no idea what you're talking about…"
He sighed and rummaged in his luggage. Without warning, he tossed her a black jacket, which she barely managed to catch.
— "What's this?" she asked, staring at it.
— "Put it on." He pointed at a wooden building across the street.
A creaking sign clearly read: Slave Registry Office.
Ginny froze. Her eyes widened.
— "You're joking…"
Dante held her gaze.
— "No. If you want to stay with me… there's only one way.
Officially, you'll be my slave. I'll be your master.
That's the only way they'll leave us alone."
Ginny lowered her head. Her fingers clenched the jacket's fabric. She muttered, her voice trembling :
— "To be… officially submitted to a human… Disgusting."
Dante watched her silently. He could see her jaw tighten, her eyes glimmer with restrained rage.
Then she finally lifted her gaze, a wide smile breaking across her face, her amber eyes burning with challenge.
— "You really going to dare put a chain around my neck, Dante?"
— "You call me 'master' when it suits you, don't you? Guess you'll have to prove it."
...
After that clash, Dante traveled for several days with Ginny across the rolling hills of the kingdom.
The stone roads sometimes vanished into tall grass, forcing them to follow beaten dirt paths used by merchants and pilgrims.
The late summer sun warmed their backs, while the wind — carrying dust and the scent of wild lavender — whipped their faces as they headed south.
Their road wound through small whitewashed villages, where barefoot children laughed and waved from the dusty streets.
Sometimes they stopped by a fountain to refill their flasks, or beneath a towering oak where Ginny liked to close her eyes, as if to forget the chaos of the journey.
Dante, meanwhile, stayed quiet, observing everything, always alert: armored patrols on the roads, the wary faces of traders, the hushed tavern whispers about Zvrost and its unsettling shadows.
At last, after days of walking, they reached the port city of Awa.
The wide, muddy river stretched to the horizon where it dissolved into mist.
The docks were alive with activity: sailors shouting, hammers pounding against wooden hulls, chains clinking, sails snapping in the wind.
The air reeked of grilled fish and imported spices.
Ginny stopped, her amber eyes fixed on the sight of ships lined up like giant ants.
— "So this is Awa… I've never been here before." she whispered, almost impressed.
— "Yeah." Dante murmured, hands clasped behind his back. "It's more modern compared to Duraand."
They pushed into the crowd. Fishermen hauled dripping nets full of silver-scaled fish.
Merchants hollered, boasting of their fresh catches.
Each step made the waterlogged planks groan, and Dante sometimes had to shield Ginny from a swinging elbow or a heavy grain sack thudding to the ground.
— "I don't like places like this," Ginny muttered, clutching her shawl tight around her shoulders. "Everyone's too loud, and everyone looks like they're ready to swindle the first fool they see."
Dante smirked faintly.
— "You're not wrong. But this is where we'll find a ship to cross. Without Awa, Zvrost is out of reach."
They stopped in front of an open tavern by the docks.
Inside, dice clattered on tables, voices rose, and arguments erupted over a handful of coins.
Dante hesitated, his eyes scanning the crude planks and nautical symbols covering the façade.
— "This is where everything gets negotiated." he murmured.
Ginny sighed.
— "Then let's go. The sooner we find a ship, the sooner we're out of here."
Dante shot her a look, equal parts amused and grateful, before pushing open the tavern door, ready to seek a captain bold — or foolish — enough to sail them to the ominous shores of Zvrost.
— "Well…" Dante exhaled. "Looks like we don't really have a choice. Either we find an honest captain, or we get robbed before we even set foot on a boat."
— "Then you'd better put on your most charming smile, Dante. They're not going to listen to me." Ginny said dryly.
They approached a stocky man with a salt-and-pepper beard braided into short cords.
His oil-stained leather apron marked him as a seasoned sailor.
He barked orders at his crew as they rolled barrels onto carts.
— "Captain?" Dante called.
— "Captain, captain…" the man muttered without looking up. "You don't talk to the captain without paying for his time first. So, what do you want?"
Dante gritted his teeth but kept his cool.
— "We're looking for passage to Zvrost. Two seats."
The man finally raised his eyes, sizing up Dante, then Ginny, with suspicion.
— "Zvrost?" He spat on the floor. "That vulture's nest. Few captains set foot there, least of all with strangers onboard. So, what are you paying?"
Ginny arched an eyebrow, recognizing the trap.
Dante reached into his pouch and laid a small purse slowly onto the nearest barrel.
The clink of coins drew a few glances.
— "That should cover two spots, shouldn't it?" he said flatly.
The captain chuckled, a greasy laugh.
— "Cover? That barely buys the rope to hang fools who think they can cross without paying the real price."
Ginny sighed and stepped forward, her amber eyes locked on him.
— "You don't look short on customers, Captain.
But if your holds are full, you also know a little more gold never sank a ship.
We're not merchants. No crates, no animals, no trouble.
Two discreet passengers. You earn quick, we leave quick."
The captain studied her, intrigued by her calm despite her youthful appearance. Then he scratched his beard.
— "Hmm. Not wrong. But Zvrost… it's far and risky. And risk has a price."
Dante crossed his arms.
— "Name it."
A silence followed. Finally, the captain scribbled a number in his ledger and shoved the paper toward them.
Dante's face paled.
— "That's nearly double what I just offered."
— "Then find another fool to take you." the captain sneered, slamming his ledger shut.
Ginny gently laid a hand on Dante's arm, keeping him from losing his temper.
She took the purse, made it jingle, and set it back down — this time with two brighter coins added.
— "This. No more, no less. You win without wasting time, we win without losing our way.
And who knows? Maybe the river itself will thank you for not leaving two souls behind."
The captain narrowed his eyes. The coins gleamed under the candlelight. He weighed the offer, then shrugged.
— "Fine. Deal. But if you cause me the slightest trouble onboard, I'll tie weights to your ankles and toss you over."
Dante smirked.
— "Tough negotiator. But fine, we'll keep things calm."
This time, the captain burst out laughing, genuinely amused. He signaled his crew.
— "Board up. The river won't wait forever."
Ginny and Dante exchanged a glance. Their journey by water was about to begin.