The city before them pulsed with energy—roaring, unruly, and dangerous. The streets of Ravaryn, one of the largest outer cities near the border of the Empire, were a swirling sea of people. Thieves moved like shadows in the crowd, vendors shouted over each other with offers of shady goods, and mercenaries lined the alleys in search of the next coin-covered corpse.
Aizen stepped through the gates with narrowed eyes. His towering figure—lean, powerful, and dark as stormy skies—drew glances from guards and rogues alike. His black hair had grown slightly longer over the year, with a streak of silver on the right side that shimmered when the light hit it. His golden eyes glowed beneath the shadow of his hood, and the lion's scar under his left eye made him look even more intimidating.
"Stay close," Aizen warned, his voice sharp and low. The group tightened around him.
Lyra walked beside him, her beauty standing out even in a place where everything screamed danger. Her once-pristine silver hair now flowed with a graceful wildness, glowing faintly with the magic she constantly refined. Her deep purple eyes scanned the area with calm elegance—but her hand never left the hilt of her crystal blade.
"Ravaryn… It reeks of blood and lies," she murmured.
Lina, now muscular and agile like a jungle predator, growled softly. Her green eyes locked onto the rooftops, tail twitching. "Smells like someone's been watching us since we entered."
"I felt it too," Aizen replied, eyes darting toward a cloaked figure on a balcony who disappeared the moment they made eye contact.
Despite the city's madness, the children were excited. Mikaela twirled her staff and skipped beside Theodore. "This place is so loud! Look, Theo! There's food! There's swords! There's… ooh, a man with no pants!"
Theodore nearly choked. "Mikaela, stop staring!"
They all laughed for a moment. Even Aizen smiled.
They walked deeper into the city until they reached the center square—cracked marble floors, a broken statue of a fallen king, and hundreds of shady stalls. It was here they noticed something odd.
A group of guards—each wearing armor etched with blood-red runes—was dragging a beastman boy through the crowd. He was bruised, begging in a voice too hoarse to scream.
"What did he do?" Lyra asked a nearby vendor.
"Stole bread," the old woman replied, not looking up. "A mouthful. Same punishment as always. Public beating. Or worse."
Lina stepped forward, fists clenched. "That's cruel! He's just a kid!"
"Welcome to Ravaryn," the vendor said coldly.
Aizen's jaw tightened. His grip on his sword hilt grew.
But Lyra touched his arm. "Not yet," she whispered. "We don't want to bring the whole city guard on us."
"…For now," Aizen growled.
They rented an old tavern room for the night—a three-story building creaking with age but quiet enough to rest. Aizen sat at the window, watching the moon cast an eerie glow over the dark city. Lyra joined him after tucking the kids into their shared room.
"They're calling us Mama and Papa more now," she said softly.
Aizen looked over at her, his expression softer now. "Feels… nice, doesn't it?"
Lyra blushed, turning her face away. "…Yeah."
Downstairs, the barkeep warned them of the city's underground. "Don't trust anyone," he rasped. "Especially not the 'Crimson Hand'. They run everything in the shadows."
Aizen's golden eyes narrowed. "Crimson Hand…"
The name sent a ripple of memory through his mind. He remembered stories. A group known for enslaving beastmen, trafficking rare bloodlines, and working with corrupt dragon nobles.
And they were here.
As the group settled for the night, a thunderstorm rolled over the city—lightning flashing behind the clouds like Aizen's soul preparing to rage again. His thoughts echoed in silence.
"This place… might be the key to everything."