Paola sat quietly in the plush chair, her heart racing as she took in the luxurious office and the imposing presence of Lady Marcelline. She felt a mixture of awe and trepidation, her mind reeling from the revelations Ayla had shared earlier. The room was opulent, with walls adorned with rich paintings and maps, the furniture a blend of luxurious velvet and sturdy wood. The dying glow of the setting sun streamed in through the wraparound window, casting long shadows that added to the room's grandeur.

  Lady Marcelline turned to face them, her ice-blue eyes piercing. "Ayla, it is truly a delight to see you’ve survived the ordeal with the Cave Hounds. Tell me, how did you manage to survive through the Miridian Mountains after you were separated from the carriage?"

  Ayla sat up straight, her posture as rigid as a soldier's. "My Lady, it was a harrowing experience. After the carriage was attacked, I was forced to flee deeper into the Miridian Mountains. The terrain was treacherous, but I managed to outmaneuver most of the Cave Hounds by collapsing a bridge behind me, taking down many of them in the process."

  Lady Marcelline nodded, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "And what of Paola, here? How did you find her?"

  Ayla glanced at Paola, her expression softening for a moment before she continued. "I encountered Paola shortly after the summoning spell. I had been escaping the remaining Cave Hounds when I saw the falling star. Intrigued, I followed its trajectory and found Paola. At first, I believed she might be the falling star, but after speaking with her, I discovered she is a simple farmer from the Solaria Province."

  Paola's eyes widened in surprise. She had not expected Ayla to lie, especially not so convincingly. The Solaria Province? She had never heard of it, but Ayla spoke with such confidence that it seemed plausible. Paola felt a pang of guilt but remained silent, trusting Ayla's judgment.

  "Solaria Province," Lady Marcelline repeated, her eyes flicking to Paola. "The sun-kissed plains and golden wheat fields. Which city?"

  "Helios, my Lady," Ayla answered confidently. "Paola was bathing when a summoning spell pulled her away from her bath. She had been surviving on her own for a week before I found her on the brink of death, well before the summoning event."

  Paola tried to keep her expression neutral, her mind racing. How could Ayla lie so effortlessly? She had always been honest with her, but now, facing Lady Marcelline, the truth seemed to be an inconvenience.

  "I see," Lady Marcelline said, her tone thoughtful. "And what of the Falling Star? Were you able to locate it?"

  Ayla shook her head. "No, my Lady. I searched, but there was no sign of it. Paola was the only person I found, and she was in desperate need of help."

  Lady Marcelline's eyes softened slightly, but the firmness in her voice remained. "And then?"

  Ayla recounted their journey, her voice unwavering. "After finding Paola, we were attacked by bandits. It was a close call, but we managed to fend them off. Then, we encountered various beasts—Cave Hounds, slimes, and stalkers. Each battle was a fight for survival, but we managed to overcome them."

  Lady Marcelline's expression was unreadable, her eyes fixed on Ayla as she continued.

  "We discovered a lost city while fleeing from more Cave Stalkers. It was an incredible sight, my Lady, and I believe it warrants further investigation. We barely escaped with our lives, but the city held many secrets."

  Lady Marcelline made a note, her interest clearly piqued. "I will send a team to investigate. What else?"

  Ayla hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "We encountered Thrix Yas'tavot and got involved with Ovocohos the FleshCrafter. It was... complicated. We tried to help Thrix save a friend, but it stirred up trouble with Ovocohos. Both of them are well-known, and it was a delicate situation."

  Lady Marcelline's eyebrows rose slightly. "Indeed. Thrix and Ovocohos are not to be trifled with. You took a great risk."

  Ayla nodded. "Yes, my Lady. But we managed to navigate the situation without major incident."

  Lady Marcelline leaned back, her fingers steepled as she regarded Ayla. "And what is your next plan for Paola? You seem to have taken responsibility for her."

  Paola felt a pang of unease at being spoken about as if she were an object or a lost pet. She glanced at Ayla, searching for reassurance.

  Ayla met Lady Marcelline's gaze, her voice unwavering. "My Lady, Paola and I... we have developed feelings for each other. I wish to request permission to engage in a personal relationship with her."

  For the first time, Lady Marcelline's expression shifted, a single eyebrow twitching upward. "Feelings, Ayla? What do you mean by this?"

  Ayla took a deep breath, her gaze steady. "I have caught feelings for Paola, my Lady. She means a great deal to me, and I wish to pursue a relationship with her."

  Lady Marcelline's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. "A relationship? And you are asking for my permission?"

  Ayla nodded, her expression resolute. "Yes, my Lady. I respect your authority and understand the importance of my duties, but I cannot deny my feelings for Paola."

  Lady Marcelline was silent for a moment, her gaze piercing as she studied Ayla. Then, she leaned forward slightly, her tone sharp. "And why, Ayla, are you not asking about your team?"

  Ayla stiffened, her eyes widening in surprise and fear. Paola felt a chill run down her spine, the weight of Lady Marcelline's question hanging heavily in the air. The room fell silent, the tension thick and oppressive, as they awaited Ayla's response. Ayla flushed red, struggling for words under Lady Marcelline's piercing gaze. The room felt thick with tension, each moment stretching unbearably. Lady Marcelline finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the air like a knife.

  "Gwenore," Lady Marcelline called out, her tone commanding.

  Without a moment's hesitation, Gwenore entered the room, moving quickly to the Lady's side. Lady Marcelline's eyes never left Ayla as she addressed her head maid.

  "Gwenore, do you have any information about Ayla’s knowledge regarding her team?" Lady Marcelline asked, her voice deceptively calm.

  Gwenore stiffened, her eyes flicking to Ayla before she answered. "My Lady, I may have inadvertently let it slip that Ayla had been replaced."

  Lady Marcelline's expression darkened, and she let out a disapproving "tsk" before dismissing Gwenore with a curt nod. "Remember your place, Gwenore. Such information should be delivered by me personally."

  Gwenore bowed her head in acknowledgment, her posture rigid, before she exited the room. Ayla, though relieved that the scrutiny had shifted away from her, still appeared tense.

  Lady Marcelline turned her attention back to Ayla, her voice gentle yet firm. "Ayla, you have been officially replaced by Ashekin Gravehorn, a Minotaur General from Helios." She glanced at Paola, a small smile playing on her lips. "It seems Helios is quite prominent in our discussion today."

  Paola felt a chill run down her spine at the mention of the city she had never actually seen, but had used as part of her fabricated backstory. She forced a weak smile in response.

  Lady Marcelline continued, her tone taking on a more sympathetic note. "Ayla, you were presumed dead. Your team had jobs to do, and they could not wait indefinitely."

  Ayla nodded, her expression a mix of understanding and regret. "I understand, my Lady."

  Lady Marcelline sighed, her gaze softening slightly. "What was your job, Ayla?"

  "To protect and serve you, my Lady," Ayla answered without hesitation.

  Lady Marcelline's eyes hardened. "The dead do not serve anyone, Ayla."

  Ayla winced at the sharp rebuke, but she remained silent.

  "And tell me," Lady Marcelline continued, her voice growing more intimidating, "why did you not bring Paola here as soon as you returned to Valarian? Why stay at the inn?"

  Both Paola and Ayla froze, their minds racing. How had Lady Marcelline known they were in the city? Ayla hesitated, her mind scrambling for an explanation.

  "With all due respect, my Lady," Ayla began, her voice trembling slightly, "in the last seven years, I have not had a moment of... freedom. I took advantage of that. I apologize." She bowed her head, her expression one of genuine remorse.

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  Lady Marcelline's response was a chilling mix of danger and pleasantness. "You are not free, Ayla. Never think of doing something like that again. If you ever feel that way, flee, flee as far as you can."

  Ayla quickly nodded, her face pale. Paola's heart thumped in her chest at the casual threat.

  Lady Marcelline's demeanor shifted once more, returning to a casual indifference. "Now, about this relationship you wish to pursue. Can you manage your duties and a relationship? Is it something you even want to risk?"

  Ayla's resolve seemed to strengthen. "Yes, my Lady. I believe I can manage both."

  Lady Marcelline's gaze turned to Paola, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And what can Paola bring to this arrangement? Is she truly a simple farmer? If so, she could work in my fields while you fulfill your duties."

  Paola shrunk deeper into her chair, feeling smaller than ever. Ayla, sensing her discomfort, spoke up. "My Lady, I would like to take Paola under my wing as an adventurer. She has shown great resilience and potential."

  Lady Marcelline raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. She seemed to consider Ayla's words carefully before responding. "Very well. I will assign another member to your team, giving you a three-member group. I have tasks that require your attention."

  Ayla visibly relaxed, a smile forming on her lips. "Thank you, my Lady. That is most generous."

  "But," Lady Marcelline added, her eyes hardening once more, "should you fail in your duties, or should your relationship affect them negatively, there will be consequences. Am I understood?"

  "Yes, my Lady," Ayla and Paola replied in unison, their voices wavering slightly.

  "Good," Lady Marcelline said, her demeanor shifting back to its usual casualness.

  Lady Marcelline’s expression was entirely unreadable as she stared at them, her gaze sharp and calculating. Paola felt as though she were walking on the edge of a knife, unsure whether she would be pushed or pulled back to safety. After what felt like an eternity, Lady Marcelline finally moved her gaze to Paola.

  “Is your family missing you, Paola?” Lady Marcelline asked, her tone deceptively casual. “What is the culture like in Helios? I've always wanted to go, but to get to that side of Udanara would cost far more than I’d be willing to spend,” she joked, waving her hand dismissively.

  Paola swallowed hard, her mind racing to come up with an answer. “My family... I’m sure they miss me. Helios is a vibrant city, always full of life and light. The markets are bustling, and there’s always a festival or celebration happening. The people are warm and welcoming,” she said, hoping her fabricated story would hold.

  Lady Marcelline tapped her finger on her chin, humming thoughtfully. “A summoning spell gone wrong to have pulled someone that far from Helios,” she mused aloud. “I will need to speak to Jester as well, the Magist of the Palace. You’ll find him quite... unique.”

  Paola couldn’t help but wonder if Magist was some equivalent to wizard or sorcerer. She felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension about meeting this Jester.

  “Tell me, Paola,” Lady Marcelline continued, “what is your class?”

  Paola hesitated. “I don’t have one yet. The farm I tended to... I wasn’t allowed access to the Tree of Life until recently. Class unlock is at level 20.”

  Lady Marcelline narrowed her eyes. “Do you have any other traits?”

  Paola fumbled for words. “A lot of my gear was a gift from Thrix. I helped in some fights, and it led me to want to be an adventurer.”

  Lady Marcelline sat quietly, her eyes studying Paola and Ayla as if she were piecing together a complex puzzle. Finally, she nodded. “Very well. I will bring in someone with the Instructor class to set you on the right path.”

  Turning her attention back to Ayla, Lady Marcelline’s voice softened slightly. “I am glad you are back. Take a couple of days to heal here at the palace. There is still work to be done. The Festival of Breath is set to come next month, and there is plenty of preparation needed.”

  Ayla stood and bowed, and Paola quickly followed suit, mimicking Ayla’s actions. Lady Marcelline dismissed them with a wave, her focus already shifting to the next matter at hand.

  Instead of returning to the guest room, Ayla led Paola to her own quarters, now that she was once again allowed to live at the palace. As they walked through the grand corridors, Paola marveled at the opulence around her but remained acutely aware of the tension that had filled the room.

  Ayla’s room was a haven of warmth and comfort, instantly reminding Paola of Sedona, Arizona. The walls were painted in rich, earthy tones of red and gold, reminiscent of the vibrant desert landscape. A large, comfortable bed with a wrought iron frame stood in the center of the room, covered in soft blankets and plush pillows that invited relaxation. Two elegant nightstands flanked the bed, each holding a delicate lamp that cast a warm glow throughout the space.

  A beautifully carved wooden dresser stood against one wall, topped with a large, ornate mirror that reflected the room’s inviting ambiance. A small sitting area was arranged near the window, with a pair of cushioned chairs and a low table set for tea. The window itself offered a breathtaking view of Valarian, the sprawling city bathed in the soft light of the night.

  A private bath adjoined the room, its door slightly ajar to reveal a luxurious space with a deep soaking tub and intricate tilework. The scent of lavender and chamomile hung in the air, hinting at the promise of a relaxing soak after a long day.

  Paola was drawn to the window, the view of the night sky captivating her. Millions of stars twinkled above, painting the sky with their ethereal light. She stood there, staring out at the vast expanse, feeling a sense of awe and wonder.

  Ayla joined her by the window, her expression softening as she took in the view. “Paola, I’m sorry about lying back there,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with regret. “I panicked.”

  Paola turned to her, a small smile on her lips. “It’s fine, Ayla. I had your back.”

  Ayla looked at her, gratitude and affection shining in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  They stood there in silence for a moment, the stars above providing a serene backdrop to their thoughts. Then, Ayla leaned in, her lips brushing gently against Paola’s in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, connected in that intimate moment.

  Paola felt her heart swell with emotion, the warmth of Ayla’s presence enveloping her. She knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. The kiss deepened, their connection growing stronger with each passing second.

  As they finally pulled apart, Ayla rested her forehead against Paola’s, their breaths mingling. Her gaze was tender and affectionate, and Paola felt her heart skip a beat. She had never experienced such an intense connection with anyone before, and she was determined to hold on to it, no matter what.

  ***

  Cassian trudged behind Ashekin, glaring at the back of the Minotaur. The massive figure of their new captain cut an imposing silhouette against the jagged peaks of the Miridian Mountains, his heavy hooves pressing deep into the gravelly path. Each step sent a small tremor through the ground, a rhythmic stomp that only fueled Cassian’s irritation.

  He didn’t trust Ashekin. It wasn’t about leadership or even Ayla’s replacement—if she were really dead. He hated that thought. It curdled in his gut every time it surfaced, and no matter how much he told himself she was like a sister, there was something in him that resisted the lie.

  Liora walked beside him, her bow slung casually across her back. She moved with the grace of a predator, every step measured, deliberate. Unlike Ashekin, her presence was light, quiet, nearly blending with the wind that whistled through the canyon. She smelled like lavender and the wilds—an odd contrast given the leaves and twigs woven into her red curls.

  “You still think we’re going to find something?” she asked, voice hushed.

  Cassian exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “No.”

  “Yeah. Me neither.” She sighed, glancing up at the towering ribs of the ancient Leviathan, their pale bones stark against the fading light. “Feels like a waste of time. Like we’re just being led in circles.”

  He nodded but said nothing. He had the same suspicion. The moment Lady Marcelline had sent them here, he'd felt something was off. But voicing it wouldn’t change anything. They were already too deep.

  Thane followed behind them, his footsteps heavier than Liora’s but near silent compared to Ashekin’s. The big man had always been quiet, watchful, his axe slung over his shoulder like an afterthought. Cassian took comfort in that. Thane was solid, unshakable.

  Liora suddenly halted, her arm pressing against Cassian’s chest. “Look.”

  He followed her gaze to where Ashekin had stopped. Just beyond him, near the edge of the path, was something unnatural—a darkened scorch mark on one of the Leviathan’s ribs. Something had struck it, burned through the ancient bone.

  Cassian stepped forward, scanning the ground. Then he saw it. Across the pass, wedged into the mountainside on the far side of the Seracian Rift, was a body.

  At first, it was nothing more than a dark shape, half-buried in debris. But as the wind shifted, it pulled away the dust, revealing more. The figure was clad in strange armor, dark and segmented, unlike anything Cassian had ever seen. Not like steel, nor leather, nor the woven mail of the Dragon Guard. It was smooth, foreign, fitted tightly against the body. Something gleamed on its chest, a strange insignia, half-obscured by the dirt.

  Cassian frowned. “That’s it.”

  “The fallen star?” Liora asked.

  “The body,” Ashekin confirmed. “We need it.”

  Liora snorted. “Bit of a problem, don’t you think?” She gestured toward the chasm that stretched between them and their prize. The Seracian Rift was deep, a sheer drop into nothingness. A chasm that had no bottom. No bridge. No way across.

  Cassian clenched his jaw. The body—their so-called fallen star—lay just out of reach, the answer to whatever mystery Lady Marcelline had sent them chasing. But the Rift made it impossible.

  Liora crouched near the edge, peering down into the abyss. “Could probably climb it.”

  Cassian shook his head. “No way back up.”

  Thane stepped forward, eyes narrowed. He shook his head as if agreeing. Winds were too strong and a jump would mean suicide.

  Cassian exhaled through his nose, frustration prickling his skin. They had come all this way for nothing.

  Liora leaned back on her heels, casting him a sidelong glance. “What’s the plan, then? We gonna stand here and hope the Rift magically shrinks?”

  He ignored her and stared at the body across the chasm. Something about it unsettled him. Maybe it was the armor, the way it fit like a second skin. Maybe it was the unnatural way the corpse had landed, limbs stiff, face turned toward them as if it had been waiting.

  Cassian shook his head, his mind drifting unwillingly to Ayla. If she were here, she’d have already found a way. She wouldn’t hesitate. Wouldn’t let them linger in doubt.

  His fingers curled into fists. He hated this feeling—this gnawing, festering thing inside him. Grief. Doubt. Regret. She had been like a sister to him. But he also knew that wasn’t the whole truth. It never had been.

  “Cassian.” Liora’s voice pulled him back.

  He blinked. She was watching him, her expression softer than usual. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was gripping his sword hilt.

  She sighed. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t go brooding on me now.”

  “I’m not.”

  She arched a brow. “Liar.”

  Ashekin grunted, turning his attention back to the Rift. “We need a way across.”

  Cassian exhaled slowly, focusing back on the task at hand. The Rift was their obstacle. The body—whatever it was, whoever it had been—was their answer. But they weren’t getting to it. Not today.

  Ashekin turned to speak, but his nostrils flared, and he froze. His ears twitched as he sniffed the air, his posture stiffening.

  Liora noticed immediately. “What?” she whispered, her fingers brushing against the fletching of an arrow.

  “Something’s wrong,” Ashekin murmured, his deep voice lower than before. “The wind… it carries something foul.”

  Cassian straightened, scanning the darkening landscape. Then he saw it—shadows shifting within the crevice near the Rift, movement where there should have been none.

  The wind howled again, and a faint clicking noise echoed from the dark.

  Ashekin growled. “Weapons ready.”

  Cassian drew his sword, the weight of steel familiar in his hands. Whatever lurked in the crevice had been waiting.

  And now, it was coming for them.