By the time the sun had set, Hadassah had a bright smile on her face and a veggie skewer in hand. Ahqi, on the other hand, was stuck carrying everything odd she had made him buy on her behalf—most of which were useful, but many he feared were cheap rip-offs. Dragging behind her, he admired her relentless energy. She was practically skipping.

  “Hey, it’s getting late. Let’s go back—we need to set off early tomorrow,” he called after her, but she whipped around, biting off a chunk of her skewer.

  “But everything is so beautiful! There are so many lights, stalls, food—everything! There’s just so much of everything.”

  He was beginning to think she’d grown up in complete isolation. Sighing, he trudged forward but suddenly froze, his eyes locked on two figures approaching them. He reached out, pulling her sharply to his side.

  “What—” she started, but he hushed her urgently.

  “Shh.”

  She looked up, following his gaze, and saw what had concerned him. She didn’t know exactly who or what they were, but their aura was enough to make her take a step back, almost hiding behind him.

  Two hounds were heading their way, mostly in human form—feet instead of hind legs—but their faces were unmistakably canine. They were large, muscular, with hoods and wraps covering the lower parts of their faces. On their backs were massive swords, taller than Hadassah and nearly as wide. Their uniforms were black with gold accents. As they neared Ahqi, their legs shifted into those of a dog, and they shrank slightly as they bowed in reverence.

  “Great Celestial, is this half-caste yours?”

  “Yes, she is,” Ahqi replied stiffly.

  The hounds exchanged glances, then eyed Hadassah, who was now fully hiding behind the merman. “Then we must caution you—return to your inns. The townsfolk are lynching tonight, and you don’t want your mongrel to get caught in the mix.”

  ‘Lynching?’ Hadassah thought, biting her tongue. These must be the bloodhounds. True to their reputation, they were terrifying, and their swords alone were enough to make her never want to cross one.

  “Understood. You may leave us,” Ahqi said curtly.

  The bloodhounds bowed once more before stalking off, their hind legs shifting back into human legs and feet as they disappeared into the crowd.

  Once they were gone, Hadassah finally found her voice. “Lynching?” she asked quietly. She knew what that word meant, but the idea of them lynching half-castes in public chilled her.

  “Let’s go back. We’ll leave in the morning,” Ahqi said, his mood darkening. She didn’t have the courage to argue or stay to find out exactly what the hounds had meant.

  They walked back in silence, and Hadassah could no longer stomach her skewer. She had no choice but to discard it. Before she knew it, she was alone in her room, but the sounds of the crowd and music still drifted in through her bedroom window. As the night wore on, the music faded, replaced by distant shouting. She couldn’t make out the words, and she didn’t want to look outside. Her curiosity wasn’t strong enough to override her fear. The shouts grew louder, less joyful, and more desperate.

  She changed into her nightgown and sat on her bed, listening. Listening to the chanting, the laughing, the merriment. And then, she heard it. A scream pierced through the noise, sharp and chilling. Her ears honed in on it, isolating the sound from the rest. Laughter followed immediately after.

  Her body shuddered as she huddled up in her bed, pressing her back against the headboard. The screams multiplied—children crying, girls begging. The wails and cries layered upon each other, growing louder and more overwhelming. Her body shook uncontrollably with fear. She had never been this afraid. ‘Is this what they do to half-castes?’ What would happen to her if she was found out?

  She tried to calm herself, to steady her breathing, but it was in vain. She couldn’t stop the screams any more than she could stop the cold sweat dripping down her back or her chattering teeth.

  A knock at the door startled her, and she flinched. She had forgotten she wasn’t alone. When Ahqi opened the door and saw her terrified, clutching her baldric like a cornered animal, he didn’t know what to do. He stood there, motionless. Had she really never witnessed a lynching before? Was she that isolated? Did she not understand the depth of hatred the world held for humans?

  “Ahqi, I didn’t know,” she began, her words shaky and incoherent. “I didn’t know this place was the abyss.” She wanted to leave right then and there. She couldn’t bear another moment. She wanted to go home. “I want to go home.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  ‘Hadassah, there is no home for you,’ she reminded herself. Or at least, she tried to. But her heart refused to accept it, still clinging to the hope that if she returned to Valdemar, her father would be waiting for her.

  Ahqi’s words pulled her back to the painful reality.

  “You have no home to go to, do you?”

  He watched as she broke down once again before his eyes. He had seen her weep before, but this time, it was even more unbearable.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  They didn’t buy any horses—neither of them knew how to ride—but they set off on foot before dawn broke, with a loaded baldric and a satchel each. The village was silent, but the smell, familiar to Hadassah, drifted towards them. She recognised it instantly. It smelt like pork, roasted over a fire. But she knew the overwhelming, pungent odour wasn’t from pork.

  To leave the town, they had to cross the market square once more, and as they drew closer, the stench became unbearable.

  “Don’t look up,” Ahqi said. Since last night, his voice has been solemn and colder than before. Oddly, that tone made her feel somewhat better. He had draped a cloak over her; the hood pulled low, helping her narrow her focus and block out her peripheral vision. She kept her eyes on the ground as they walked through the square. Leftover skewer sticks littered the floor along with discarded torches.

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  And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw it. A pair of small feet, dangling from something—she didn’t know what. The body had been skinned, not burnt. The blood that had dripped overnight had dried to a crust on the floor. Her eyes widened, her breathing slowing in that moment, and her world came to a standstill.

  Ahqi noticed she had stopped walking.

  Without a word, he took her hand and pulled her forward, past the child’s feet, past what seemed like wooden stumps lined up beside one another, until they had left the settlement behind.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  Her silence throughout the journey weighed heavily on Ahqi. If he had known about the lynching, he wouldn’t have brought her there, but in a way, he felt she needed to see it. At least then, she could be aware of the dangers ahead.

  “Did you really not know? About how they treat half-castes?” he asked, trying to break the oppressive silence between them.

  “I didn’t know they hated humans this much,” she replied, her voice low and strained. “Did their parents not protest? How could they let such cruelty happen?”

  Ahqi hesitated, unsure how to explain it delicately. “You must understand, beastmen who fall in love with humans… they aren’t… normal.”

  “What?” She had never heard such a thing before.

  “Well…” He began cautiously, careful not to insult her mother, “a beastman can never truly love a human. It’s not love—it’s more like a twisted obsession. A kind of curse. Usually, they won’t care for their own children and will choose to die with their human partner. For them, the human becomes their god. It’s a cruel life.”

  Hadassah stopped walking for a moment, looking up through her hood. Unfortunate? Was it the human’s fault? They didn’t ask to be the bearer of such a curse.

  ‘No,’ she thought, stopping herself from directing her anger at the wrong person, ‘If there was anyone to blame, it would be the heavens.’

  “I see,” she finally said, her voice distant. Ahqi didn’t know how to continue the conversation, so he let it fade into the silence once more.

  They walked for hours, through rain and over dry ground, finding shelter when they could and waiting it out when they couldn’t. Hadassah knew her silence weighed on Ahqi, but she didn’t know why her lips felt sewn shut. Her thoughts were too heavy to process into words. Eventually, on a drier night, she relented.

  “Is your name really Ahqi?” She didn’t know why she asked, but it was the only thing that came to mind. Her curiosity for this world had died back in that town, leaving behind something dark she couldn’t quite grasp.

  “Hmm, why?” He lay beside her, staring up at the star-strewn sky. It hadn’t rained that day, and the earth was dry enough to lie on. The stars stretched above them in a beautiful, sprawling canvas.

  “Nothing. If it is your name, it’s fine.” She turned on her side, resting her head on her hand to keep her hair from pressing against the ground.

  He shifted, lying on his side to face her. “If I tell you my real name, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t care anymore.” He made it sound like such a big secret. If it was, he could keep it.

  He merely smiled at her words, as if expecting that reaction from her.

  “My name is Caelestis. You can tell beasts you met me, but they wouldn’t believe you anyway.”

  “I’d be too embarrassed to say I met you.” Did he really think she’d be going around advertising his name?

  He stifled a laugh. “Well, I am not like you. I have dignity. If anyone asks if I’ve met a Hadassah, I’ll say yes.”

  “No need. You can pretend you don’t know me.” Even she was starting to smile now. He might be irritating, but it was the good kind.

  They fell into a comfortable silence, looking at each other until her smile finally faded.

  “I’m a bit afraid of this world,” she started softly. “I don’t want to die.” The last part came out as barely a whisper.

  “You won’t die.” He said it with such confidence that it felt like he must know her future.

  She looked at him sceptically. “You say that with such certainty. I’m jealous. I’m afraid my confidence is lacking.” She wanted his confidence, even if just for one night.

  “Then, do you want to borrow mine? Just for one night?”

  Her brows furrowed. “Don’t tell me you can read minds.”

  “Ah, I wish.”

  She gave him a dubious look, making him double down.

  “Seriously, I can’t,” he reassured her. “Your thoughts are written all over your face. How could I not tell what you’re thinking?”

  Immediately, she fixed her expression, relaxing her eyebrows and letting the corners of her lips fall, much to his amusement.

  “Well, never again,” she said stiffly, clearly trying to hold her expression in place.

  They stared at each other for a moment, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t maintain that rigid expression. A smile slowly crept back onto her lips.

  “Okay, I really have to fix that,” she said, trying to stop herself from smiling.

  “Why? I like when you smile. It feels like you’re not sad anymore.”

  At his words, she finally let herself smile fully and turned to stare up at the sky. There were as many mysteries in this world as there were stars in the sky, and her life was one of those mysteries.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “For what?”

  “For coming with me. You have to go back after this, right?” He was silent, so she turned to look at him only to find he was still watching her.

  ‘How odd, were his eyes always this profound?’ She had thought his eyes were light, almost translucent, but now they seemed to hold an unexpected complexity.

  “One day, I’ll come and find you again,” he said, his voice drifting with the wind. “Then, you might have to accompany me instead.”

  She smiled. “I wouldn’t mind. At least it would be interesting.”

  He raised a brow in surprise, then his expression turned into one of concern, like a parent whose child had just said something strange. “Is it really okay to agree so easily? I might be different by then.”

  “Hah… I promise, I’ll go with you, no matter what sins you’ve committed.” She couldn’t believe this mild-mannered merman could actually do anything terrible.

  “You promised. You can’t take it back.”

  “What do you take me for? I won’t!”

  The night passed by quickly, and after a few hours of walking the next day, they arrived at the Colossus.

  “Well, this is it. Pretty huge, right?” Ahqi said, crossing his arms as if to admire the abandoned sculpture.

  Huge was an understatement. It was absolutely massive. The statue, seemingly of a woman, was larger than any house Hadassah had ever seen, nearly reaching the height of the tallest trees in Valdemar. The craftsmanship was breathtaking. Despite the moss growing over it, the woman’s beauty was so intense that Hadassah couldn’t help but wonder if she herself had once been a Celestial. Each strand of curly hair looked lifelike, carved with such care. The sword in her hand was so enormous that Hadassah couldn’t comprehend any beast wielding it.

  “Does it have a name?” she asked Ahqi.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure. If you find any local beasts, just ask them. They should know. There should be a Rabbit Tribe a few days away…”

  She looked back at the statue, having stared at it for what felt like too long, and turned to Ahqi with an expression of gratitude. “Ahqi…”

  A shiver ran down his spine, and he took a step back. “What? Why do you look like that?”

  Before he could say more, she rushed forward and hugged him tightly. Only after realising she hadn’t done anything to hurt him did he finally relax.

  “You’re scary. Please don’t make that face next time,” he muttered.

  “Shut up,” she replied, her voice muffled against his shirt.

  When she finally let go, he had a wide grin on his face. “Take care of yourself. Get home safe.”

  “That’s my line. Take care of yourself. Don’t get lynched.”

  “That’s not funny,” she snapped, the screams of the children still haunting her at night.

  He laughed nervously. “Oh, and—” He lifted his arm, showing off the bracelet. “Thanks again for this. I’ll give it back another time.”

  “No need, no need.”

  He waved her off casually and started to leave. But after a few steps, he turned back to her. “Try not to die.”

  The warning glare she gave him clearly amused him as he burst into maniacal laughter before walking away.

  ‘That guy…’ she thought, shaking her head. She should’ve at least hit him once.

  Seeing his back get smaller and smaller, sadness tugged at her heart, and her smile quickly became obsolete. She wanted to ask him to stay with her, so she wasn’t alone, yet she didn’t, for reasons left unsaid.