The journey to the White Rabbit Tribe was relatively short, just a week from the dead stone giant. They mostly traversed the muddy grasslands, which made the ride tedious until they reached a major road. At that point, the journey became smoother, and they could finally buy a new horse instead of relying on Zarek’s sheer strength to pull the waggon.
The day they arrived at the beast city, the faint rumble of distant thunder made its presence known, drawing nearer with each passing minute. Hadassah listened to the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves, feeling a sense of tranquillity, though she was far from rested. It had been days since she’d had a proper sleep, and the few minutes of rest she managed were always interrupted by her waking abruptly. She hoped that once they arrived at their destination, she could finally get a bath, lie down in a warm bed, and allow herself to sleep.
As night descended fully, a brilliant glow began to emerge in the distance, growing larger as they approached. Vortigern, the beast city, was spectacular. While most of the city itself was a collection of traditional stone and wood buildings, bustling streets, and vibrant market squares, a massive tree loomed in the background, casting its shade over the entire city like a large canopy. The tree was immense, its trunk towering high above the rooftops and stretching towards the sky. Though the city below was alive with lanterns, shop fronts, and street lamps, the tree itself was quiet, though she could make out what seemed like windows in its trunk, as if someone lived there.
The tree’s branches stretched far and wide, lit with glowing spheres at different intervals; its trunk was wide enough to be seen from nearly every corner of the beast city. The base of the tree was surrounded by thick roots that snaked their way into the city’s outermost districts, blending into the streets and even becoming buildings. There was no way such a tree was a natural phenomenon.
“There are truly numerous mysteries in this world,” Hadassah muttered out loud, much to Neveah’s amusement, who looked like she was enjoying the reaction of a country bumpkin.
“This is Vortigern,” Kaladin said, catching her astonished gaze. “The smallest beast city on the continent. The Vortigern family governs independently under the authority of the sky deities. They’ve only been around since the massacre.”
‘This is small?’ Hadassah thought. A town was fascinating; now seeing a city, it was overwhelming to imagine so many beastmen in one place. Hearing and seeing were truly two different things.
Neveah and Zarek, however, seemed unimpressed; they had most likely been here before, seen better, or both. “It’s nice, but nothing compared to Reverie,” Neveah remarked. “Don’t let this little city impress you.” Reverie, as Hadassah had learned, was the largest and most prosperous city on the continent. It had stood for centuries and was the city of gods.
Still, Hadassah’s excitement couldn’t be dulled. As the waggon rolled into the city, she noticed the massive roots that jutted from the earth, forming natural sitting spots for the beastmen who gathered around. There were stalls set up around the base of the tree, with merchants selling food and wares to passers-by. Beastmen of all kinds, from different tribes, sat on the roots, eating and talking beneath the glowing orbs that lined the streets.
“How does something like this even exist?” Hadassah muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
“It’s quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Kaladin said, tapping his staff lightly on the side of the waggon. He turned to the four, and like a teacher, he proceeded to quiz them. “Care to guess how a city like this came to be?”
Zarek scoffed. “Do I look like I know? What do you take me for, a scholar?”
Hadassah stifled a laugh. If Zarek was a scholar, then she was a peerless genius. Such a crude man could not possibly be a scholar, a warrior maybe, but he looked like he would tear books in two to use for kindling.
Kaladin chuckled at Zarek’s gruff response before turning to Neveah, clearly expecting her to have a more thoughtful answer.
“I don’t know,” Neveah said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Maybe a Harbinger made it? Or some kind of powerful beastman.”
Kaladin nodded thoughtfully, though his expression dulled just slightly. “A good guess, but not quite. A Harbinger with such power would be a rare thing indeed.”
‘And impossible,’ Hadassah thought to herself, but then, thinking of Rahn being a shadow monster, she reconsidered. ‘Ok, maybe it is possible.’
He turned to Hadassah, curious to hear her take on the situation. “And what do you think?”
Hadassah remembered her father’s lessons—when faced with things that seemed impossible, the answer was usually the same. “Could it be an artefact?” she ventured cautiously.
Neveah burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound. “A tree, an artefact? Really? How cute is that?”
Zarek, never one to hold back, openly laughed at Hadassah’s suggestion. “What, do you think this tree has magical powers too?”
Hadassah clenched her fists, her face burning with embarrassment. She felt foolish, but she tried not to let it show, forcing a strained smile. She knew her knowledge was lacking, but having her stupidity laid bare was hard to swallow.
Kaladin, however, said nothing, and his eyes gleamed with a strange light that none of the others seemed to notice.
They headed deeper and deeper into the city. The outskirts were littered with visitors and those who set up camp inside the city’s borders which were guarded by bloodhounds in the same black uniforms. The closer they got to the tree, the finer the clothing of the citizens became. Plain, dull colours gave way to purples and blues; fewer children ran around, and more stayed by their father’s side. The innermost part of the beast city was filled with shops, inns, and homes. The buildings here were finely constructed, with carved stone statues and wooden beams, courtyards, multiple gates, beastmen in sedans, guards, and servants. It smelt and looked like opulence exemplified. Young girls took strolls, followed by strict servants behind them, wearing veils; they seemed to move freely, their hair done up in beautiful updos secured with pins.
The closer they got to the tree, the fewer beastmen they saw in beast form. Everyone here looked human, wearing slim dresses and fitted pants, their ears or tails left to wag freely in the air. Hadassah found it strange—if they were so proud of their races, why insist on human forms? She noticed the servants looked more animalistic than their nobles, often in semi beast forms with strange mixed faces. There were no open flames here, only glowing lanterns, quiet stalls, beautiful jewellery, and finely made food.
They arrived at a building resembling the inn she had seen previously with Ahqi, but bigger and more spacious. Inside, there were three floors, and at the centre was a stage where a courtesan was performing. Women drank and laughed, enjoying the show, clinking glasses, and playing games amongst each other. The courtesan was beautiful, his waist lean and moving sensually to the beat of drums and the melody of lutes.
Hadassah found it all new, overstimulating, and way too colourful. Zarek handed over their horse to be taken care of, and their waggon was soon enough taken for disposal.
They were taken past the front building to the back with multiple courts and were shown to a corner of the building where they had their own rooms and square courtyard.
She was shown to a room, and the servant retreated. Hadassah had a look inside and felt grateful at how spacious it was. There was even a divider so Rahn could stay on the other side of the room; it made her feel a bit like a shell-sucking leech. Rahn seemed unbothered. He was quick to unbutton his collar, as if it were a chain around his neck.
Hadassah stepped out of the room to see Kaladin outside, seemingly waiting for her.
“Thank you for the room,” she thanked Kaladin, immediately bowing her head slightly, knowing she had no hopes of finding somewhere to sleep for the night on her own. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
“You still want to leave?” Kaladin asked, his question sounding strange.
“Well, I don’t know if we will be able to afford something like this.” She said, a bit embarrassed.
“Then don’t. I’ll take care of it.”
Hadassah furrowed her brows.Was he generous, stupid, or scheming? “I don’t have anything to give in return. Even if you sell me out to the bloodhounds, the reward will not be much.”
Kaladin laughed. “Now why would I do that? I just want to help. I haven’t seen someone like you in twenty years. It’s the least I can do. When you decide where you’re going next, you can leave anytime you want.”
She was moved, though she had never expected to rely on the kindness of strangers; seeing a kind person was extremely lucky, unless it was no coincidence.
She noticed Zarek and Neveah had changed and were walking out. They looked majestic in red robes, like actual nobles. Zarek was wearing a gold band that looked like it would snap with a flex of his muscles, while Neveah had a string of pearls running down her neck, disappearing beneath her breasts. Her hair was beautifully styled, and her arms were adorned with a few sets of large glossy wooden beads.
Zarek crossed his arms and smirked. “We’re going to look around. You don’t plan to tag along, do you?”
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Hadassah tensed; his tone made her want to say no, but she wanted to see the city, and going alone wasn’t smart.
Zarek noticed her discomfort and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you need a babysitter. What, are you a sheltered kid or something?”
Neveah rolled her eyes at Zarek’s teasing. “Stop being an idiot. She’ll be fine.” She adjusted her rows of pearls. “I’m going to the markets to shop for clothes. You should come help me carry the bags.”
“I’d rather die,” Zarek retorted.
“As if death wants to see your face,” Neveah shot back.
Hadassah couldn’t get a word in, so she simply stood there, feeling slightly out of place as the two of them bickered before wandering off.
Kaladin tapped his staff against the floor twice, and she looked up at him.
“You can come with me. We need to get you some supplies.”
Hadassah nodded, her heart filling with gratitude as she peered back into her room. Rahn had found a bowl of fruit and already had one in hand, looking like he was going to swallow it whole.
“I’m going to buy a few things. Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
He looked at her, his hand stopping mid-air. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but stopped. “If you need help, run and find me. You can sniff me out, can’t you?”
He nodded slowly.
“Okay, I’ll be back!”
He watched her leave and looked back at the fruit in his hand before crushing it, his appetite gone. The red juice and pieces mixed, eventually dripping onto the floor.
The two made their way through the bustling market square. Hadassah’s eyes roamed over the stalls, filled with colourful fabrics, weapons, books, and other miscellaneous items. The market was lively, with beastmen of various tribes hawking their wares and shoppers casually picking goods. She quickly selected things she needed—books, writing materials, new clothes, and even some weapons for herself.
To her surprise, Kaladin paid for everything without hesitation, even the most expensive items. She tried to be considerate, but when it became clear he wasn’t bothered by the cost, she allowed herself to indulge a little, picking out the best quality she could find. She also picked up new clothes for Rahn and more calligraphy pens, intending to teach him how to read and write in the future.
“You’re really going to pay for all this?” she asked, still finding it hard to believe.
Kaladin shrugged as though it were nothing. “You need it, don’t you? Besides, it’s just shells.”
Hadassah couldn’t argue with that. She felt a bit lighter, more at ease, knowing she could finally have some of the things she needed. If he ever asked for the shells back, she would just disappear. It wasn’t her fault he made stupid financial decisions.
“You’re buying a lot of male clothes. Do you have another mate? You look quite young,” the woman at the till asked. Her question felt intrusive, but Hadassah forced herself to smile and answer.
“Something like that.”
The woman sighed as she looked at Kaladin, who was off to the side, admiring a set of waist beads. “He’s quite good for a first mate, though a bit short. If you get tired of him and want to sell him at a discount, I have a daughter about your age who would love him.”
‘What?’
For a second, Hadassah couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, but seeing that the woman took her own words lightly, she had no choice but to keep smiling. “I see…”
“A lot of men were lost to the expedition this time. It’ll be hard for the young girls.”
“I’m new around here; what happened to the expedition?” Hadassah asked, steering the conversation away from mate-swapping.
The woman was more than happy to indulge in a little more gossip. “I heard it was a success, but they met a feral on the way back that killed a lot of the males.”
‘A feral?’
Hadassah grimaced at the thought. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Yes, but at least they cleared the border forest. If those monsters climb out again, they’ll be killed eventually.” She packed the last few things into thin bags that looked like paper. “They’ll be back soon. You’ll get to have a look. If you like one of the males, you should just take them before it’s too late; pay their mating gift later.”
Hadassah nodded as if she were in agreement, but her mind stored the information for another time.
Kaladin picked out a pink string of beads from the display and added it to their order. Hadassah looked at him with one brow raised silently asking if he was the type to enjoy wearing waist beads. “They’re for you, not for me. I think pink looks nice on you.”
She thanked him politely, she was not one to wear waist beads but she wouldn’t decline his kindness.
As they wrapped up their shopping, a sudden commotion caught their attention. Drums and horns echoed through the square, and the crowd began to chant and shout, drawing her curiosity.
“What’s going on?” she asked Kaladin, who was signing for their orders to be delivered the next morning. He dropped the ink pen and looked up through the windows.
“A war procession.”
“War?”
“There’s no war, but normally the army goes for expeditions in the border forest. It looks like they’re back.”
At the front of the group was a tall man with long white hair and pristine rabbit ears, his armour shining in the city’s light. He rode on a great steed, flanked by soldiers in formation. Beside him was a younger woman, bearing a striking resemblance to him—likely his daughter. Her ears had been retracted so a helmet could fit over her head, the only evidence of her white rabbit lineage being her white lashes and the few hair strands framing her face. Her face looked unsettled, her boots laden with mud and blood, the sword at her side gleaming under the lights of the lanterns. Her father’s face was calmer, but when she looked behind them, Hadassah saw it—horses with no riders, so many, dotted between the soldiers.
“Looks like the Vortigern army had a successful campaign,” Kaladin said with a laugh. His laugh, previously mischievous, now felt like mockery.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the silver armour and the red flags of the procession. To her, it looked quite enchanting. She did not know blood red and silver worked so well together.
“He rules this city?” she asked, her voice soft as she watched them pass.
Kaladin nodded. “Yes, Lord Vortigern, and the girl is his heir. Beast cities like this rely on strength and good leadership to survive.”
‘Strength?’ She could not say confidently that a rabbit was the embodiment of strength. Yet the crowd praised them—wolves, foxes, hounds, even big cats. All praising rabbits. It looked abnormal to her. If the strongest ruled in a beast city, then why was a rabbit the strongest? Was his leadership that remarkable?
Nevertheless, a twinge of awe nibbled at her as she watched the procession disappear down the main road, the crowd murmuring excitedly in their wake.
And just as Hadassah watched the procession from the crowd, from the Vortigern tree, a girl watched the procession with an equally complicated look in her eyes.
ˋ?-?-?ˊ
Despite it being quite late when she returned to the inn, the beastmen in the entertainment building had only grown rowdier. She passed through the noisy crowd, heading straight to her room, craving nothing more than a warm bath and a soft bed. The moment she stepped foot in the courtyard, she was abruptly tackled by Rahn. He was half-dressed, his top discarded, exposing the blackened skin of his arms. The force of his embrace knocked the wind out of her, and it took a moment for her to process what had just happened.
“Rahn?” She rasped, her voice raw. He couldn’t speak, but the emotions etched into his face were clear as day—relief, worry, and anger all mingled together.
“Sorry,” she said softly, her tone calming him. “I won’t go for long next time.” A Harbinger was a great asset, but taking care of one was rather taxing.
The first thing Hadassah did in the morning was wait outside the inn for her delivery. The sky had only just begun to lighten when she stepped out into the cool morning air. Rahn followed her closely, as if making up for not being by her side for a night. They sat along the walls of the inn, watching the city slowly come to life and servants run errands. After the sun had risen, the streets quickly became busy, and a woman sold breakfast buns made from bambara nuts. She bought one for the both of them to eat, last night she made sure to collect the change from Kaladin’s purchase; she needed to find a safe enough place to exchange the shell core. She knew it was valuable—just how valuable was lost to her. She planned to see if there was somewhere anonymous she could sell it.
The order finally arrived an hour later with a servant from the market carrying several neatly tied packages. Hadassah’s excitement grew as she accepted the delivery, her hands itching to get started on her plans for the day.
“Help me carry this inside,” she instructed as she took one box, and Rahn stacked the rest of the boxes, carrying them and following her in.
Once they got back to their room, Hadassah immediately began organising the new supplies. She unpacked rolls of parchment, ink stones, brushes, and the clothes she had purchased for Rahn. He stood off to the side, watching her quietly, his head tilted with curiosity as she spread everything out.
Once everything was laid out, she got straight to work, grinding the ink stone and setting up the parchment for their lesson. There was something strangely satisfying about the process, and for the first time in days, she felt a small sense of normalcy, like the life she’d known before everything had shifted.
“Come sit,” she instructed Rahn, her tone suddenly firm. She had decided to become his strict tutor, determined to teach him the basics of reading and writing. He looked hesitant but eventually followed her orders, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her as she handed him a brush.
She laid the parchment in front of him, dipping the brush into the freshly ground ink and holding it out. “Today, we’re going to start with your name,” she said, pointing to the blank parchment. “Rahn.”
He looked at her, then the brush, and then the parchment, uncertainty flashing in his gold eyes. Slowly, he took the brush from her hand, gripping it awkwardly.
Hadassah smiled encouragingly. “I’ll show you how. Watch me.” She took another brush, dipped it in the ink, and slowly, deliberately, wrote out his name in bold strokes. The characters were clean and imposing, her hand steady from years of practice. Her father had always told her that beautiful writing required discipline; she remembered the day he had called her writing “chicken scratches.” In a fit of frustration, she had snapped her brush in half and threw a tantrum. He had laughed until she cried herself to bed, but after that, she practiced tirelessly until her writing could be considered beautiful—or, in his words, ‘passable.’
Rahn watched closely, his attention fixed on her hands rather than the brush. When she finished, she handed the brush back to him. “Now you try,” she said, her eyes expectant.
His hand was steady, but when he pressed the brush to the parchment, the strokes were uneven, the ink pooling in places where it shouldn’t have. The result was far from perfect, but it was a start.
Hadassah stared at it for a moment. “This is ugly. Try again.”
Rahn looked up from the parchment, his eyes flicking up to meet Hadassah’s sharp gaze. Her words stung, but there was no anger in them, just a bluntness that demanded improvement. Without hesitation, Rahn dipped the brush in ink again, and once more his brush graced the paper.
“Ugly.”
And again.
“Ugly.”
And again.
“Ugly.”
Over and over, he tried, and each time Hadassah’s ruthless critique followed. Her eyes were sharp and rigid, watching for the slightest mistake, unwilling to accept anything illegible or sloppy. But finally, after two hours of relentless correction, her gaze easing as she looked at the parchment bearing his name.
“Better,” she said at last.
Rahn let the brush drop instantly, his hands cramping painfully. He grit his teeth and flexed his stiff fingers, the tension in his muscles refusing to ease.
Hadassah, however, paid his discomfort no mind. She picked up the paper and examined it with pride before pinning it to the wall. Crossing her arms, she stood back, admiring the result.
“There is something you need to understand, Rahn.” Her tone was serious; sun streamed in from their windows, illuminating the low desk. “You lost to Kaladin in the grasslands, and I wasn’t satisfied with that.” She turned to face him, her eyes locking onto his. “The same way you practiced your calligraphy again and again is the same way I want you to approach combat. If you cannot learn from Kaladin, then learn from Zarek. The little time we spend here must be used wisely.”
She paused, and a smile finally broke her lips, her skin glistening in the morning sun. “I will not accept another loss from you. And you should not accept a loss from me. It’s the both of us now. Do you understand?”
Was it the sun against her face that enchanted him, or her words? He wasn’t sure.
Ever since he had opened his eyes without memories, she had been the only one to feed and clothe him, the only constant in his new existence. Her words resonated deeply in his heart—‘It’s the both of us now.’ If he trusted her, would he be a fool?
‘How do I spell your name?’
She heard him, and she smiled so beautifully he wondered if all humans were as beautiful as her.
