It was two months later before Vivian Vortigern finally joined the training. The day she walked in, all eyes landed on her. She took her place along the last row of men. Silent, dressed in plain leathers with her black hair tied up, she kept her gaze forward, avoiding everyone’s stares.

  Kaladin didn’t seem to care about her arrival, but Hadassah caught the look in Verena’s eyes—pure, unattenuated disdain. No one spoke to Vivian, no one even glanced her way. After all, she was a half-caste.

  During the break, Hadassah’s attention lingered on Vivian, watching her intently like a hawk unwilling to look away. Neveah noticed and, without warning, spoke up. “Don’t think about it.”

  Hadassah jumped slightly at the sudden statement, snapping her gaze away and turning in her seat. Neveah sat across from her, leafy shade dappling her face, making her green eyes appear brighter. She closed the book in her hands and placed it on the small round table between them.

  “Think about what?” Hadassah asked, feigning ignorance.

  “I know you do not care for this, but Kaladin cares enough about you for me to speak out now. Do not speak to her in public.”

  ‘In public,’ Hadassah noted. ‘So I can speak to her privately?’

  Satisfied that Hadassah wasn’t going to argue, Neveah relaxed. At least she wasn’t being reckless. Talking to Vivian in public would make Hadassah a thorn in Verena’s side. Neveah would be fine due to her status, but Hadassah would surely pay the price in the next sparring session.

  Hadassah heeded Neveah’s advice, keeping her mind on her drills and that afternoon’s aerial archery. The Wyre explosion had finally almost healed with great care not to consistently injure it, but it still had a ways to go. So, in comparison to the others, her aim with a bow and arrow was simply awful. She could only sigh and end the day with as much accuracy as she could muster.

  After practice, Hadassah was about to drag Rahn home but was stopped at the gate. Verena and her brother seemed to be waiting for her. Seeing her, Verena’s face lit up. For two months, she had struggled to catch Hadassah on time before she left.

  Today, there was no escape.

  “Hey, we’re going to grab some food in the city; you should come along.” It wasn’t a question, but Hadassah was still inclined to decline. However, someone came up behind her.

  “Are you guys going for dinner? I’ll join you.” It was Zarek. The usual antisocial air that hung around him seemed less today. Verena’s smile widened in delight.

  “Yes, of course!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Hadassah’s eye twitched, but just as she was about to decline, she felt a wave of emotion flood her mind. She winced and snapped her head to the side to glare at Rahn. He seemed unconcerned, but his entire being radiated ‘food.’ Hadassah sighed. She hadn’t let him eat excessively since there was no point, and now the idea of a restaurant and special food made him practically salivate.

  “Let me change; It’s hot today. Where should I meet you guys?” she asked. Zarek glanced at her, pleasantly surprised she actually agreed to go out.

  “Don’t worry, I need to change too. We can go together,” he offered. And though she didn’t have it in her to entertain the two siblings, she sighed and agreed.

  The three—Hadassah, Rahn, and Zarek—returned to the inn and, an hour later, left to roam the city.

  The city was quite large, but only the area by the Vortigern tree was considered high-end. Since they were all wealthy, it didn’t surprise Hadassah that they had picked the most expensive place to eat. A restaurant with four stories and specially ‘nourishing’ meals. She could only sigh and ready Kaladin’s token; there was no point pretending to have shells when she had a shell tree right there.

  Rahn did not need to eat, but when he ate, it was quite a lot. She mourned Kaladin’s wallet—he would definitely find a large sum missing from his tab after today.

  They found a table and sat down. The atmosphere was awkward, and for a few minutes, no one spoke. Hadassah glanced around, trying to think of a way to break the ice.

  “So, uh… Verena, you’re really strong,” Hadassah immediately regretted her words after she spoke. Stating the obvious when she didn’t know what to say was still a bad habit.

  Zarek snickered at her failed attempt to socialise.

  Despite them being older, they were in similar life stages, so this could be considered talking to her peers—something she had never had to do before. Verena looked at her, amused. “Since I could walk,” she replied. “Strength is necessary, especially as the heir.”

  Valentino leaned back in his chair, smirking. “She’s being modest. She’s a prodigy. She’s followed father on expeditions since she was ten years old.”

  Valentino was quite pleasant to talk to, and also quite pretty, sharing the same white-hair phenotype of the Vortigern family.

  Hadassah remembered Verena’s strength with a sword—Zarek had complimented her skill so many times it had to mean something. “She’s honestly terrifying to fight sometimes. Her eyes are like a predator’s. If you hid your ears, I would think you were a tiger.”

  Verena laughed, her voice melodic in Hadassah’s ears. “You’re not bad either. You’ve managed to catch Zarek off guard more times than I have.”

  “That’s because she keeps blowing things up,” Zarek muttered. How was it his fault? He had never fought someone who used explosive beads on a regular basis.

  It was Hadassah’s turn to laugh, her face feeling warm. She thought herself a bug, but if she could shake a mountain like Zarek even just a little, she was satisfied.

  Their food arrived, and they started to eat. Rahn, whose eyes lit up at the sight of meat, turned to check if Hadassah was as excited as he was, only to see her staring at her food absent-mindedly. He reached out to hold her hand, careful not to hurt her with his claws. She often took his hand when she wanted, but seeing it done to her seemed to shock her out of her trance. He took it like a cat with a frail owner. If he protected her, it wouldn’t matter too much if she was weak, as long as she kept feeding him and taking care of him.

  Hadassah’s lips twitched into a small smile. She removed her hand from his and began to eat, and the corners of his lips tugged downwards, looking at his now-empty hand. He knew what she was feeling—bitterness. But at what? He was unable to tell; her thoughts were too murky to discern.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?” Valentino pointed his next question at Rahn.

  Rahn shook his head as he focused on stuffing his mouth.

  “Leave him alone; it’s better not to talk than to talk excessively,” Verena retorted, much to her brother’s annoyance. “Besides, the silent type are notoriously advanced in the bedroom.” Her eyes narrowed at Rahn who seemed not to understand her words.

  “Hadassah, between the both of us, who talks the most?” He turned to Hadassah, catching her mid-bite. She dropped her cutlery and looked at them. If she didn’t know better, she would think they were twins; they looked so alike it was alarming.

  “Honestly, Verena, you speak more than Valentino. I haven’t heard him speak much. But when I first heard him speak, he sounded like a parrot.”

  Zarek spat out his drink in shock at her words, bursting into laughter and slamming a controlled fist on the table so as not to break it.

  “A parrot!” he hollered, pointing at Valentino, whose face was bright red. “That describes him perfectly! Only talking after Verena talks! A white parrot, hahahah!”

  Verena found her brother’s facial expression amusing, satisfaction clear in her eyes.

  “What? Tired of talking? Want me to do all the talking?” she taunted.

  “I did not come here to be ganged up on,” he responded venomously, but without real anger.

  “Then you should be careful what you ask for. I like to speak without inhibition,” Hadassah said with a shrug.

  Valentino smirked. “Really? Then I’d love to hear you talk some more. You’ve been so isolated these past few months; it’s quite a shame I couldn’t hear your pretty voice more.”

  The table fell silent, and suddenly, all eyes were on Hadassah. She felt a surge of heat rise from her heart to her neck, and all the way to her ears. ‘What?’

  She tried to regain her composure, but before she could, Verena called out her reaction.

  “How cute is that? One compliment, and she’s rendered speechless.”

  Hadassah felt an intense need to hide her face, and in response, Rahn raised his arm, the blackened skin blocking her face from view.

  “The both of you! I will kill you during the next spar!” she shouted. Unfortunately, her voice betrayed her, coming out in such a high pitch that it was obvious she was flustered to high heavens. Hadassah was ready to die right then and there.

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  The siblings laughed, but Zarek found himself feeling quite unpleasant watching the interaction.

  Hadassah grabbed a goblet of nectar, trying to calm herself.

  “Ah, it’s a shame. If I wasn’t waiting for my engagement, I would have eaten you whole,” Verena said casually as she filled her cup. Heirs of great families could not take a concubine before an official mate, so Verena was forced to wait for her father to settle the issue of her marriage.

  Hadassah finally recovered her composure. “No, thank you. I am perfectly fine not being eaten. Do I look like tofu?”

  “No, you’re not. Tofu is softer,” Valentino said seriously, lightening the atmosphere. “Oh, Zarek, I heard from Kaladin—the final assessment is going to be quite special.” Valentino readjusted his seating position. “He said we’d be fighting an artefact. I was hoping you’d give us more details.”

  Hadassah’s ears perked at the mention of artefacts. She listened keenly for Zarek’s reply.

  “Oh, that? It’s one of your father’s pets. You should have seen it before.”

  Valentino’s face paled for a second. “That’s what we’re meant to fight?” He asked cautiously. “That’s absurd!”

  His reaction stretched Hadassah’s curiosity to the max. She wanted to know what artefact Lord Vortigern had in his possession that could scare Valentino.

  Zarek shrugged. “If you can’t beat it, it’ll be too dangerous to take you on the expedition. You know what Veres is like. This is the third expedition—if you guys fail this time, the Dragon Queen will descend personally from Nephel, so it’s imperative that all who go are competent.”

  The Vortigerns were taking the approach of quality over quantity. Veres was a city that devoured beastmen—there was no coming back if you weren’t careful. Lord Vortigern wouldn’t throw the lives of his people away for nothing, so naturally, the final test would be difficult.

  “What artefact?” Hadassah finally asked.

  “You’ve heard of it before. You might not have seen it, but he’s using a Siren.”

  Hadassah’s eyes widened. Sirens were a collective term used to describe artefacts without consciousness. They were like Harbingers, but without loyalty or the ability to think for themselves—soulless weapons. Similar to the stone giant, but that was considered harmless compared to a true siren.

  “How does he have something like that?” Hadassah asked, her voice shaking. Sirens were creatures that would kill you before you even realised you were in danger. Something like that… How was she meant to beat it?

  Zarek looked at her, noticing her fear. He hadn’t considered, before now, how a weaker person might react to fighting a machine created to destroy. His brows softened. He wanted to reassure her but stopped himself, reminding himself of the time and place. He turned back to the group, speaking generally.

  “You’ll all be fine. You will not die.” His voice was firm.

  He addressed the group, but in his heart, he was speaking to the weakest link. She would not die.

  As they finished their meal, Verena stood up. “We should get back. I need to sleep on time—I can’t afford to let Kaladin see me with bags under my eyes.”

  “Ugh, I don’t want to,” Hadassah whined. She had drunk a bit of nectar and was probably not the most sober person there. Compared to the others, she hadn’t had much nectar before. She leaned against Rahn sleepily.

  “If you can’t hold alcohol, you shouldn’t have drunk any,” Zarek said, exasperated. How could she be so careless? He stood up, attempting to help her, but before he could, Rahn hoisted her onto his back as if he’d done this a million times before.

  The group split up, the siblings returning home and the rest making their way back to the inn.

  “Next time, don’t drink anything. How can you already not walk?” Zarek asked in disbelief.

  “Hush. I like nectar. My father never let me have any,” she whined.

  This was the first time he had heard her mention her father, so naturally, he asked, “You never talk about your father. Why is that?”

  He expected a half-drunk mumble but was met with only a pause.

  “He’s already gone. There is no point talking about it.” Her words sounded calloused.

  “I suppose, I don’t like to talk about my mother either.”

  “Psst!”

  Rahn stopped suddenly as he turned to his left, down a dark alley. A small figure called out from the shadows.

  “What’s wrong?” Zarek asked, stopping as well. He turned to see where Rahn was facing, only to see a small girl come out, clutching a set of books to her chest, nearly tripping.

  “Older sister!” she called, using the respectful term. Zarek raised a brow and turned to Hadassah, whose eyes seemed murky, as if she didn’t recognise the child.

  He stared at the girl once more—tattered rags for clothes, and no clear sign of race. She looked like a half-caste. He frowned unconsciously, stiffening as he prepared to chase her away.

  But before he could, Hadassah’s face lit up as recognition dawned on her.

  “You’re the little girl!” The girl she had bought books from. Upon hearing that the older woman recognised her, the child beamed, scuttling towards them, her hesitation falling away with each step.

  “I’m glad I found you!”

  Rahn let Hadassah slide down from his back, and she squatted to meet the child at eye level. The girl’s big brown eyes were filled with excitement. Hadassah was beginning to think the masks that everyone wore in the underground market was just to set the mood.

  “When I went home, my father said I needed to find you and thank you! He said I should also give you these!” She handed over the heavy books she had been carrying in her little arms.

  Hadassah took the books, her smile stretching in gratitude. She raised her hand and sloppily patted the girl’s head. “Thank you so much. You did so well.”

  The girl flushed in delight. “I’m glad I could help! I was afraid I would inconvenience you by coming here.”

  Hadassah’s heart melted. “No, you did good. What’s your name? You didn’t tell me last time.”

  The girl squeezed her hands together nervously. “It’s Esther.”

  Zarek’s frown deepened. A half-caste with an Emerian name? His eyes filled with contempt, looking at her as though she were something dirty.

  Hadassah’s hand paused, and then she gently cupped the girl’s face. “You have a beautiful name, Esther.”

  Zarek’s lips pursed as he looked at Hadassah like she was crazy.

  The girl’s face reddened, her smile brightening the alley. “I have delivered these, so I will return home now!”

  “Wait a second!” Hadassah stopped her before she could run away and looked up at Zarek, who quickly neutralised his expression. “Can you please walk her home? It’s not safe. She’s just a child.”

  Zarek hesitated but nodded slowly. If he took the quieter streets, no one would see him with the half-caste.

  Hadassah smiled in appreciation before turning back to Esther. “Thank you very much, Esther. Send my well wishes to your father.”

  Esther nodded eagerly, waving goodbye before following Zarek.

  Zarek was tall—well above six feet—and no matter how slowly he walked, the child couldn’t keep up. He noticed her jogging to follow him and found himself stopping, waiting for her to catch up. As much as he didn’t want to be seen with a half-caste, part of him realised it would be more efficient to just carry her.

  “Come here,” he said after a moment, kneeling down and gesturing for her to hop onto his back. Esther hesitated before clambering onto him, wrapping her small arms around his neck. He stood up with ease, barely feeling her weight as they continued through the dark alleyways.

  Esther didn’t say much, but she was obviously delighted to be carried. She walked with bare feet like those of lower class but without the hard skin other beasts had.

  Zarek continued walking through the quiet streets, Esther clinging tightly to his back. He still felt uncomfortable—this wasn’t something he did. Carrying a half-caste child, let alone interacting with her, made his skin crawl. Humans were weak, selfish, and destructive. And yet, here he was, carrying a half-human girl through the city streets.

  Despite his inner turmoil, he found himself glancing back at her now and again. She was surprisingly quiet, her small face resting against his shoulder, her breathing light, and even. For a moment, he was struck by how fragile she seemed, even compared to Hadassah. She wasn’t a fighter; she was just a child. Zarek had never had siblings, nor did he often interact with children, but something about the way she trusted him to carry her home, despite the fact that she barely knew him, made him want to scold her.

  “You really should be careful, you know,” he finally said, unable to bite his tongue. “You shouldn’t just follow strangers around.”

  “But she’s not a stranger; I met her before!” She insisted.

  “Where was that?” Zarek asked; he had not asked Hadassah how he knew the child, partly because he felt it was not in his place to ask.

  “She met me in the night market, and she bought all my mother’s books. I managed to get a healer for my father, and he said I needed to thank her well.”

  Zarek lapsed back into silence; if there was one word he could use to describe Hadassah it would not be ‘kind’. Buying useless books seemed quite uncharacteristic of her.

  “Oh no!” The child suddenly screamed.

  “What! What is it!?” Zarek asked, throwing her over his shoulders until he was carrying her in front of him, checking her for injuries.

  “I forgot to ask for her name!”

  Zarek stared at her like she had said something ridiculous, but her eyes looked so grieved he did not have it in him to reprimand her. He sighed deeply, “her name is Hadassah.”

  “Ha..da…ssah!” She repeated making sure to pronounce it right, and a small smile tugged on the corners of Zarek’s lips.

  As they neared the slums, the buildings became smaller and more dilapidated. The roads turned uneven, littered with debris. Zarek’s frown deepened as they walked deeper into the poorer areas of the city. He had never been here before, and he hadn’t expected Esther’s home to be in such a state.

  They reached a small, run-down shack on the edge of the slums. The door was barely hanging on its hinges, and the walls looked as though they could collapse at any moment. Zarek gawked with mild disbelief.

  This is where she lived?

  Esther slipped down from his back and hurried to the door, pushing it open with a creak. “Father! I’m home!”

  Zarek stood outside, feeling out of place, watching as the girl ran inside. A weak cough echoed from within the shack, and a thin, frail voice responded. “Esther… You’re back…”

  The door remained open, and Zarek could see inside. Esther rushed to her father’s side. He was lying on a small, worn-out bed, his face pale and gaunt, but his eyes lit up when he saw his daughter. He had a large black serpentine tail that trailed off the bed to the floor, gleaming in the soft candlelight. Despite the poor conditions, despite his sickness, there was a warmth in his eyes as he looked at her.

  ‘What a beautiful name.’

  He did not understand what was so beautiful about such a name, and neither did he understand why he felt so strange watching them.

  With a soft exhale, Zarek turned away from the door and began the long walk back.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  The weight of Hadassah felt like nothing to Rahn as he carried her, her breathing quiet. He would have thought she was asleep if not for her occasional mumbling.

  “How lucky, I can make another artefact~” she hummed dreamily. Rahn carried some books under his arm, with more in her hands as they walked back.

  ‘How do you spell Esther?’ Rahn asked after a bit, unfamiliar with the name or unsure if he had encountered it before.

  Hadassah smiled softly, speaking the alphabets to him. Rahn’s brows furrowed in concentration, and as he listened a look of confusion flashed across his face, but he didn’t question her words.

  “You know,” Hadassah murmured sleepily, “I’m really glad I have you, Rahn. I would be terribly lonely without you, but at least now it’s the both of us. At least now I can face this world with a little more courage.” There was something comforting about having someone who could never betray you by your side. It gave her strength.

  ‘Why?’ Rahn asked, confused. Why would having someone else give you courage? Wasn’t courage something born from within, from strength?

  “Because life is hard to live alone. I don’t think I could have done it.” Her words were honest; she had no reason to ever lie to him, because he could not judge her.

  ‘I am the reason you live?’ Rahn’s question was simple, but the weight behind it slipped past a drunk Hadassah.

  She laughed softly at his words, “I guess you could say that.” Her head rested more comfortably against his back as she snuggled into the warmth of his body, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I’m happy you are here by my side.” To her, Harbingers were the best things humans had ever created—someone who could understand her, share her pain, never disobey, and never abandon her. The thought filled her with an odd sense of contentment. Something like that was simply marvellous.

  “You know, it’s ironic that we’re surrounded by rabbits.” She mumbled some more. “When I was little, I had a pet rabbit, but my father hated him. I really wonder what his expression would be if he saw me surrounded by rabbits.”

  It wasn’t very funny, but her inhibition made her giggle a little and then a lot, as if she had discovered something funny enough to reduce her to tears.