Captain Cassian sat in the cold chamber, the echo of his confrontation with Valen still ringing in his ears. He rubbed his temples. "My lord," he began, voice strained. "I must inquire about the necessity of these extreme measures."
Aldric stared through him.
He continued. "Should the truth get out that our men were responsible for the death of that catfolk, Calamor undoubtedly risks another riot."
Lord Aldric's eyes finally focused on him as he leaned back. "A purge is inevitable, Captain. You forget, this is a means to an end. The fishmonger who can't feed his family thanks to thieving claws—those are the ones we do this for. The 'productive' citizens who want a clean walk to the market. The citizens of Elysia who come to our city from distant villages."
Cassian squeezed his eyes shut. "It won't just be the beasts this time." He took a defensive step forward. "Turning our blades against any of our citizens, even in the name of continued security, would see us stripped bare and swinging from the city gates."
A smug smile played on Aldric's lips as he steepled his fingers. "You are a wonderful captain, but no tactician, Cassian. The uprising was a setback that allowed us to identify the true threats. Now, their leaders are bent to my will, as loyal as any dog to its master. They bring us their own criminals, we dispose of them and increase the city's funding all the while."
Cassian's jaw clenched. "And those who refuse to be leashed?"
Aldric's smile widened as he feigned a sigh. "Listen well. The very essence of the beastfolk is bound to my will. I've ensured that. Any beastfolk who has set foot in that village is of no danger to us."
A chill ran down Cassian's spine. He remembered the village. He remembered the strange, rhythmic nodding of the Chief—the way the entire tribe had sighed in unison, like a single lung breathing for a hundred bodies.
Aldric continued. "If you fear your own to this extent, start by relocating the vagabonds. Forcefully, if needed."
He stepped back, his hand moving to his sword. "They are people, Aldric."
Aldric paced slowly, the amethyst on his desk pulsing with a faint violet light. "You forget who holds your reins. I only need to tell your men you are in league with Valen, and your body will decorate the main square. The two decades of peace Calamor has enjoyed were funded by my hand." His smile turned predatory. "Find yourself on the right side of history. The public doesn't want 'solutions'; they want the threats gone. I am simply the one with the stomach to do it. If they are out of sight, they are out of the public's mind."
Cassian's blood boiled, but he knew a direct threat. He nodded stiffly. "As you command, my lord." He turned on his heel and exited, his thoughts racing.
He walked with his head hung low, thinking of the people forced into the shadows by the system he served—the homeless, the destitute, the sex workers. They were not nameless burdens; they were human, each with a story. The false belief that some chose this life never sat right with him, but now he saw the alternative: a "peace" where choice was stripped away by a politician.
***
Back at the Crescent Moon, Luna paced. Valen and Mona were gone, but where?
A memory surfaced: Mona speaking fondly of Grinter, of a place Valen had taken her, a safe nook for those like her. It was the only logical choice.
Her mind seized on it. He's taking her away. He's taking everything. She had to save Mona, to pull her back from the human who was marching her straight to her death. She grabbed parchment and quill, her hand trembling. She scrawled away, sealing the note with a dollop of wax and her thumbprint. She slid it under Fioré's door, then scurried away into the morning sun.
***
Cassian approached the Crescent Moon as the midday hours crept in. He stopped the first girl he saw. "I need to speak with Fioré. Immediately. Ensure no one interrupts." He didn't wait for a reply, striding through the corridor to her office and pushing the door open.
The room was silent. His eyes scanned the area and found a piece of parchment on the floor. As he bent to pick it up, Fioré entered from behind.
Her eyes narrowed at the note in his hand. Silent and swift, she plucked it from his grip. "What is the meaning of this? You have no right to invade my privacy, Cassian." She folded her arms.
Cassian stammered, unable to answer.
Before he could produce the words, her composure cracked. The anger she'd been stifling finally boiled over. "Don't think I've forgotten the blood on your hands, Captain. Bloodshed was not part of our arrangement. I gave you Valen. You were supposed to bring him in and keep us safe, not get a girl killed!"
Cassian flinched. He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "It was never meant to happen," he whispered. "The ambush... it got out of control. It was chaos. One of my men—he panicked after Valen and his shadow fought back. He slit the girl's throat before I could even give an order." He looked away, the memory still vivid. "It was a brutal, stupid accident. But Aldric saw an opportunity. He's twisting my failure into his propaganda."
Fioré stared at him, her chest heaving. The clarification did little to soothe her. If anything, the sheer pointless waste of it made her angrier. "An accident?" She stepped forward, jabbing his chest plate with a nail. "Her name was Millie. She was Luna's sister. Your 'accident' has broken one of my girls and given a tyrant his martyr." She threw the note onto her desk. "So, what fresh horror have you brought to my door now?"
"I suspect Aldric is using an external force to control the beastfolk leaders. Their will is not their own."
The implication cut through her anger, grounding her once again. Her mind raced, flying back to Luna. She still believes Valen did this. I have to tell her. But I haven't seen her for…
The note on her desk.
She unfolded it. She recognized the writing as Luna's. All that waited were three, trembling sentences.
'They've gone to Grinter. I'll stop him there, Fioré. For all of us.'
Without another word to Cassian, she snatched a cloak. "We will discuss your failures later," she said, her voice clipped. "I have to stop her." She dashed out, leaving him alone in the office.
***
Valen kept his pace steady. His right arm throbbed. "Stay close," he muttered.
The inn sat waiting in the distance. He cut through an alley—a shortcut, and a safety net. Or so he'd thought.
A shadow detached itself from the brickwork at the alley's mouth, blocking the exit. Valen's hand was on the hilt of his whip before he'd identified the threat. He stepped in front of Mona. The crystalline core began to hum, sensing the adrenaline.
He expected one bold enough to claim the bounty, or Cassian's dogs. Not a girl with charcoal fur and vacant eyes.
"Luna."
The knife in her hand caught the weak moonlight. It shook. "You," she hissed, leveling the steel at his chest. "What did you do to Millie?"
Valen tensed, beginning to raise his left hand.
"DON'T MOVE!" Luna shrieked, clutching the knife with both hands. She took a wobbly step forward.
Valen glanced at Mona from the corner of his eye. "Mona, what's wrong with her?"
"Valen…" Mona's ears flattened. She moved to his side. "The catfolk at the docks. She thinks—"
"Luna, wait!" Valen raised his palms. "Cassian's men killed her. You have to trust me."
The words meant nothing. With a guttural cry, she lunged.
Valen sidestepped, his hand shooting out to catch her wrist. The blade sliced through his sleeve, biting deep into the meat of his arm. He groaned but didn't let go. "Luna, please. We're on the same side."
"Liar!" She ripped her arm free, the knife slashing back and finding his side. She stepped away, sobbing. "You didn't have to get involved," she whispered, voice hoarse. "You brought this on us." Her gaze shifted to Mona. "I won't let you hurt her, too."
Mona watched the blood trickle out. She leaped forward, claws extending. "Luna, stop! Listen to us!"
The knife lowered an inch. "Mona... how can you defend him?"
"Because I know you're hurting," Mona whispered, taking a step closer. "I know you want someone to blame. But we're all fighting for the same thing." Her voice broke. "I love you, Luna. Please."
The plea only fueled Luna's despair. She launched herself at Valen again.
The blade sank into his side with a sickening, wet crunch.
Mona screamed, but Valen didn't lash out. He didn't reach for the whip.
He just… accepted it.
A gasp, a stagger, his hand clutching the wound as his eyes screwed shut. He slumped against the wall.
When he opened his eyes, they found Luna's. He tried to speak, but the words never formed.
Mona lunged for her, ready to tear her away from the man letting himself be carved apart. Valen reached out a blood-slicked hand and caught her wrist. His grip was weak, but the command held.
"Mona, no," he sputtered out. He pulled her back, putting himself between the two catfolk again. Fresh blood flowed through his fingers.
"But she's—!"
"It's my fault." The words were quiet, but they silenced the alley. He looked at Luna, but the lesson was for Mona. "Luna and Fio… they were right. I'm a lightning rod." He took a shuddering breath. "And now it's hurting you. Through her."
Mona saw it then—the fighter was gone, replaced by a martyr. Something in her broke. With a fierce growl, she shoved Luna back. "Luna, you're killing him!"
Luna staggered. The knife clattered against the cobblestones, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. She stared at Mona, then blinked. "Mona?"
The sight of the blood finally registered. Her rage dissolved into horror. "I didn't want to..."
She knew was lying to herself.
Fioré arrived at the scene. Rounding the corner, she saw the ruin. "Child, no!" She threw her arms around Luna, pulling her into a tight embrace. "What have you done?"
Mona's mind cleared into a single command: Survive. She gritted her teeth, taking Valen's weight onto her shoulder. "We need a healer."
She started moving, her tail straight and low. Valen's blood soaked into her sunflower dress. "Hold on. Just hold on."
Luna pushed against Fioré. "Mona!"
She took two steps and crumbled to her knees.
"I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to!" She looked at her shaking, empty hands. "Fioré, I didn't know what else to do."
Fioré held her tight. "Luna, he's not the one to blame. We've all been blinded." She looked toward the street where Mona had vanished. "And the only one who truly lost everything is you."
She stroked the girl's fur. "You lost your sister. Your innocence. And I've lost you in the middle of it all. For that, I'm sorry."
***
Mona spotted the crimson glow of a healer's sign and burst through the door. "Please," she panted, "help him."
An aging elf priest took one look and ushered them in. Mona laid Valen on the wooden table, her tail lashing. "I'll pay anything, just save him."
The healer motioned to the cuts. "Open it."
Mona took a claw and sliced away the surrounding cloth.
The healer went still. Leaning in, he scanned the wounds over. He tapped at the smaller cut, and an ethereal spark jumped between them. "The wound is deep, and his life force is faint. There's an impurity within that will complicate matters. I cannot promise it will be quick, or easy. " He chanted in a low tongue, his hands glowing bright green. The priest pressed his palms to the deepest gash.
When the life-thread touched Valen's mana-soaked blood, violet static shot from the wound. Valen's spine arched, his body slamming against the wood.
"Hold him!" the priest yelled.
Mona threw her weight over Valen's chest, claws digging into the table's underside.
The blood pooling on the boards rippled, then began to crawl backward, as if sucked into the opening. The flesh followed. The edges of the wound slammed together in a frantic collision.
Muscle shifted, then settled unevenly beneath the surface. The skin twisted and fused. The grey tendrils beneath turned a scorched, charcoal black.
The priest fell back. He wheezed. "It's closed. But I didn't heal him. I just helped his curse swallow the damage. He'll still need time to recover the lost blood."
Valen slumped.
Mona touched the seam on his side. It was hot, the skin pulled tight and wrong over his ribs.
"Valen?"
Nothing.
Fioré and Luna arrived, disheveled and panting. Luna's eyes found Valen on the table, twisted and stitched like a patchwork doll. She hovered near the doorway. "Mona," she stammered, her voice small, her tail tucked tight under her legs. "Is he...?"
Mona's eyes flicked up. The sight of Luna caused her to tense. She looked back at Valen. "He'll make it." Her gaze did not deviate again.
A long, heavy silence filled the room. Luna seemed to shrink. Finally, she whispered, the words faltering, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I didn't know what I was doing."
"We all make mistakes, Luna," she began, each word measured and careful. But that wasn't just a mistake. It was a choice. You chose to see a monster. Not the man who... who protects me." Her voice hitched. "You chose your... your vengeance over my safety."
Luna flinched, fresh tears welling. "I was trying to protect y—"
Mona's face snapped back to Luna's. "From what? From the only person who ever gave me a home? Your hurt made you blind. And it almost took him from me."
She looked back at Valen, her tail tightening around his wrist. "I love you, Luna. You're my friend. My first friend." She took a breath, gathering her thoughts. "But right now, I need you to understand what you almost broke."
Luna didn't offer another hollow apology. She stepped forward, her hand shaking as she reached for Mona's shoulder. It was a plea for a connection that no longer felt earned.
A beat passed. Mona didn't flinch, but she didn't lean in, either. She reached up and caught Luna's hand, her grip firm, almost bruising. She didn't let go, but she didn't pull her closer.
Luna looked at their joined hands, her charcoal fur matted with the same dust and blood that stained Mona's yellow dress. "I see it," Luna whispered, her voice finally steady. "I see what's left. And I'll carry the weight of what I did until the day I join Millie. If you never look at me the same... I understand."
This wasn't forgiveness, but a line drawn in the sand. A painful, necessary ledger of the damage. But in Mona's words, in her struggle to articulate the betrayal she felt, there was a fragile bridge that they could someday cross to rebuild what had been shattered.