Tamiyo stepped out onto the front porch of the house she and Raine had been assigned. It was late morning, and the sun had already begun to warm the cobbled streets of Berilinsk. After spending the entire previous day under house arrest, it was a relief to finally breathe fresh air again. The house itself was cozy, despite clearly being built for someone twice their size. The ceilings stretched high, the doorways were over eight feet tall and five feet wide, and every seat seemed designed to swallow them. The walls were made from a smooth, clay-like composite, and the interior remained quiet and insulated even as the village stirred to life outside.

  Tamiyo had spent a good chunk of the first day cycling through a digital archive on the table console; histories of Nox, cultural overviews of Berilinsk, even grainy footage of ancient rituals. She read compulsively, as if hidden answers might be buried between the lines of text. Raine had kept mostly to the window at first, perched on the oversized sill with her arms folded over her knees, watching people pass by on the street.

  They didn’t talk much that first morning, but after they had prepared lunch from the stocked kitchen, they sat next to one another eating and scrolling through the digital archive together. The two girls found themselves fascinated by the culture of the towering warrior matriarchs.

  In the Conservatory, women were expected to be beautiful, be useful, and be quiet. Strength was allowed only if it looked pretty or helped sell a product. Real power made people uncomfortable. But here, it wasn’t just accepted, it was revered. These women didn’t shrink themselves. They moved like they belonged to the world, like their bodies weren’t something to be managed or explained, but simply were.

  “Does it say how old they generally live?” Tamiyo asked mid-bite.

  “Hmm,” Raine said as she thumbed the screen. “Looks like the oldest recorded lacravida died at age 156. It says it’s much more common for them to die around age 100-120, usually in combat.”

  “In combat?”

  “Yeah. Either in battle or something called a Virelai Kethra. It’s like… a ritualized death. When an elder decides it’s time, they pick someone to face them in an honor duel.”

  Tamiyo stared, brows raised, until Raine met her eyes with the same expression. “These women are intense,” she said, more awed than judgmental.

  Raine grinned and looked back at the screen. “I kinda like it. They don’t even do marriage like the Conservatory—no contracts or lifelong expectations. They’re just… open. About sex. About everything.”

  Tamiyo hesitated. “I guess that’s why they don’t wear much clothing…”

  Raine flinched. “Oh shit, sorry—didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Tamiyo said. Her voice had gone quiet, but not tight. “Honestly? There’s something… grounding about being around women like this. Can you imagine someone trying to do to one of them what—” She stopped herself, not wanting to speak it aloud.

  Raine was quiet for a moment, then let out a small huff of laughter. “That’s probably the quickest way anyone could choose to die.”

  After that they spent the remainder of the day like found sisters sharing a sleepover. Raine made tea and Tamiyo shared a pillow that was too large for one person. They took turns guessing the uses of the bizarre kitchen implements in the cabinets and silently critiqued the oversized furniture. By evening, Raine had shoved all the living room furniture together and draped a massive lacravida blanket across the improvised jumbo bed. Raine fell asleep with a pillow tucked under one arm and Tamiyo curled up next to her before dozing off.

  Today, with no new developments, their confinement had been relaxed. They were allowed to walk the village freely under the condition that they didn’t try to leave.

  The people of Berilinsk didn’t quite ignore them, but few approached. Eyes followed them, some curious, others cautious, a few tinged with loss. The two walked slowly through the market rows and side paths, letting the village unfold around them at its own pace. Raine occasionally pointed out something she’d seen in the archive the day before, nudging Tamiyo with an elbow or tilting her head toward a mural or stall that matched the tablet’s recordings. Tamiyo mainly stayed quiet, soaking in the sounds and smells and strange sense of reverence that clung to everything here.

  At midday, they stopped at a food stall shaded beneath flowering vines. A tall lazarco man with white markings across his hide offered them roasted grain flatbread topped with something bright and pickled alongside skewers of sweet-cured meat and chilled cups of pale green fruit water. They ate on a bench carved from some broad-limbed tree, Raine half-perched on the armrest because the seat was built for giants. The sun rose past its peak as they watched the village move.

  “It’s so different from the Conservatory,” Tamiyo noted. “So much less technology, so much more culture and art.”

  Raine kicked her legs where she sat. “The lack of technology is why I like Nox. We’re so far away from Conservatory space that it’s like a trip back in time. No one here has implanted bio-monitors or cybernetic upgrades, nothing running on multiple layers of computer code if you don’t count us.”

  “Does the Liberty Union not have advanced technology?” Tamiyo asked.

  “Uh, I think they do,” Raine answered casually. “But Nox is independent, this whole star system is. I think there’s some political dealings to possibly change that, but as it sits…”

  As if to punctuate their conversation, a large, powerful lacravida strode past, pulling a cart behind her made of stained wood and reinforced metal brackets. Everything here was self-reliant and free, but also incredibly dependent on each person within the community. The lazarco hadn’t even asked them to pay for the food, it was just handed out to anyone that was hungry.

  Later they wandered again, ducking into an artisan hall where older d’moria were mending tools and gear—each piece carved or painted with intricate, handmade designs. After that they found a textile dome where half a dozen lacravida were self-expressing milk, causing Tamiyo to almost duck away in embarrassment. But Raine whispered to her to wait a moment, and they observed as the women mixed ingredients together in some form of mourning ritual where thick, fragrant smoke filled the air. Tamiyo realized the lacravida weren’t ashamed or embarrassed—everything about motherhood was beautiful and sacred here. No one asked them to leave, but conversations rarely paused.

  They were allowed to exist in Berilinsk, but not included.

  As evening deepened and the sky melted to amber and purple, Berilinsk came quietly alive. Wind chimes tinkled in the distance. Somewhere, someone played a slow, pulsing drumbeat—less performance, more improv or practice. Raine and Tamiyo passed communal gathering spaces with low voices and glowing lanterns. One group passed an ornate carved pipe around. Another shared a platter of roasted vegetables, glazed meats, herb-brushed breads, and glistening berries. Tamiyo slowed, watching, but Raine gently touched her back and guided her on.

  They passed a tall stone planter where a cluster of lacravida and d’moria shared drinks. Raine was the one who noticed first—a red-haired woman sitting among them. She was the first female d’moria Tamiyo had ever seen, and she noted the strength in her shoulders, the leather-bound braids, the freckles. There was something grounding about her—she looked nothing like the towering matriarchs, but even short and stout, her strength and confidence was enamoring. Their eyes met for a moment, and the woman's eyes sharpened. It wasn’t a hostile look, but it wasn’t welcoming either. It lingered just a heartbeat longer than a polite glance before she shifted her focus back to her companions without a word.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Raine stepped aside as a child darted past, hooves clacking on the stone. “It’s like they’re all built out of myths.”

  Tamiyo couldn’t have phrased it any better.

  As the sun dipped lower, the atmosphere shifted, both softer and heavier. They began to loop back toward the house, taking a quieter route and avoiding the lively center. They followed shaded side streets until the sounds of conversation thinned.

  Then they rounded a corner and slowed.

  There, standing before a towering, gold-framed mirror nested between spiraling columns, was a lacravida woman that Tamiyo recognized. It was Violet, one of Aurania’s warriors. She had been present at the meeting with Chieftess Samara and then escorted them to the assigned house. She hadn’t said much during the escort, maybe she hadn’t been allowed to, but now it looked like she was relaxing.

  Tamiyo initially tried to not disturb her but the warrior noticed them almost immediately.

  “Sorry,” Tamiyo said nervously. “We weren’t trying to sneak up on you.” She glanced down, then back up at Violet’s calm reflection. “We were just walking and... this place kind of catches you off guard. It’s beautiful. Didn’t expect to see anyone else out here.”

  Violet looked nothing like the armored soldier Tamiyo remembered from before. The lamplight and sunset mingled around her in amber ribbons, catching in her twin ponytails and highlighting the sleek musculature of her arms and shoulders. She wore a white top that hugged her large chest paired with a red sash draped around her waist.

  “You didn’t sneak,” her reflection shifted as she turned. “Just moved quieter than most. No hooves on stone to give you away.”

  Tamiyo hadn’t realized how tense she’d been at the village excluding them until that flicker of dry humor reached her. It wasn’t an embrace, but it wasn’t a wall either.

  “I saw you both out wandering earlier,” Violet said, studying them closely. “What do you think of us so far?”

  Tamiyo glanced at Raine, who gave a subtle nod. “It’s… beautiful. Strange, too. Not in a bad way. Just different from anywhere I’ve been.”

  A brief silence passed.

  “We’ve been trying to be respectful,” Tamiyo said, softer. “But it’s hard not to feel like intruders.”

  Violet nodded once. “Maybe being here will help. It’s easier to breathe out in this grove. It’s meant for meditation and reflection.” She looked out across the trees for a moment, then back to Tamiyo. “I needed to clear my head. It’s scary to think what all this crazy weather might mean with that black hole being gone.” She turned and studied both of them for a moment, then said, “You two can stay, if you want. I’m not on duty.”

  Tamiyo blinked, caught off guard by the hint of friendliness after hours of suspicion and guarded silence. She stepped a little closer and said, “Thanks. Your name’s Violet, right?”

  A small smile appeared and she nodded. “You’re Tamiyo, and… Raine, right?” Violet pointed to each of them in turn.

  “Yeah,” Raine nodded. “I’ve been living over in Owangara the last few years. This is my first time seeing Berilinsk up close, though.”

  “I thought you looked a little familiar,” Violet said.

  “I sometimes work at Soozy’s so if you’ve ever been in there, maybe that’s where you saw me. There’s a couple lacravida that are regulars in there.”

  “Do you know Hilara?” Violet asked casually.

  “Oh yeah!” Raine said. She turned to Tamiyo, “Hilara was a couple tables away from you and Inelius when we met the other night, the one with the long black hair?”

  Tamiyo thought back for a moment, then said, “Yeah I remember, she was actually the first lacravida I’d ever seen, she’s beautiful.”

  “You and Hilara are friends?” Raine asked.

  “Not super close, but yeah,” Violet said. “She’s one of Samara’s daughters.”

  “No kidding,” Raine leaned against one of the stone columns, tilting her head. “Hey, do you mind if I ask a question I’ve never had a chance to ask a lacravida?”

  Tamiyo’s eyes quickly darted to Raine, remembering how Inelius had told her to stay respectful. But Raine had been around them far longer than Tamiyo, so she stayed quiet.

  After contemplating the question for a moment, Violet said, “I suppose that’s alright.”

  “Where are all the lacravida men?” Raine asked. “We’ve wandered all over this village today and I haven’t seen a single one.”

  Violet’s ear twitched, but then she let out a little laugh. “There are no lacravida men.”

  Tamiyo and Raine looked at each other, both confused.

  “How is that…” Tamiyo started. “Sorry,” she shrunk a little, suddenly not wanting to say it.

  “It’s alright,” Violet said.

  “I was just wondering,” Tamiyo began again, “how is that biologically possible? I admit my knowledge is mainly limited to human biology from the Conservatory, but… do you reproduce asexually?”

  Violet laughed louder this time. “Gods no, quite the opposite. All lacravida are female but we can reproduce with almost any other race.”

  Tamiyo felt herself blush.

  “Wow,” Raine said in awe. “So… is the baby always lacravida?”

  Violet frowned in thought, her eyes darting away for a moment. “No, probably like… 60% of the time? Somewhere in there.”

  “That’s amazing,” Raine said. Then she saw Tamiyo’s face and tried to keep the conversation moving. “This place is so different from the Conservatory.”

  “How much different?” Violet asked in a surprisingly innocent tone.

  “Have you never had to deal with them?” Raine asked.

  Violet shook her head. “Amalia and I have only been off our home world of Lacravi for a few years. We were told that the Conservatory is extremely dangerous and to stay away from them, but not a lot of other details.”

  Tamiyo hesitated, eyes lingering on the worn patterns in the stone underfoot. “Then I envy you.”

  Violet recoiled, clearly not expecting that. “Why?”

  Tamiyo didn’t look up right away. “Because you were raised in a place where women don’t have to belong to someone else. Where you’re allowed to have strength and power, and exist as something more than an object for someone else’s amusement.” She felt her chest grow tight.

  Raine shifted beside her. “Tamiyo, are you alright?”

  “Part of me feels like I just wasn’t strong enough,” Tamiyo continued, ignoring the question. “That if I’d been braver, smarter, less… compliant, I could’ve stopped what happened. But seeing you—” she glanced at Violet finally, “you move like the world makes room for you. Like it wouldn’t dare take anything you didn’t offer.”

  Violet’s expression softened, the amusement gone from her face. “Bodily autonomy is one of the most sacred things to lacravida, it’s something we’re taught about very young.” She took a couple steps toward Tamiyo. “I’m not sure what happened to you, but I can tell it was wrong.”

  A couple tears ran down her face, and the words escaped her before she thought twice about them. “For the last six years… I was sold to men. Rented. To be used however they wished.” Her voice was hollow.

  Violet’s face contorted, fury building behind her eyes. “That’s disgusting. You didn’t deserve that, no one does. If you ever see the one responsible, tell me and I will make them suffer.”

  Tamiyo blinked away some tears, surprised by the protective rage of someone she barely knew.

  “They’re already dead,” she said quietly. “I made sure of that.”

  A long silence stretched between them.

  Violet didn’t question it. Didn’t ask how, or when, or if she was sure. Instead, she just said, “Good,” like a judge banging a gaffle.

  Then her eyes flicked to Raine. “You. You act as this girl’s shield, no? As her safe harbor through the pain?”

  Tamiyo hadn’t even realized it, but as Violet said it, it all made sense. The way Raine had stuck to her like glue since they met, the way she always walked between Tamiyo and Inelius, even though she trusted him. She did it all to make sure Tamiyo didn’t feel uncomfortable.

  Raine looked unsure how to answer at first, but then she nodded. “I just… didn’t want her to be alone.”

  “That matters,” Violet said simply. “More than you probably realize.”

  Tamiyo shuffled uncomfortably where she stood, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

  Violet stepped a little closer. “You’re not broken, Tamiyo. Just hurt. That’s not the same thing. There’s not a single warrior in this village who hasn’t been hurt before.”

  Tamiyo’s throat tightened again, but she nodded.

  “And when it doesn’t hurt anymore,” Violet added, “maybe you’ll be the one keeping someone else standing, shielding them from whatever they need to endure.”

  Tamiyo looked at Raine, then back at Violet, but didn’t answer right away. Her thoughts drifted to the man she had found in space. Somewhere deep inside, she felt a sliver of healing begin, and in a quiet, hopeful tone, she said:

  “I’d like that.”