The sun had set in Berilinsk about an hour ago and the sound of jungle insects trilling gently settled in the background ambiance. The subtle scent of smoke, food, and alcohol hung over the town as quiet mourning had begun for the five souls who had brightened the town until a couple days ago.

  Elias stood in the guesthouse of the CIPHER girl Tamiyo, assessing how the day's events had transpired and deciding what was the best course of action. Both for himself, and for all of those around him.

  Soren sat on one of the oversized couches, his weight sinking into the lacravida-built frame. Even at seven and a half feet tall, he didn’t look out of place. But he did look lost.

  Tamiyo was seated quietly in a recliner much too large for her, hands neatly folded in her lap. She looked a bit lost in thought herself. Raine was cross-legged on the floor next to her, idly scrolling through something on a tablet. She hadn’t said much since they got back.

  “Interesting…” Elias said aloud.

  Soren looked up at the sound of his voice, then looked at the translator tablet he kept needing to use in order to understand everyone. “What’s that?”

  “I think I figured out why you’re so heavy.”

  “Oh really?” He looked amused at the sentiment, despite being stressed from all that had occurred.

  “Yeah,” Elias said. “This is just a hypothesis, but… I think the Aether Dust that infused your cells, I think it’s making you more dense.” He turned to look at Tamiyo. “What would you estimate a…” he hesitated for a second, not wanting to offend Soren.

  He waited too long because the translator caught up and Soren said, “A normal human? You can say it—I’m not that fragile.”

  Elias made a small awkward chuckle. “Yes, sorry. Tamiyo, what would you estimate a normal human with Soren’s height and build would weigh?”

  “Hm,” she said in thought. Her antennae twitched a little. “I’d say roughly 450 pounds, give or take.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right to me,” Elias said. He turned back to Soren. “Rinara gave me all of the recorded data that was collected before the equipment was destroyed.” He didn’t leave time to let the conversation become awkward on that topic, he just kept speaking like it was another data point. “According to their scan, you’re actually clocking in just above 750 pounds.”

  A look of mild shock appeared on Soren’s face. It looked like he was deciding how to process and handle what he was being told along with everything else that had happened. After a moment, he looked at Tamiyo. “Hey, you said you’re designed for like—personal care, right?”

  She perked up a little but looked like she couldn’t tell why he was asking. Elias couldn’t either.

  “Yes,” Tamiyo said. “My original purpose was to assist with end of life care. I helped my ward get around his house, prepared his meals, things like that. Why do you ask?”

  Soren looked contemplative for a moment, then said in a dry tone. “Switch me to diet Aether Dust from now on.”

  There was a pause, suspended like the room itself had stopped to decide whether it was allowed to breathe again.

  Then Tamiyo let out a short, startled exhale. Elias gave a soft snort and shook his head with a groan. The laughter came quietly at first, just a brittle edge from stress with nowhere left to go. Soren gave a low chuckle that caught in his throat, and then they were all laughing in their own exhausted ways. Not because the joke was that funny, but because it had to be. Because the alternative was screaming or breaking something, and this felt better.

  Tamiyo and Raine’s giggles were light and airy, Soren’s laughter loud and booming, and Elias somewhere in between. It faded slowly, and by the time they finished, Elias felt a couple tears in his eyes. No one said anything for a little bit after, but the air felt a little easier to sit in.

  A soft knock came at the door and they all glanced towards it.

  Elias frowned a little, looking toward it. I wonder who that could be. He walked over, answered it, and his heart skipped a beat. “Riza!”

  She was out of her armor but still covered herself more than most lacravida. She was just shy of a foot taller than Elias, but he never felt like she looked down on him.

  “You sound surprised to see me,” she said in a flat tone.

  “No, I…” he stumbled a bit.

  Elias heard a tablet clatter to the floor and turned to see Raine already moving towards them. She snarled, “Bitch, you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here after the shit you pulled in that lab.”

  Tamiyo caught her by the wrist.

  Raine looked back. “Let me go!”

  “Raine…” Tamiyo tried pleading.

  There was a small hiss of air followed by a mechanical click and the purple-haired CIPHER’s arm popped off. She advanced on the door and slipped around Elias with surprising agility when he tried to block her path.

  She swung an open handed slap with her remaining hand aimed right at Riza’s face.

  Riza blocked it with her left hand without even shifting her posture, then grabbed Raine’s wrist and held her there.

  For a moment, no one breathed, especially Elias. He probably knew Riza better than anyone in the village, and he knew firsthand that the things people whispered about her were not exaggerations. She was probably the deadliest lacravida alive—if not in all of history.

  Riza’s eyes flicked to Elias with the barest hint of a smile. “I like this one.” She gently used the girl’s wrist as leverage to lock her elbow out and pushed her back into the house, releasing her.

  Raine glared up at her, baring her teeth like an angry wolf. “I don’t care who you are. You don’t hurt people and then show up acting like it’s fine.”

  “I didn’t say it was fine,” Riza said. “I came to apologize. May I come in?”

  Raine looked at Tamiyo who gently nodded. Then Raine backed down and growled, “Fine,” before walking back to stand near Tamiyo.

  Riza stepped inside and her eyes quickly surveyed the room. She was always aware of her surroundings.

  Elias closed the door and walked over to Riza’s right side. “How’s your wrist?”

  Riza held up her right hand and glanced at it before dropping it back down and simply stating, “I’m fine.”

  “Can I check it out closer while we talk?”

  She looked at him again and her eyes lingered longer than they normally did. He felt his heart flutter again. Without responding, she raised her hand up to where he could inspect it.

  Turning to Tamiyo, she said, “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier. It wasn’t personal, I was under orders.”

  Tamiyo didn’t respond right away. Her antennae twitched faintly as she processed what Riza had to say.

  “Volkara was invoked,” Riza added. “I know you probably don’t know what that means to us, but it’s… not a normal command. It overrides everything, it’s something only used in the gravest of circumstances.” She made a vague gesture, indicating the space around her. “Like your planet falling into the sun.” She looked at Soren. “Or figuring out what caused it.”

  Elias turned her wrist slowly in his hands, fingertips pressing just enough to assess the damage. Swelling, discoloration, classic signs of joint strain, trauma, and ligament stress. No fractures or tearing, but definitely painful, even if she wouldn’t show it.

  “Still,” Riza said after a beat, “you didn’t deserve that. So… I am sorry.”

  The apology wasn’t flowery, but it was sincere. Tamiyo held her gaze for a moment, then nodded again slowly. She was still holding Raine’s detached arm and held it up to give it back. Raine took it and grumbled under her breath as she reattached it.

  Elias felt the tension in the room drop half a notch.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Riza turned to leave. “Just wanted to say it while it still mattered.” She opened the door.

  “You’ll need to ice this,” Elias told her as her hand gently slid from his grip. “And take it easy for a few days until it heals.”

  She looked at him the way she always did. Focused with something quiet behind the eyes. But it was also softer and less cold than anyone else she looked at. Every time, it made it harder for him to breathe in the best way possible.

  She nodded once and slipped out into the dark, her hooves never making a sound.

  The door closed and Elias stood there for a moment, then turned back to the others. Tamiyo sat down again and Raine leaned on the arm wrest of Tamiyo’s chair. Soren leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “She meant that,” Soren noted.

  “She did,” Elias confirmed. “And I don’t know if I can stress how rare it is for her to apologize for something carried out in the line of duty.”

  A tired silence hung between all of them.

  “Well,” Elias said after a beat, rubbing the back of his neck, “I should let you all rest. It’s been a hell of a day. We can talk more tomorrow and figure out where you want to go from here.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Tamiyo said.

  Soren echoed the sentiment with a nod. “And… thanks for standing by us. Don't forget to look after yourself while you're checking on everyone.”

  “Thanks buddy,” Elias said with a quiet smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Good to see you're still human under all that power.” He looked at Raine last, who just gazed back with no change in expression. He nodded to her, then stepped out into the night, letting the door close behind him.

  The path between the guest quarters and the district where Elias lived was dim, lit only by the occasional lantern swaying in the humid night air. Elias walked alone, footsteps soft on the packed soil. He didn't take the most direct path home, he wanted to take in the air a bit and clear his head before he turned in for the night and washed off the road. He had hoped to catch up with Riza after she took her leave, but she had a way of melting into the darkness.

  They'd served together in the Liberty Union military for years and he'd patched her up more times than he could count. They had an unspoken trust but had never become more than friends, even though he could describe every scar on her body from memory.

  For a half-second, his mind flashed back to years ago, right after he’d put in his discharge paperwork. A fellow medic, some loudmouth that had never tried to be very accepting of non-humans, had elbowed him in the mess and said, “So what now, Elias? You off to live in a jungle harem with those busty warrior women? Sounds like paradise!”

  He hadn’t even dignified it with a response.

  It’s not like that, he thought now. But he wouldn’t have understood.

  Riza was the one who invited him here in the first place. They’d never been anything more than what they were, whatever that was, even all these years later. But after that last mission together, when they’d raised absolute hell together after she appeared to pull him out of an undercover mission, things had never been the same. He felt her absence when she wasn’t near, and her presence always filled his senses to overflow. When she asked him to move here with her, even though it was just as friends, he hadn’t thought twice.

  He passed a side alley near the outskirts of the market district. A place he knew Riza sometimes visited though she never talked about it. A cracked stone bowl sat beneath a sagging overhang tucked between two crates. It was filled with scraps of roasted fish and root slices, still warm. A pair of thin, scrappy kittens darted away at the sound of his approach.

  Elias crouched down next to the bowl. She’d been here not long ago. He exhaled slowly. He wasn’t disappointed he’d missed her, just holding out like always. She always seemed to need space, and maybe he was a fool for holding on. But if she ever reached out, he wanted to be there when she did. Loving her quietly still felt better than completely letting her go.

  He stood and continued home.

  Elias walked in his front door and found half the house was still askew. He had spent all day yesterday helping with the wounded at the triage center and came back late to crash and rise early for the trip to Altina. The couch wasn’t quite where it belonged, the chairs either—some of them had fallen over. His bookcase near the hearth was knocked down, the books scattered, and a few cracked tiles flaked off the interior wall where one of the support beams had shifted.

  He let out a sigh of resignation. The place wasn’t ruined, but it didn’t feel like home at the moment either. Still, he was aching to jump in the shower. As he moved toward the bathroom, he stripped down piece by piece, letting the clothes fall where they dropped. He turned the shower on and leaned his forehead against the wall, waiting for the heat.

  As he stepped in, the water hit him like a memory he didn’t want, too warm to ignore. Elias stood motionless beneath the stream, arms braced against the wall, letting the day bleed out of him in steam. His thoughts wouldn’t stop pacing. Aurania’s fury. Soren’s apology. Riza’s voice. He scrubbed his hands roughly through his hair and exhaled hard, like he could drown it all in heat and pressure. But the tension didn’t leave, it just sank deeper, down where his hands couldn’t reach.

  Eventually, the numbness outweighed the warmth.

  He turned the water off and stepped out. The towel was rough against his skin and the quiet in the house felt heavier than usual. The space wasn’t lavish, but it was warm and well-kept. Curved clay walls held the day’s fading heat, and the scent of dried herbs lingered faintly in the rafters. A wide table sat at the center of the main room surrounded by several chairs that fit himself and several more built for lacravida frames. One of their blankets was still draped over the couch, left behind from a night that felt further away than it was. The house was comfortable and familiar, but tonight it felt too still, too quiet, and too messy.

  Then came the knock.

  It was soft and hesitant. Not how Riza would knock, if she ever did one day. He paused, a part of him still hoping.

  Another knock—light but insistent. Elias wrapped the towel around his waist and answered.

  He cracked the door a couple inches to see Amalia in a short white dress that swayed with the wind. The fabric hung loosely off her shoulders, cinched at the bodice, flowing around her hips and barely brushing the tops of her thighs. She looked every bit like a lacravida woman unbothered by the expectations of modesty. Comfortable, effortless, and slightly provocative without trying too hard. But her expression was soft and concerned.

  “Hey,” she said with a small smile. “You decent?”

  He waited a moment.

  They’d done this dance before, but never quite like this. Not after the kind of day they'd just had. “Since when has me being decent ever stopped you from coming in and making yourself comfortable?” He stepped aside and she slipped in without missing a beat, easily half a head taller than him. She moved with that relaxed confidence lacravida always seemed to carry. Her eyes skimmed the disorder of the room.

  “You haven’t picked up yet,” she said gently.

  “Haven’t had a chance yet,” he shrugged.

  Amalia walked toward the hearth, her hooves softly clicking against the stone floor. She eyed the stovetop kettle tucked into the corner and said, “Alright then. I’ll make us some tea. You sit. Or finish drying off. I’ll help tidy while it boils.”

  He hesitated. Part of him wanted to stop her. She wasn’t his partner. She didn’t live here. But she’d been here so many times that she moved around like she owned the place, scooping up the toppled books and brushing away broken ceramic. And deep down, he knew this wasn’t about chores. This was her way of stepping into his space and making room for a conversation.

  She bent to pick up several of the scattered books and the neckline of her dress shifted just enough to make it obvious. Then she turned her back to him and reached down to lift the bookcase upright, but she didn’t even try to bend her knees. The short fabric drew taut across her thighs and hips before pulling high enough to reveal everything.

  His eyes were drawn like magnets, just like she intended.

  “Okay,” he said, tone somewhere between amused and serious. “I know what you’re doing.”

  Amalia straightened slowly and turned to face him, feigning innocence just enough to make it clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

  “We should probably talk this out first,” he added.

  Her face lit up with her usual bubbly personality. “I’ll get the tea!”

  They poured, sat, and sipped. A few quiet minutes passed in comfortable silence.

  But Amalia wasn’t here for just tea. But not just the other thing, either. She was a friend.

  “That order really shook you, huh?” she asked gently.

  Elias didn’t answer right away. He traced a finger along the rim of his mug, his eyes lowered. “It wasn’t just a command,” he said eventually. “A line was crossed.”

  Amalia nodded slowly, watching him. “I don’t blame you. For being upset with us. I just want you to know…” She put her hand out, stopping just short of touching his in comfort. She was one of the most emotionally intelligent people he’d ever met; she wouldn’t force comfort onto him, just offer him the chance to choose if he wanted it. “We were all pretty upset with Aura too. We brought it up to her as soon as we got back to town.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, you all walked away right before it happened. Violet actually refused when she was ordered to keep an eye on the three of you.”

  “Really?” See Raine? They’re good people. He moved his hand forward and touched hers. “What happened after that?”

  Amalia smiled. “A bit of arguing, but Aura ended up apologizing.”

  They sat and sipped their tea for a few moments.

  “I’ve never even heard that word before,” Elias said.

  “Volkara?”

  He chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, I wasn’t even sure I could say it out loud just now. The way you all reacted, I almost thought it was like a psychological brainwashing trigger or something.”

  Amalia smiled faintly, swirling the last of her tea in the mug. “It’s not brainwashing. But you’re not that far off either.”

  Elias raised an eyebrow. “So what is it then? A command? A vow?”

  She looked at him for a long moment, then glanced off to the side, her expression thoughtful. “It’s… kind of hard to describe. It’s more than a command. We’re trained to respect it from the time we’re old enough to hold a weapon. But it goes deeper than training.”

  She shifted in her seat, searching for the right words. “It’s ancestral. It’s woven into us. It’s about trust, duty, legacy. When someone invokes Volkara, it means the decision is bigger than you. It’s bigger than pride, or hesitation, or personal judgment. It means the weight of generations is behind the order.”

  Elias tilted his head. “So it’s like… sacred authority?”

  Amalia nodded. “Close. It was drilled into us on Lacravi by Warmaiden Hinakané. It’s not divine, exactly, but... sacred in a cultural sense. Not just anyone can use it. Only someone like Aurania or Samara, whose bloodline carries centuries of leadership, whose oaths are recognized not just by tradition, but by spirit.”

  She glanced back at him. “I can’t invoke it. Violet can’t. Even Riza wouldn’t be able to, no matter how big her legend is.”

  Elias’s eyes dropped at the mention of her name.

  Amalia noticed—of course she did. “The way you yelled in the lab,” she said softly. “I could tell how scared you were for her. I was too—I’m glad she’s okay.”

  “Me too,” he said quietly.

  Among the lacravida, jealousy wasn’t really a thing. Not in the way humans thought about it. Monogamy existed, sure, but it wasn’t expected. Relationships were fluid, bonds casual until made deep, and even then, rarely exclusive. Everyone was their own person. You didn’t own the ones you loved. You just showed up when it mattered.

  Amalia was one of the few people who knew how he felt about Riza. As their friendship grew, she had casually offered companionship and his human naivete had made him tell her outright before they’d ever spent a night together. He hadn’t wanted to lie by omission. He hadn’t wanted her to wonder.

  But she had just smiled with understanding and offered him the kind of intimacy her people gave freely when it was needed: comfort rooted in friendship, not obligation. It still threw him sometimes, but over time, the dynamic felt less strange. And here she was again, sitting with him, sipping tea, offering warmth in the quiet aftermath. Not because she thought it meant anything more. Just because she cared.

  He met her eyes and offered a tired smile. What he had with Amalia wasn’t about pretending or forgetting. It was about not dealing with hard times all by yourself.

  “So did you get your place cleaned up yet?” Elias asked casually.

  “Nope, haven’t had a chance either.”

  “So you went home, threw on a dress, didn’t clean your own place, and then came over just to give me shit about mine?”

  “Well yeah,” she replied, perfectly innocently. “Every time we’ve almost died together, you’ve needed to immediately bury your face in my chest.”

  Elias squinted. “I think you might be confused. Today was the first time you and I have ever almost died together.”

  She stood without a word, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, and reached for the tie at her bodice. The knot slipped loose and the dress fell to the floor. She looked down at him with flirtation, lust, and not a single trace of apology.

  “The night’s still young.”