Zerus’ hand settled on Enya’s shoulder—not like Celeste’s grip, all righteous force and condescension. No, this was different. Firm, yes, but careful. Controlled, like someone cradling glassware during a storm.

  An artifact appeared in Zerus’ free hand, too small for Enya to see clearly. With a sharp movement, she curled her fingers and crushed it within her palm.

  The world around them blinked.

  Nausea hit Enya hard, an unwelcome but familiar sensation.

  Teleportation.

  She remembered this queasy feeling from returning from the guild’s dungeon. Going there was smooth, but coming back, had twisted her stomach into knots.

  The new location emerged slowly as Enya's eyes fluttered open, dizziness still blurring her vision. It didn't seem too intense, certainly nothing she'd need to—

  Nope. Two hands slapped around her mouth. She tore away from Zerus and stumbled toward the nearest tree, heaving. A symphony of sparkles, rainbows, and sick hit the roots.

  She misjudged exactly how noxious she was from the teleport.

  Zerus meanwhile, didn’t move. She just stood there, eyes locked on Enya as she emptied her rainbow-colored guts.

  A few minutes later, Enya sat cross-legged in the grass, head low, dignity slightly bruised. They had wandered to a pond nearby—long enough for her to rinse her mouth and splash cold water on her face—then returned to a clearing that looked just different enough to feel disorienting.

  The trees here were thinner, fewer. The forest less dense. Different from where they had been before. Not wildly different, but enough to confuse her.

  Why bring her here? Why teleport just to sit and wait? Was this a pickup point? Was she about to be handed off? Or was it something else?

  The question hung in the air until Enya broke the silence. “Are we waiting for someone?”

  “I cannot move for long,” Zerus said without looking at her. “Too much, too quickly—this body wasn’t meant to carry me far. Your body too—it can't handle teleports too quickly.”

  Enya was stunned she even answered.

  Why tell her that? Why speak at all?

  They were supposed to be enemies—kidnapper and captive. But something about Zerus didn’t fit into that mold. The way she moved. The weight in her voice. There was something behind it. Something that didn’t quite match the role she was playing. The way she acted, the way she talked; there was something deeper behind it all.

  “We’ll mostly teleport,” Zerus said softly. “Until we reach a hidden outpost with a prepared warp circle. From there, it will take us to my… my master.”

  The hesitation in her voice felt strange. She spoke as if her master was taboo—something feared, kept at arm’s length.

  Still, at least the woman didn't seem outright hostile. As long as Enya didn’t attempt anything resembling escape, she would probably be fine.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked carefully. “Why did you take me?”

  Zerus sat across from her, settling onto the grassy dirt. Her hood remained drawn, features shadowed. One leg stretched out, the other bent with her hand resting lightly atop her knee. She lingered in silence, a dangerous enigma—threatening, yes, but intriguing too.

  “I must obey orders,” Zerus finally replied.

  “Why?”

  Questions seemed safe enough. If Zerus couldn’t or wouldn’t answer, she just remained silent. At the very least, Enya could gain some understanding of her captor.

  “I am a slave. I must obey all orders.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she forced my body to.”

  She. So Zerus’s master was a woman?

  “What do you mean?” Enya asked. She knew what slaves were—at least vaguely, from Pell’s novels. Usually, they served a master because of poverty or coercion, threats, debts, or desperation. But “forced her body” sounded… strange.

  Another long pause settled between them. Perhaps harder questions needed careful answers, carefully woven replies to avoid breaking orders or giving too much away.

  “She tampered with my body,” Zerus eventually answered. “I told you already—I’m an experiment. My body no longer belongs to me. I’m just a doll. A puppet under my master’s control.”

  Zerus shifted slightly, turning toward Enya, her eyes faintly visible beneath her hood. With deliberate movements, she pulled aside her cloak and the worn clothing underneath, revealing her bare chest.

  Where smooth skin should’ve been, twisted flesh now formed around a glass chamber—a box embedded within her torso, visible beneath her skin. Black chains wrapped tightly around a beating heart encased inside. Dark, sinister runes and sigils sprawled across her flesh, etched deeply into her body, marking even the rhythmically pulsing heart itself.

  Enya couldn’t tear her eyes away from Zerus’ mangled body. Though her knowledge of demons was sparse, she felt certain none were born looking this way. Zerus quickly covered herself again, her movements small, almost ashamed.

  “Whatever she did to me,” Zerus whispered, “I can't disobey her orders. A… curse was placed upon my body. If she disapproves of my actions, then...” Her voice trailed away, caught in a hesitant, fearful silence.

  She trembled faintly, the memory—or perhaps the mere thought—enough to disturb her.

  “My master is far away right now,” she continued softly, eyes cast aside. “Her influence isn’t as strong here. That’s why I’m even able to speak. Otherwise, I’d be silent—a mindless creature, existing only to carry out her whims.”

  Enya swallowed, sensing the depth of Zerus’ torment. Her captor's openness felt wrong, misplaced somehow, yet she found herself desperate to understand.

  “Why…why would someone do this?” Enya asked carefully. “Who is she? Why you?”

  Zerus remained quiet at first, gaze distant, almost lost. But slowly, something inside her seemed to break—just enough for words to slip through the cracks.

  “My master is human. A scholarly inventor from your realm,” she explained bitterly. “She bought me after I was captured. Humans attacked my home on the Third Layer. I fought to protect my people… my family. But I was defeated, captured, and sold off.”

  Enya felt her heart twist uncomfortably. She knew little of the Third Layer, only that it was home to demons—creatures she'd read about mostly as villains or monsters in Pell's books. Zerus didn't seem monstrous, though. She seemed hurt, broken.

  “What did she want with you?” Enya whispered, cautious but unable to hide her curiosity.

  “Experiments,” Zerus murmured. Her voice shook with raw pain, bitter and heavy. “Excruciating, never-ending experiments. Torture beyond imagination. She reshaped my body, fused unnatural parts into me… She said I was special, that demons like me made perfect tools.”

  Silence fell, thick and oppressive, yet Enya needed to ask one last question. “Do you… ever think about escaping? About going back?”

  A small, heartbreaking laugh escaped Zerus, dry and humorless. “Every single day. Freedom is all I dream about. Seeing my family again. But… even if I did, would they recognize me anymore?” Her voice cracked slightly, a vulnerability that made Enya ache inside.

  An hour had passed since their conversation began, and in that short span, Enya learned more than she ever expected about her captor. Zerus sat quietly, staring at the ground. Enya couldn't help but feel pity—and confusion. Zerus was supposed to be the enemy, the kidnapper. Yet now, she seemed more prisoner than captor herself.

  “Does your family know you're still alive?” Enya asked quietly, breaking the long silence.

  “I doubt it,” Zerus replied softly. “It's been so long… I'm nothing but a ghost to them now. Perhaps that's for the best. I'm not longer recognizable like this. As a monster.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Enya hesitated, then said gently, “If you ever did escape, maybe they’d still accept you. No matter what you look like.”

  Zerus glanced at her, startled by the child’s innocent sincerity. “Maybe. But would you welcome home a monster?”

  “Yes. I have a friend that is a monster. His name is Pell,” Enya replied plainly.

  Zerus stayed silent.

  Enya frowned thoughtfully, then answered honestly, “If they loved you before, wouldn't they love you still?”

  Zerus said nothing more, but Enya noticed a subtle softening in the demon’s guarded eyes—a fleeting spark of something close to hope.

  “What about you, then? If you were taken from your family and returned a monster, unrecognizable even to them… Would they still see you as who you once were? Could they still love you?”

  “I—” Enya's voice faltered almost immediately, her fingertips trembling in the grass. She stared downward, searching for answers she wasn't sure existed.

  Would my family even recognize me? Did they ever truly love me at all?

  “I don’t know,” Enya finally whispered, her voice fragile as glass. “I’m not even sure my family loved me to begin with.”

  Zerus turned slightly, her shadowed eyes lingering on Enya, listening silently.

  “I woke up somewhere abandoned—a dungeon, alone. Pell and Mr. Bones were the only ones there, trapped inside for years. Months passed, and nobody else ever came for me. I don’t think I was kidnapped or lost. It felt more like… someone had simply left me behind. I don’t remember much else about myself, though.”

  A raven settled atop a branch nearby, its dark gaze fixed on them, letting out a low, mournful caw.

  “Pell told me that I have a chance to find my family. To reach out to them, but…” She hesitated, her voice thinning as her words fell away. “I’m scared. I’m afraid of discovering that they never wanted me at all. Because if they did—why haven’t they come looking yet? Everyone keeps telling me I’m special, that I matter. But if I do, shouldn’t someone have come for me by now? You... you were sent after me, but I don't think my family sent you... right? You... you aren't here to... save me.”

  She drew a shaky breath before continuing. “Maybe I’ve read too many books. There was one Pell had, a story about a princess abandoned because she wasn’t truly royal—born from someone… lesser. A concubine, I think. Born not from the king’s wife. She was cast aside because someone else, her sibling, true-blood, was better, more important. She was unwanted. And sometimes… sometimes I think that’s me.”

  Zerus watched Enya closely. “Why would you think that? Because of a story?”

  Enya shrugged helplessly. “Pell said things like that were common among royalty. He said unwanted children aren’t given the same care. They’re hidden away, discarded.”

  Zerus exhaled slowly, thoughtful. “It's not unheard of. Even demons have royal lines. Those considered mistakes often suffer neglect. Outright abandonment seems extreme, but… certainly not impossible.”

  Enya’s heart sank deeper. Even Zerus, whose life was so vastly different, couldn’t deny that the stories she’d read held some truth. Pell’s books were her only source of information about the world, some filled with wild fantasies, others unsettlingly realistic. But the more she compared those tales to her own reality, the more plausible her fears felt.

  If a High-Noble held enough power to erase a city like Talo with just a word, why hadn’t anyone come looking for her? Wouldn’t news have spread quickly if someone important had disappeared? If she’d been kidnapped, someone would’ve noticed by now. Pell had told her the dungeon had been empty for years, devoid of living souls—apart from her sudden appearance.

  Even Zerus’s master had resources enough to hunt Enya down. Why, then, had her own family not bothered?

  A noble’s death by poison or violence would draw suspicion; heavy scrutiny among the family, she realized bitterly. But a quiet disappearance? Simple, discreet. A convenient way to erase someone unwanted from the family’s story, swept away under the rug without a second thought.

  It was no secret that Zerus’ master wanted to harm her. Someone was out to kill her, not save her. Just another reason for Enya to lose hope.

  Enya closed her eyes, heart aching with uncertainty. “I don’t even know if I want to learn the truth,” she admitted quietly. “Right now, I have Pell and the friends I've made here. Even if my fears are wrong, even if they’ve been searching for me—I’m afraid of losing what I already have.”

  Zerus, silent and understanding, offered no judgment. She merely nodded, the gesture small yet somehow comforting.

  “Sometimes,” Zerus murmured gently, “the truth is more painful than ignorance. But it’s always there, waiting, whether we’re ready or not.”

  Enya said nothing more, letting the quiet linger. The raven flapped its wings and rose into the sky, leaving them beneath the heavy, thoughtful silence.

  “Get up,” Zerus said quietly, rising from the grass. “We need to keep moving.”

  Enya obeyed without protest. Zerus might be her captor, but something deeper bound them now—a shared feeling of helplessness, chained by circumstances they couldn't control. Both of them waiting, yearning for something that might never come.

  Another crystal appeared in Zerus’ palm, glittering faintly. But as she moved to crush it, a deep, resonant thrum shook the forest. Trees cracked and splintered, birds scattered into the sky, screeching in alarm.

  Enya spun around just in time to see a blazing projectile streaking toward them, tearing through the trees. Zerus reacted instantly, turning sharply, crushing the crystal in her fist. Reality rippled around them as teleportation began, but not fast enough. The flaming missile—a spear or arrow made entirely of searing energy—pierced straight through Zerus' shoulder. Her pained gasp echoed in Enya’s ears, swallowed by a flash of blinding light.

  They both vanished from the forest before Enya could even cry out.

  The fiery attack continued and streaked onward, burying itself deep into the soil beyond, sizzling in silence as smoke rose from the deep but small crater it left behind.

  High above the scene, the same raven from earlier hovered silently, its black eyes coldly assessing the empty clearing. Satisfied, it flapped its wings once, drifting back into shadow before disappearing entirely.

  Moments later, the bird reappeared, settling calmly onto a man's shoulder.

  “Well?” growled Nakrin impatiently, landing heavily beside Josier, draconic wings folding neatly against his back. “Did I hit them?”

  The raven cawed twice, softly.

  “Yes and no,” Josier replied thoughtfully, gently stroking the raven's feathers. “You landed a blow, but it wasn't fatal. She’s probably still alive, though it was hard to tell. The teleport happened the instant you struck her.”

  The caravan surged forward at maximum speed, bicorns galloping in a relentless rhythm. Josier glanced ahead thoughtfully. “Lorrin’s hunch was correct—they’re using teleportation crystals to stay ahead of us. Now that she knows we’re following them; they’ll be cautious. But you did manage probably to wound her. That might slow their pace, perhaps limit their ability to fight. If we keep pressing forward, we’ll catch up soon before they can escape again.”

  “But…” Risha interrupted nervously, leaning forward. “If they know we’re here now, won't they just teleport away again? We’ll never catch them like that.”

  Nakrin gave a dismissive grunt, shaking his head. “Teleportation artifacts aren’t all-powerful. They have cooldown periods because frequent teleportation tears at your body. They just warped; if they teleport again too soon, the strain might as well shred their bodies into pieces. That’s why some people get violently ill from teleportation. Everybody’s resistance to warping has their limits. Even I wouldn’t be able to handle two teleports in 15 minutes.”

  “Damn it,” Pell cursed bitterly. “We were so damn close.” He eyed Josier and the unsettling raven perched atop his shoulder. “So, was the kid hurt at all? What exactly did you see?”

  The raven cawed softly, its dark eyes glinting.

  Josier stroked the bird’s feathers absently. “It seems she was unharmed. She was sitting calmly, talking with the demon.”

  Talking? Pell thought incredulously, shaking his head in frustration. “That kid really has no sense of danger at all,” he muttered. “Leave her alone long enough, and she'd probably try befriending the demon king himself.”

  Berry leaned forward anxiously. “How long until we catch up to them?”

  “At our current pace, we’ll reach their next teleportation point in about fifteen minutes,” Josier said calmly. “Assuming their jumps remain consistent.”

  Pell sank down onto the bench inside the rattling caravan, rubbing his skull. Questions gnawed at his mind. Why Enya? And why send a demon after her, of all things?

  Half of Talo now knew Enya’s name, but her true status as a high-noble remained hidden from most. Celeste knew her identity, yet still dared kidnap her—either she hadn't fully understood Enya’s importance, or her devotion to the Order of Sanctity had overridden any reason. Kidnapping a child was despicable enough; kidnapping a noble's child bordered on insanity.

  But even if Celeste's actions could be explained away by zealotry, this new threat—this demon—couldn't. Someone else was involved, someone powerful enough to command a demon from another layer. But who?

  “Pell,” Manny spoke up softly, breaking through Pell’s troubled thoughts, “do you have any idea who might want Enya? Who’d go so far as to use a demon?”

  The boy’s voice carried quiet worry. He'd sat quietly with Berry for most of the journey, both siblings tense despite their recent tournament victory. This wasn't the kind of mission their father had planned for their training. Demons were on a different level entirely from simple caravan expeditions. But perhaps their anxiousness came from something else entirely.

  “No clue,” Pell admitted grimly, leaning his head back against the wooden wall of the wagon. “Enya hasn’t been around long enough for many people to even know her name—I think. If someone does know her real identity, their intentions certainly aren't good. Sending a demon assassin after a child... there’s no positive outcome here.”

  “That reminds me…” Manny began, hesitantly. “We didn’t really ask before, but… things were always a little strange when we were with Enya. What family is she from, exactly? We’ve met nobles before—our father’s dealt with dozens through his business. But Enya felt… different.”

  His eyes flicked toward Pell, searching for a reaction. He even glanced at Josier, who was lazily feeding a cracker to his raven, seemingly unbothered.

  Where did he get the cracker from?

  Pell let out a long sigh, voice flat. “Kid’s a high-noble.”

  “What?” Berry’s head snapped up, blinking rapidly. “Enya’s a high-noble?”

  Pell nodded, slow and heavy, like he was finally dropping a weight he’d been carrying too long.

  Berry blinked, stunned into silence. Her mouth opened slightly, words halfway formed and forgotten.

  “That actually… explains a lot,” Manny said, fingers reaching to his jaw. “Like at the tournament sign-in. We noticed she was a noble, but just in case she couldn’t get in, we would have vouched for her. But the guy practically panicked when he saw her name. Like he’d just been handed a declaration from royalty.”

  “What’s a high-noble?” Risha asked, brows furrowed. “I thought nobles were just... nobles.”

  “High-nobles are the real deal,” Manny explained. “They’re above standard nobility. It’s like… being nobility twice over. Their families hold the kind of power that rivals kings and queens in the Four Layers. Especially in the upper layer; they control things like inter-realm travel, diplomacy, and territory disputes.”

  “So… Enya’s royalty?” Risha asked, her voice a bit too small for the weight of the question.

  “You can think of it like that,” Pell said, shrugging lightly.

  Risha’s mouth dropped open, a perfect mirror of Berry’s earlier shock.

  Then, without warning, Shadow Enya stirred.

  She’d been sitting quietly, more transparent than usual, a soft shimmer in the air beside them. But now she twitched, her form shuddering slightly, and she rose to her feet. Her gaze locked on Pell—sharp, accusatory—and she marched over to him with purposeful steps.

  In a single motion, she summoned the Grim Pullet, the spectral book hovering in her hands.

  Pell stared at it, eyebrows raised. “Uh…”

  PELL! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!

  The words slammed into his mind like a brick to the temple. He winced, rubbing his skull. “What? What did I do now?!”