The evening sun poured golden light over the town of Velharest, a place alive far beyond its size. Unlike the dusty village the sisters once called home, Velharest was its opposite—buzzing with chatter from Kin across the country of Zarion.
Kin, a name given to many sentient species that shared and lived in this world, filled the streets. Tall elven guards in cloaks woven with metal thread, bearing the symbol of Zarion, stood watch. Large Animalfolk argued over the news, while dwarves hammered steel into swords. A lion Kin and a panther Kin napped lazily on the roof of a street vendor, the panther's tail flicking as it dreamed.
The sisters walked cautiously through the crowd, eyes low but alert. Around them, the world pulsed with life.
"Crimson boar ribs! Crimson boar ribs!" shouted a voice to their left.
They turned and stopped before a butcher's stall, manned by a humanoid octopus Kin. Six arms worked the meat, a seventh waved to a customer, and the eighth pointed directly at the girls.
"You two! What are you—travelers? Students? Or worse, runaways?"
"No, no, no. We're from the east," Lyra replied, pulling her younger sister closer.
The butcher's eyes froze. "East? Damn. Dry lands. Nothing but dust out there. Ever tasted red moon meat?"
He dangled a glistening strip toward them. It shimmered unnaturally, like it was alive.
"Does it always move?" Miya asked, curious.
"Only if it's fresh." The butcher grinned, revealing square, solid teeth.
"This one's crimson boar. Hunted three nights ago by a famous centaur Kin during a bloodstorm. Broke two legs taking it down. Bit her arm clean off before she landed the final blow." He clicked his tongue. "Tsk. Brutal beast."
The sisters stared in silence.
The butcher laughed. "Don't have to believe it. But once you try this meat, you'll swear you were born again."
He slapped the meat onto a slab and handed Lyra a wrapped piece of jerky. "On the house. You've got kind eyes."
"Thank you," the sisters said in unison as they walked away.
Soon, the scent of fresh herbs and sweetened earth guided them to a small vegetable shop tucked beside a gloomy pathway leading to emptiness. It was quieter here, peaceful compared to the butcher's stall. Shelves were neatly arranged, with glistening greens stacked with care.
A soft chime rang as they stepped in.
"Ah, customers! Welcome!" came a warm, lilting voice.
From behind the wooden counter, surrounded by leafy herbs, stepped a tall elf woman. Her silver hair flowed like starlight over her shoulders, and she wore a faded apron speckled with green dust. When she saw the girls, her smile bloomed into something nearly reverent.
"Oh my…" she whispered, eyes widening. "By the stars, just look at you two."
The sisters exchanged a glance.
"You're angels," the elf breathed. She gestured to Lyra. "You—your presence… it's like standing before a blooming tree in early spring. There's grace in your posture, beauty in your stillness… and your eyes—heavens, they're like polished springglass. Like life just bloomed in front of me."
Lyra blushed, offering a soft smile. "Um… thank you. We're just here for vegetables and—"
"Vegetables can wait." She turned to Miya.
"And you—such a lovely soul. That smile could light up a whole room. Your eyes, wide and full of wonder… precious, rare things."
Miya giggled and hid behind her sister.
"You're both absolutely beautiful," the elf continued with a warm smile. "Surely you're used to people staring or trying to speak with you?"
"Not really," Lyra replied. "We don't think about it much."
"See? That's what makes it real," the elf said gently. "In over two hundred years, I've only seen a few with a glow like yours. It's not just beauty—it's your bond."
She tilted her head, studying their faces. "If I were a painter, I'd ask to capture both of you."
Lyra chuckled. "I think you're exaggerating."
"I'm not. Why would I lie?" The elf smiled. "Some people shine because they're made to, and others… they've walked through darkness and still choose to shine."
She tucked a bag of vegetables into their basket. "For free. May it remind you that someone saw your light today."
As they stepped outside, Miya whispered, "Do you think she meant it? Could that person… be the policeman?"
"Stop it," Lyra said, smiling slightly. "I think she meant it. Maybe she's right."
A crash rang through the alley.
Someone shouted, "Back! Get back!"
From a side street, a brawl spilled into view—two Kin locked in a violent clash.
A massive rhino Kin, chains wrapped tight around both arms, horns cracked and scorched from old battle scars. Opposite him: a slim, agile fox Kin, knives dancing in his hands, coat fluttering like fire with every spin.
They weren't strangers.
They were furious.
"You rat-faced bastard!" the rhino Kin bellowed, voice shaking windows. "You think you can just f*** my wife and walk through my town like a goddamn tourist?!"
The fox Kin laughed as he flipped backward off a cart, knives spinning. "Wasn't walking, Hornhead—I was limping! She damn near broke my hips!"
Gasps and laughter broke from the watching crowd.
The rhino roared, lifting an entire vendor stall and hurling it. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FURRY DICKWEASEL!"
The fox darted under the wreckage, slicing through the falling wood like air. "Don't be mad at me 'cause she needed a real man to howl with!"
The rhino charged, chains swinging like steel vipers. "You're dead. You're f***ing dead!"
The crowd scattered as crates exploded, spice clouds erupting into the air.
A crate shattered beside Lyra and Miya, and the girls ducked, panic in their lungs. Lyra shoved Miya behind a barrel.
"Stay down!" she shouted, just as another swing from the rhino's chain tore through a support post.
Lyra turned to run—but too late. A stray board hit her side, throwing her to the ground.
She rolled, gasping. Her ears rang.
From the chaos, the rhino's deep voice thundered again:
"Tell me how my wife tastes, huh? HUH?!"
The fox flipped onto a broken stall, grinning. "Like moonberry wine and regret. She even screamed your name once—but don't worry. I told her I'd never stoop that low!"
"YOU PIECE OF—"
Before he could finish, a crack rang out.
A blue flash hit the rhino in the shoulder.
Another flash.
Chains recoiled mid-swing.
A shadow stepped between Lyra and the fight. Coat trimmed in dark blue, glowing baton drawn. Crest of the Magic Council glinting on his sleeve.
The policeman.
"You've picked the wrong street to settle a cheating argument," he growled.
The rhino turned on him. "Stay outta this, council mutt!"
"Threatening a peacekeeper? That's a new level of stupid," the officer said coolly.
The rhino charged—and was flipped mid-air with a glowing strike to the knee. He hit the stone hard, air knocked from his lungs.
A metallic ring: shackles locked into place with a magical snap.
The fox Kin raised his hands and backed away, still grinning. "Whew. You're lucky, horn boy—was just about to let you win."
"Shut up," the officer snapped. "You're both coming in."
He turned to Lyra, eyes scanning her for injuries. "You hurt?"
Lyra, still dazed, managed a shaken, "No... just—startled."
He offered a hand.
She took it.
Miya rushed over and hugged her tightly.
As the officer turned to the shackled Kin, Miya whispered, "You think he remembered you?"
Lyra stared at his back, heart pounding.
"I think… he never forgot."
"You girls here for the Councillor's speech?" a dwarf Kin police asked as they turned toward the gloom. "Big one tonight. Rumor is, he's announcing the student selections."
The sisters paused.
"No, we just came for groceries," Lyra replied.
"You should go check it out," the dwarf said. "Kids your age are gathering to see if they're chosen to attend the capital's prestige school. Mostly nobles and high-borns go there."
"I might check it later, thanks," Lyra said as they continued down the darkened path.
They passed a tall stone building. A dulled metal plaque read: Velharest Adventurer's Guild.
A crowd gathered near the notice wall. The sisters slowed, drawn by the whispers.
A wanted poster fluttered gently. The edges were yellowed, the ink fresh and red:
"Extremely Dangerous."
The image showed a hulking alligator Kin, his scales blackened by soot or rot. A jagged scar split his snout. A mechanical chainsaw, crusted in something dark, was fused to his right arm.
"By the Rift…" someone muttered. "That's Council lab garb on his sleeve. You don't get that unless you're real deep in the pits."
"His chainsaw roars on its own," a younger voice added. "Even when he's not touching it. Like it's alive. A survivor said it screamed while chewing through her captain's neck."
"Ripped a Kin clean in half," an older woman said. "Didn't even swing. Just walked through him."
"He wasn't supposed to escape," a grizzled dwarf whispered. "He was let out. Council lost control. Now they're trying to clean up their own damn mess."
A tense silence spread.
"Why's he still wearing the coat?" someone asked.
"He never took it off," another replied. "It's fused to his flesh. Burned in."
"I saw a photo from the river attack," said a veteran with a black eyepatch. "Bodies weren't just cut. They were mangled. Like someone enjoyed it. One corpse had its heart replaced with a gear."
"Maker's mercy…"
"No mercy left. That thing ain't rogue. It was made. That bitch is a weapon."
A frantic woman leaned in close to the sisters, eyes wide. "The symbol on his coat isn't Council. It's old. Forbidden level. Black Zone. One scribe found documents… gone the next day. House burned. Whole family vanished."
"Shut your damn mouth!" a tall man snapped. "You wanna disappear too? Keep talking."
The crowd stirred, fear blooming like smoke. The sisters stood still, hearts pounding.
Lyra stared at the poster—the Kin's dead eyes, the twisted metal, the dried blood.
"Come on," she whispered.
Miya followed without a word. They slipped away, the murmurs fading behind them like echoes in a tomb.
They walked in silence.
The street widened again. Laughter returned. Guards in polished armor walked the roads, spears gleaming in the last light.
Miya finally broke the silence. "What if that thing came from a place like the lab?"
"I thought about that too," Lyra murmured.
"Do you think the Council really made him? That son of a bitch?"
Lyra looked toward the looming spire at the city's heart—where the Magic Council would soon speak.
Her voice was barely a breath.
"I don't know… but we're about to find out."