Rest did not come easy to Cateline, throughout the night she lay restless, tossing beneath the uncomfortable sheets and waking herself up with a gasp each time she closed her eyes. It felt like something was looming over her, a presence so divine in its power she had nothing to compare it to. It was similar to when she woke in the forest days ago, but less daunting this time around.

Standing at the crack of dawn, Cateline drew a robe over her shoulders and carried a gown with her to the bathhouse. Lighthelm was still, only passing by one person before turning into the wing that led to the bathing quarters. Opening the french doors, she stood in awe of the grandness of it all. Coming from royalty, extravagance was expected; however, this academy seemingly outshined her own castle.

There was decorative tile on the wall, forming shapes of flowers on all but the center one. There, rested a sun made of orange and gold tiles. From here she could see the glistening of a gem in the center, but she did not get close enough to say for certain.

It was expansive, one large pool in the middle, four smaller ones nestled on each corner for a more intimate bathing experience. Golden leaves paved the way to the entrance of this pool on the floor, a small stone bench placed for her to set her things down. Fortunately, it was empty. Public bathing was acceptable, and a common occurrence for those less fortunate than she, but Cateline was not ready to dip her toes into that aspect of normality. Not yet, at least.

In Axulran, Cateline had her own bath. To be fair, she essentially had her own wing. The only bedroom on that side of the castle was hers, the same three servants tended to her requests, and food was often brought to her quarters. While her eldest brother was off learning to fight and lead, she was expected to stay orderly and hidden. For all intents and purposes, she was a forbidden princess.

Peering over her shoulder, she dropped her robe and began to slip off her nightgown. Although she was alone, she felt exposed. As if anybody could walk in on her and see her most vulnerable areas.

Of course they can, Cateline told herself. This is a public bathhouse.

Sighing shakily, she folded her gown and placed it on the bench, slipping into the water with haste. Sure, the water was clear, but she felt far less exposed submerged than she did standing free. It was chilled, goosebumps rising all over her body, but it was somehow relaxing. Sitting on one of the submerged seats, she took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves.

It's only a bath, Cateline. You're alone, she told herself. Closing her eyes, she repeated this thought over and over until her heart had stopped pounding against her chest bone. She focused on the rippling of the water and sloshing sounds it made, allowing that to separate her from her stresses. She was met with fright when she opened her eyes.

Across from her, in all her glory, was a woman. She sat in the water, one hand twiddling strands of blonde hair between her fingers and the other supported on the edge of the bath. She cocked her head at Cateline, a sly smirk twisting upon her plump and rosy lips. She was tan, eyes as striking and deep as the ocean itself. Most importantly, she was staring Cateline dead in the eyes with an unwavering expression.

"Hello, Cateline."

Reaching up to cross her arms over her chest, Cateline did her best to conceal any part of her that was able to be seen through the surface of the water. Despite her best attempt, she felt undoubtedly naked in every way possible.

"Sincerest apologies, I mustn't look." The woman covered her face with her hand but peeked through a gap between her pointer and middle finger. She was mocking Cateline. "Oh, how could I have forgotten. My name? Thank you for asking. I am Seraphine."

Slowly nodding, Cateline gulped and furrowed her brow. "W-what do you want?"

"A few answers, which I will get. Even if you do not wish to give them to me now."

"I am sorry?"

"Let us start with one question. Why are you here, Cateline?"

Cateline felt her cheeks grow rosy, her heart echoing with each beat. She was being interrogated, and the fact that this woman knew who she was terrified her. They were absolutely alone, with no witnesses to attest to what was happening, and this made her quiver.

"I'm not sure."

"That is fine, ignorance overcomes us all eventually. Why have you not tried to go home?"

"I... do not know."

Seraphine flashed her eyebrows and grinned ear to ear. "Perfect. You're like a dimly lit flame, Cateline. I cannot wait to make you shine brighter than ever."

Cateline had no reason to be offended, but it seemed like a jab at her intelligence. It took all her might to not explode on the girl. She had to remain calm, else this woman could turn on her quickly. There was little room to make errors.

"What is it, then? Go on. You have a reason for being here," Cateline said.

"Something powerful is about to happen, my dear. Something beyond you and me. That said, I need your help."

Cateline was baffled. This woman, who appeared seemingly out of thin air, was asking her for help after insulting her intelligence, while naked on top of it all.

"You are out of your mind!"

"Clearly, and I am so happy you have deduced this so quickly. Like I have said, I'd make a brighter flame out of you soon enough. That aside, Cateline, let me part you with this gift..."

Seraphine stood, her chest exposed and water dripping from the ends of her hair. She was a masterpiece, pure artistry of a woman that was too perfect to truly exist. In fact, right before Cateline's very eyes, she saw the woman grow more and more transparent. Fading as she neared, her voice became but a whisper as her slender hands reached to touch her forehead.

"With the moon comes time, and as it cycles through, the calamity of what's true will ring in the night. At the wake of dawn, when the oak tree has seen autumn and the silver dragon has sung, I will call for you."

The woman grinned, twisting her fingernail into Cateline's skin until it began to burn like fire. Cateline screamed, this woman stabbing into her forehead as the cries bounced off each wall. It felt like she was scraping into the bone, a wave of nausea overcoming Cateline from the agony. Wailing her arms and legs, she shoved into the air and gasped as the woman vanished, leaving a plume of steam behind. Cateline reached up to touch her forehead and was met with nothing. No blood, no wound; only the tickle of a sensation lingering beneath her skin.

Jumping out of the water, she threw her dress on and ran out into the hallway. Cateline looked like a madwoman, the way she spun her head around to try and catch sight of Seraphine. There was no way she had disappeared without a trace, it was impossible.

Fortunately, Lighthelm was relatively calm. Not too many people as most were still sound asleep in their quarters. She figured there were handfuls of scholars who did not sleep here, but from what she had gathered a lot did. Nobody noticed her scream, for the few that walked around did so without a care.

Moving into the entryway, she caught sight of something glimmering in the distance. Walking towards it, she looked out of the archway window and saw a group outside, their fists radiating with each swing. It was two men, tall in physique and parrying each other in the courtyard nearby.

One had deep brown hair, horns coming from his head and curling into a spiraled point. His hair was long, falling just above his shoulders. What was exposed of his legs was pilose, almost mimicking that of a horse. She hadn't the slightest clue what he was, but it fascinated her. She had never seen anything like this before.

The other man was far more handsome, even from here. He had short black hair, skin tan, and radiated strength. They both did, but this one was particularly powerful. Each step he took was impactful, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up to reveal muscles that would make any princess gawk.

From where she stood, she could hear their laughter. The black-haired man's hands erupted into flames as he swung at the horned man, where his opponent responded with what she assumed was ice. Frost erupted into the air, contrasting the embers that fell from the sky.

"A peeper," a warm voice chimed in. "Admiring the view, are we?"

Turning on her heel, she met Aiora's narrow stare and goofy grin. "I was checking to see what all the fuss was about. They were causing quite the ruckus."

"Hmm, I am sure. Listen, Cateline, I wanted to apologize about yesterday."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Cateline huffed and shook her head. "That was quite a rude introduction!"

"Understood, Cateline, which is why I am apologizing."

Biting the inside of her cheek, she turned to look over her shoulder at the men once more and nodded. "It's quite alright, I suppose. I just do not like being made a fool of."

Aiora smiled at Cateline, her lips puckering in an effort to stifle her laugh. "Alright, then. Would you like to meet the boys?"

"The boys?"

Aiora hummed. "The ones you have been watching. They're dear friends of mine, we overlooked them as they sparred yesterday as well."

Cateline looked around the lobby again, seeing only a few passing bodies. Her mind was still racing from the bathhouse, and she found herself reaching up to instinctively scratch her forehead to make sure it was still unscathed. "I do not know if I am in the right mindset to converse."

"Mindset? You are conversing with me just fine now. Come along!"

Aiora opened the door to the right, holding it so Cateline would walk out. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she peered over her shoulder briefly before stepping outside. The loose pieces of stone crunched beneath her feet, lines of shrubbery and flowers enclosing the path. In the center was the fountain that awed Cateline yesterday, with its glowing symbols that flickered in dim little rays whenever the sunlight touched it.

To the left, in the grassy part of the meadows and near what looked to be an archery field, were the two men that fought each other with smiles so wide, it was infectious. As they neared, Aiora began to clap mockingly.

"Well done, if I do say so myself. You fight like a girl, though, Varin," she said.

"And who am I to judge on the basis of sex?" He promptly responded, turning to look at Aiora with a sneer. "Or, shall we test this theory? You and I can fight one out, too."

"I think I am more than alright as a bystander. That said, you two caused such a ruckus that you've earned the adoration of this girl."

Aiora waved towards Cateline, turning her head to look at the princess. Clearing her throat, Cateline nodded with an unpleasant look painted across her face. "Sure, we can go with that."

"Aye," the man with the horns chimed in, tossing a bag to the other with a grin. "A bountiful reward for our victor."

"Our victor," Aiora said beneath her breath, holding her hands in front of her waist politely, "is Lord Varin Vanderbique, of Yulia."

"Yulia?"

"Far, far away," Varin said and looked at Cateline through his lashes lazily. He slipped his fingers through the bow that held the bag together, a pile of golden coins glistening beneath the rising sun. He held a smile as wide as the horizon, irises the shade of caramel drinking her in with yearning curiosity. "I can only assume you are as well, that complexion does not come naturally with this sunlight. You're practically transparent."

Cateline felt her cheeks grow rosy, eyes shifting between Varin and the other man. Without asking another question, the horned one spoke up. "I am Thaddius, this morning's loser by all accounts."

Aiora chuckled beneath her breath, nodding her head. "A loser on most days, if you ask me."

"And your name, then?" Varin asked, tying his bag of coin back up before setting it on a table.

"Cateline," she said, "of Axulran."

"Axulran, aye?" Thaddius snickered. "That icy wasteland? No wonder the lassy is so pale!"

"It is icy, sure, but it is grand. I would trade it for nothing short of a fortune."

"Fortunes only go so far." Thaddius shrugged and slapped his hand on Varin's shoulder, smirking slyly. "I mean, look at this fellow. Ample land is awaiting his return, and has won many bets, yet here he stands in the midst of an academy of magic. Rather sad, ain't it?"

"Sad, indeed." Varin nodded in agreement. "So sad, in fact, I might weep as this coin is spent on some mead. You always told me you'd take me out for a drink, Thaddius."

The man grumbled a curse and waved his hand, snatching one of his belongings from the wooden table and made way towards the academy.

"Careful, Thaddius," Varin called out again, "for if you do not squash that smoke coming from your ears, your horns will burn right off!"

"Varin, I sometimes wish you did not come to this academy!" Thaddius hollered without turning to face him.

"Satyr's have the worst temper," Aiora said, "and it is only worsened by your tormenting, Varin."

A satyr. Cateline turned over her shoulder once more and looked the man up and down just before he disappeared into the building. His feet were instead hooves, tufts of brown fur peaking just underneath the cut of his pants. Biting her tongue, she refused to ask any questions in regard to the existence of such creatures. She refused to seem clueless in such a foreign land.

Still... Elves and satyrs... What else was Axulran lacking?

"If I am not here to pester, what good am I?" Varin slung a leather sack over his shoulder, moving his attention from Aiora to Cateline. "So, Cateline, what have they taught you so far?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Hmm. Well, stick around this fiery-headed one, and we will make a warrior out of you yet," Varin said with the most charming smile. Aiora sighed in response, waving Cateline along as they all headed into the building.

"A warrior, I am not so sure. I have yet to see that flame in her eyes," Aiora said casually.

"I'm not so sure about that one, Aiora, you should have seen her outside the tavern."

Cateline's gaze shot to Varin, her breath stuck in the middle of her chest. She remembered how those voices spoke of her after she stabbed that man with ice, how they wondered what they were to do with her. This was one of the men who saved me?

"I think you are right, Aiora. Also, I must run an errand. Would one of you mind pointing me in the direction of town?" Cateline said, slapping herself back to reality.

Cateline held the borrowed gown close to her chest, taking a few steps into the town carefully. It was a few hours later, the afternoon sun bright and not a cloud in the sky hindering it from its unrelenting rays. Aiora had stayed at Lighthelm, she said she needed to practice some alchemy. The word was foreign to Cateline, but she dared not to ask for clarification. Coming across as ignorant did not bode well with strangers surrounding her. Granted, these strangers did give her shelter and kindness, but it wasn't enough to earn her trust.

Varin begrudgingly led her to the town, his demeanor hinting that he would rather do other things. He was a tall man, with dark hair that was coiffed and short. She couldn't help but ogle a bit, he outshined most of the Prince's her father had introduced her to by a landslide. That said, she took note of a scar that crossed his shoulder, tucking under the fabric of his tunic and disappearing into his back. A handsome man, but one with a history of battle.

"I am assuming you know the way we are going?" Varin asked, looking around the village with an uninterested stare.

"Vaguely," Cateline said. "What is this town called?"

"This is the City of Daggernest, the largest hub of trade in the entire kingdom."

"Forgive me... what kingdom are we in?"

Varin looked at Cateline with wide eyes, his eyebrows arched in surprise. "How exactly did you get here, Cateline?"

Pursing her lips, she dug her fingernails into her palms and simply shrugged her shoulders. That was all she could do, for it was all she knew. nothing. It gave her a headache trying to think of all the ways she could have ended up here, from the forest, the storm, and the Emerald Strait. What scared her the most was she knew nothing about her watery adventure to this kingdom, it was just a black hole in her memory.

What if that happens again? Surely, I won't be so lucky next time.

"Alright, then. That said, this is the Kingdom of Traburg. Where the flowers grow underneath the holiest of sunlight, or something. Do not ask me, I was not raised here."

Cateline smiled subtly, nodding as they entered the heart of Daggernest. There were dozens of farmers and peasants running about, talking to each other, and moving heavy pieces of wood and tools. The men sweated through their tunic, almost all of them bearded and greasy. The women were dressed in brown gowns, their corsets loosely tied—if they even wore one at all. It smelled like manure and burnt beef, smoke plumes wafting out of a nearby building.

"In Axulran, we would say that the ice blessed us with thick skin. However, I am not so sure that rings true."

Varin nodded. "To be fair, your skin looks a bit thin."

Cateline blinked, turning her attention back to the city. She could vaguely remember the path she took to get to the Tavern where she was attacked, but everything else was a blur. She moved a few steps in the direction she assumed was correct before sighing, stopping in her tracks.

"Can I be honest, here?"

"Can you and will you are two different questions, Cateline."

Cateline ignored his sour attempt at a joke. "I don't know where this house is."

"You're trying to find a house?" Varin asked with a furrowed brow. "I thought you weren't familiar with this city. Why are you already looking for somebody's home?"

"It's a bit complicated, but this dress here... it belongs to a woman in this city. She let me borrow it."

Varin shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Do you have anything to go by? I may know the family."

"I mean... the matron is about yay tall," Cateline said and waved her hand just above her head, "and has... brown hair? No--it's dark blonde. I think?"

"Well, at this rate we will be knocking on every home in this bloody city. Go on, then."

After pursing her lips, she continued. "The husband is a bigger fellow, you see. He waved a cleaver at me."

"A... cleaver? What?"

"Disregard that." Cateline felt her cheeks flush. "He is a greasy thing, really. They have a daughter, probably not a day past ten. She's a curious little devil, blonde hair--"

"Senevia."

Cateline snapped her finger. "Yes! Senevia!"

Varin beamed, nodding his head as he began to take long strides to the north. Each step he took had a bounce to it, his shoulders drawn back and head tilted upright. He was ecstatic.

"Know the girl well, do you?" Cateline asked as she struggled to keep up with his pace. She tripped over a few rocks, folding the skirt of the dress around her arm to keep it from dragging on the dirt.

"Yes, Senevia is a bit of a troublemaker. I have taught her a thing or two."

Cateline didn't pester Varin with another question, although she had many. Not like she had time to inquire further as they stopped in front of that familiar stone home. Smoke still escaped from the chimney just as it had before, that same stench of potatoes and beef stew filling her airways.

Varin walked to the door, knocking on it confidently. Meanwhile, Cateline shifted awkwardly and just hoped Joseph didn't threaten her with a cleaver again. As the door swung open, Cateline was greeted with that warm, welcoming face. Petunya.

"Varin?" She hollered with glee. "It has been quite some time."

Cateline narrowed her eyes as she watched the matron pull him in for a hug. While Varin flinched, Petunya smiled. Such contrasting body language in one encounter made Cateline want to giggle, but she somehow refrained. It probably wasn't appropriate to laugh at the woman who gifted her a gown after floating down a strait.

After the uncomfortably long hug, she had pulled away and rested her hand on Varin's shoulder, turning to look at Cateline. "Ah, Cateline. I see you've met Varin!"

"Yes, he has been very kind to me." Cateline nodded, her gaze flickering behind Petunya in hopes to see Senevia. Although the little rascal had asked her far too many questions, she admired the youthful exuberance. It served as a delightful distraction.

"Varin is nothing but kind, why don't you two come in? I have made a pot of stew."

Cateline's stomach recoiled from the stench, but she couldn't say it was bad stew. It was merely a bad-smelling one. She looked up at Varin, raising a brow as he stared right back at her.

"What is it you were having, again?" Varin asked hesitantly, taking a step into the home. Cateline followed suit, letting out a quiet sigh. Perhaps the stench would be a little less revolting. Without saying another word, the matron took the dress from Cateline's hand and continued on with her conversation with Varin.

As she wondered about the idea of being stuck in this home, listening to the mundane conversation for far longer than she would have wanted, she came to the realization that tonight's entertainment would be a comedy. Varin sidestepped and dodged every move Petunya made, distancing himself as respectfully as possible.

Well, Cateline said to herself, the stew may smell like day-old beef, but at least I get a show with it.