“What do we do with the medallion?” Coin asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Quester replied. “She only joined the guild so she could cross the border and snatch a slave.”

“Take it back to the guild,” Lily said as Coin prepared to hurl the bronze necklace into the trees. “They’ll pay you a fee if you report her desertion.”

Coin smiled over at her as he withdrew his hand and pocketed the medallion. “That’s why I love you,” he said. She made a face, but didn’t reply.

“What’s next then?” Quester asked, turning towards Ruth. “Do you have plans?”

“I don’t,” Ruth said. “But-”

“What will happen to him?” Regal asked softly. The group paused turning towards the mage.

“You’re speaking again?” Lily asked. “I thought you’d be mute forever.”

Quester shot a harsh glare in his sister’s direction before leaning down to peer at Regal’s face from under the brim of the mage’s large hat. “It depends,” he said. “If the church has their way, he’ll be killed. If not… The beast-clans can be fickle. If he’s lucky he’ll be treated like a large pet.”

“Even if he isn’t, it’s not our place to interfere,” Ruth said. “Unless you also wish to give up your medallion, we have more requests to take. In any case, the beast forests are not a place for humans.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Quester said gently, reaching out to remove the hat from Regal’s head. Curled wisps of short brown hair bounced free as the weight lifted off them and he pulled the mage into a hug. Brushing the hair from Regal’s forehead, Quester planted a kiss on her soft skin as she nestled into his chest. “He’s probably safer in the forest than he would be if he was here.”

…

“A woman?” Christoph asked. “Not the angry one, I’m asking about the short one with the robes and staff.”

“I know the difference between a male and a female human,” Emilia said, tugging on his leash as she walked ahead of him. “Even the smell is different.”

“But…” Christoph staggered as the vine tightened around his neck, picking up his pace as his leash shortened. Regal was a woman? Wasn’t he just a young boy?

“Couldn’t you tell it was a woman by her clothes?” Emilia said, one of her eyebrows raised as an ear swiveling to mimic the motion.

“What do you mean?” Christoph asked, stumbling again on one of the many roots they walked across. Because of the way his arms had been bound behind his back, it was hard to keep his balance. Regal wore wizard’s robes, right? Emilia’s expression went deadpan, as she looked back at him.

“Anyway, forget about them,” she said. “Adventurers won’t come here unless we make a request. It’s the church that we’ll have to be worried about.”

“So the Executioner didn’t die then?” Christoph said. “I should have taken that greatsword-hammer thing if they’re just gonna come after me anyway.”

“Greatsword hammer?” Emilia’s ears pricked up at that and she stopped walking for a moment.

“Yeah,” Christoph said, catching up to her and leaning around to look at her face. “It looked like a hammer, but this huge blade of light grew from the top. Almost cut me in half.”

Emilia stopped walking, looking over at him with wide eyes. “The knight had that?”

Christoph blinked, looking up at her ears as they twitched. Shit. Was the hammer something important? “He did,” he replied.

“So that was Gideon the Slayer, then,” Emilia said with a grin. Laughing, she tugged on her end of the vine, starting back towards the village. “Oliver!” She looked around before frowning.

“You sent him to let the village know we’re coming,”Christoph said.

“I know that!” Emilia replied, tugging on the vine and making him trip again.

“Is the vine really necessary?” he asked. “It’s not like I have anywhere to run off to.”

Emilia ignored him as she walked ahead, tugging on the makeshift rope every now and then to keep him just slightly off-balance.

…

The dark waters of the stream washed over Gideon as he stepped out from the bank, the river illuminated by a ball of light which danced overhead. His armor lay nearby, the black plate no longer marred by crimson stains. Bending down, he ducked under the surface, feeling his many scars twinge in the cool water. One in particular pained him, and he rubbed at his neck, the bite marks growing tight in the cold.

“Are you going over the border?” Cliff asked.

“I am,” Gideon replied, the blood soaking from his body and flowing downstream.

“We’re coming,” Cliff said. His resolute expression was lost on Gideon, the older man remaining faced in the opposite direction.

“You will return to Starthall,” Gideon said. “Even if your orders were rescinded, an adventurer cannot go directly against the lords of the land.”

“Then we will leave the guild,” Cliff said, closing a fist around his silver medallion.

“In that case, you will be unable to go against the orders of the Archbishop,” Gideon said, turning to glance over at where the young man stood on the shore, Sierra sitting silently nearby.

Cliff gritted his teeth. “I cannot sit by and watch this time,” he said.

“You will,” Gideon replied. “I have been ordered to return you to Starthall even if it means I do not accompany the expedition.”

“You-” Cliff paused. “Expedition?”

“Aye,” Gideon said. “The Paladins are moving.” He stepped from the stream, and Sierra averted her gaze. “Return to Starthall,” he said. “If you are claimed by the beast clans, the Archbishop will burn down the forest to get you back.”

…

Liam cursed as he ran, yet another ball of flame roaring towards him from up ahead. Did that wizard not care about his mansion at all? The fire dimmed as Ginger moved to shield him from it, but it still exploded on the wall nearby, flames spreading over the hallway and burning through the carpeted floor. Picking up his pace, Liam closed in on the mage before he could ready another spell. Instead of trying to break through the wizard’s barrier, though, Liam stopped before the shimmering surface, watching Ginger rush past.

The mage swung his staff out, reinforcing the dome-shaped shield with a grin. This was a barrier he wasn’t even sure that he could break from the outside. Ginger stepped through without so much as slowing down, smashing through his defensive spells and swinging at him with her club. Blocking the attack with his staff, the mage sent flickers of fire to strike out at her body, the magic dying out into wisps of smoke. Ignoring his spells, Ginger continued to strike at him with her weapon, a steady stream of blows raining down on him as he exhausted his array of magic and paltry combat training.

Fire, ice, earth and air, none of it seemed to reach her, his mana disappearing before he could properly channel it through his surroundings. What kind of opponent was he facing? Turning, he tried to run but was instead knocked to the ground, collapsing as Ginger tackled him to the floor. Looking back, he saw Liam approach from where he had been watching their fight.

“Who sent you?” he asked. “The church? The college? My research here is invaluable!”

Liam crouched down next to him, reaching his hands out and placing them to either side of the mage’s head. “We’re just adventurers,” he said. “And your research is an abomination.”

There was a flash of blue light, and the mage struggled for a moment before falling still. Ginger hung her club from her belt as she stood, leaving him unconscious on the carpet. Stepping towards Liam, she wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers through his hair as they embraced.

“I know this is hard for you,” she said. “But it’s better than killing them, at least.”

Below them, the mage twitched slightly again as his breathing deepened. “It’s fine,” Liam said. “Compared to what we did before, this is nothing.”

“Do you think the others will ever forgive us?” Ginger asked. “I hope so. We were friends for a while.”

Liam shook his head, looking across at her with a smile. “I do not need their forgiveness,” he said. “And I doubt any of them blamed you from the beginning.”

“I’ve forgiven you,” she said. “Even after everything that happened, the time we spent together… I was happy.”

“I wonder how it all ended,” Liam said. Breaking their embrace, he looked around at their surroundings, flames smoldering on the carpet nearby.

“Merry the Replicator…” Ginger paused. “That young man looked just like him, and his kin.”

“I know,” Liam replied, silence falling over the couple. “He might even be one of them, for all we know. Even his age could be manufactured, if the Dollmaker was involved…”

…

Christoph tripped again, slamming into the forest floor with a thump as the vine tightened around his neck. Emilia tugged on her end as he struggled to stand, fur bristling impatiently.

“How did you survive a month in the forest if you can’t even walk properly?” she asked.

“I can’t see anything when it’s so dark,” he said. “The trees here don’t glow like the giant ones do.”

“Trees don’t glow,” Emilia snapped. “Get up, we’re almost there.”

Finding his footing again, Christoph looked ahead. For a couple of minutes now he had seen the orange light of a fire burning in the distance. “What sort of village is it anyway?” he asked. “I’m not exactly from this world, so I don’t really know about anything you’d consider common sense.”

“Do the boys in your world wear dresses, too?” she asked.

“Wizards wear robes,” he replied with a sigh. “Well, we don’t have any real wizards but the ones in stories do.”

The beast-girl jerked on the vine, pulling him forwards again. “We’re here,” she said. In front of them, the trees parted suddenly, moonlight streaming down to shine over the forest. A giant clearing formed in the forest, a clump of massive trees growing in the middle. Although not as large as those in the Paw, the trees that made up the copse still towered over the forest nearby. Ropes and walkways dotted their trunks, and cabins could be seen spread throughout their branches. Is this how the beast clans lived?

Emilia smiled at Christoph’s expression, pulling him gently towards the village. “Come on,” she said eagerly. “Leila will be waiting for us.”

Christoph struggled to walk through the trees as the cat-girl pulled him along, straining to look up into the trees at the same time as he tried to watch where he walked. Eventually, the duo reached a clearing in the center of the copse, a large bonfire burning under some kind of chimney weaved from the trees nearby. Emilia’s sister herself sat on a throne of sorts on the other side of the fire, members of the clan crowding around the flames as well.

“Welcome back!” Leila stood from her throne, calling out to them regally from the platform it sat upon. To Christoph, it seemed as if she was simply a larger version of Emilia, standing taller and with more pronounced curves.

“I have returned!” Emilia replied, pushing Christoph to his knees in front of the fire. He wriggled backwards slightly, uncomfortably close to the pile of burning wood.

“The clan greets you.” Leila spread her arms wide as she responded, and the crowd howled briefly before she silenced them with an outstretched hand. “Have you brought your prize?”

“I have.” Emilia said, reaching down to grab a fistful of Christoph’s matted hair.

“Have you brought your sacrifice?” Leila asked.

“I have!” Emilia shouted, pulling Christoph’s head backwards and baring his neck. He blinked up at her from his upside-down position. Sacrifice?

Emilia’s sister stepped down from her wooden throne with a smirk, walking around the fire towards them as the crowd quieted down. “Oh?” she asked. “Where is this sacrifice you speak of?”

Emilia smiled back at her, releasing Christoph’s hair and pushing him forward with her foot. “It is here,” she replied with a grin. “This is both my prize and sacrifice.”

From where he had sprawled out over the forest floor, Christoph saw Leila’s expression twist into a grimace. “As always,” she said, looking over at Emilia, “you bring nothing but shame to our family.”