“Just a little longer,” Grik marched among his pupils, urging them ahead towards the stubby mountain down the road. The ancient sanctuary sat so close at hand, yet Carmine lamented the hours of walking still to come. Her feet ached, her body shivered and her scars stung, really stung, from the cold. As the pupils marveled at the snow trickling down around, she hated it. The dampness in the air sunk into her clothes and Vale’s tonic only did so much. Still, she hid her discomfort for the others. The last thing she wanted was to drag everyone else down and ruin their excitement. She knew she’d feel better once they found shelter indoors, she just had to endure until then.

She sipped her canteen, examining the sanctuary at a distance. Its silver walls shared the same blue leylines she recognized in the desert archive. Even from afar, Carmine recognized the glow. Despite the afternoon slowly fading to evening, the structure shone silver, bathed in sunlight under a clear sky. Standing the test of time, the structure itself stood with an enduring beauty. Cubic towers flanked the entrance arch, its base melded into the mountain. As it stretched back, the structure grew taller and taller, spires reaching skyward. When it reached its end, dozens of silver tubes both massive and miniscule pierced through its back, catching the howling winds from high.

As peculiar as it looked, something else beckoned Carmine forward. None of the others made mention of it yet, but something sang through the ancient structure. Wordless, yet serene, the melody eased Carmine's frustration, and kept her focus. The wildlife too showed little concern for the traveling students. Deer grazed within sight of the path, birds sang along the road, and critters passed nearly underfoot, heedless of any threat. Carmine saw neither hide nor hair of any predator since the mountain lion on the first day. Perhaps the others couldn't hear the tune so far out, but Carmine believed more surrounded the sanctuary than just cultural significance, and the thrill of unraveling that mystery carried her forward.

"Mr. Grik, there's someone up ahead," Aaron warned, pointing down the road.

"What?" Grik spun on his heel to follow Aaron's direction. Those few words disturbed Carmine's calm as she spied the other group. A few tents cluttered the road forward, and a sentry already spotted the student headed their way.

"So there are!" Grik cracked a smile, trying to ease the uncertainty slowing everyone's steps. "They look like fellow travelers to me. Everyone, stick close and be on your best behavior. We'll say hello and be on our way. I'll do any talking that needs to be done."

They proceeded forward under the watchful eye of the distant strangers. As they approached, a human man raised one hand to halt them as the other rested on a crossbow.

Grik waved at the guard. "Hello, good sir, we-"

"Road's closed." The reply was swift and curt.

"I- excuse me?"

"Road's closed. You can't come through."

"Well I never- you can't close the road!" Grik frowned, hands on his hips. "Who do you think you are? This is Dwerra's territory, and you're not one of the rangers. You have no authority."

"Doesn't matter." The man shrugged. "Road's closed."

"Looks like negotiations have already failed," Emmet whispered, smiling wryly as he watched the show.

"Looks like," Carmine sighed, wringing her hands together as Grik stammered for words, his plans upended.

"What's all this noise?" Another man stepped up behind the guard, clad in the same uniform if a gray breastplate could be called one. He looked senior to the other guard by at least ten years. Streaks of gray lined his hair and a bushy mustache crawled over his upper lip. He took one look at Grik and the students before raising a brow. "Locals?" He mused. "What brings you fine folks out here?"

"I could ask you the same," Grik countered, "along with why you're blocking our road."

The mustache man sighed through his nose, shoulders sagging with fatigue.

"Follow me," He said, turning towards his camp.

"Oh," Grik's bluster turned to surprise. "Alright then…pupils stay close”

"Name's Oscar, by the way," The mustache man continued towards a gaudy wagon in the center of camp. "Regardless of how it looks, we're not highwaymen asking for a fee. This road's got problems, but I'll leave it to my…employer to explain that." He rolled his eyes towards the wagon itself.

Carmine held her pack tighter, counting five more guards in addition to the two she'd seen so far. Her throat tightened as her palms started to sweat. If it were up to her, they'd turn back and wait for the road to clear, but Grik had to think he could talk his way through anything.

Oscar stopped next to the long wagon, the words "Laurence's 'Lixirs" emblazoned along the side in offensively green lettering. He bashed his fist against the wood thrice, and a surprised grunt erupted from within.

"What is it now?" A man's head poked through the cloth flaps at the wagon's rear, curly blond hair dangling down, pungent with perfume. The man glared at Oscar before his eyes went wide at the larger group behind him. "Oh, my. Um…hello?" He flashed a wavering smile, twisting a goatee so thin he could have drawn it on himself.

"Afternoon, Laurence. These good folk would much like to know why we've stopped and blocked the road," Oscar explained. "I was wondering much the same, so if you could get your ass out here, we'd all appreciate it."

"Right. Certainly. One moment." His head withdrew as Carmine heard rustling cloth and grunts of exertion.

"Got to get his show clothes on," Oscar sighed, climbing onto the wagon's coach for a seat.

Several minutes passed before the cloth flaps opened back up and the man sauntered out.

"Terribly sorry for the wait," He apologized, strutting forward in shoes with only the barest hint of trail mud. A smile crossed his face again, this one much more practiced as he went over each face one by one, his brow raising when he saw the Leval students. He offered his hand towards Grik as the shoulders of his black and white doublet puffed out, wrinkly and sad. "My name is Laurence, proprietor of Laurence's 'Lixirs."

"Are you the boss of these folks?" Grik asked, leaving the hand wanting.

"Employer would be more accurate," he replied with a short bow, removing his feathered hat as blonde curls escaped down his shoulders. "I understand there's been a misunderstanding. Join me by the fire and I'll clear everything up."

"What 'misunderstanding?'" Grik dug in his heels, gesturing at Oscar. "Your guard here said we couldn't go forward."

"Curt though he is, he's right." Laurence side eyed the guard, and received an eye roll in response. "You all ought to turn back; a man-hunting beast prowls these woods. It's already killed one of these men and injured another."

The pupils huddled closer to Grik at the announcement, and Carmine felt Hern squeeze her hand tighter. Already, she wondered if it was the same creature as before.

"What did it look like?" Grik asked.

"I'm afraid I have few details to give you, we've only stopped so I might concoct a…well, concoction to ease our injured." the flamboyant man waved them towards the other side of the wagon. "But come, let's sit, and I'll share what I can." Without waiting for confirmation, Laurence sat himself on one side of the fire, and motioned across.

Grik begrudgingly dropped onto a stump opposite. His pupils competed for the spot closest to him, worried glances abound. "I don't think you ever mentioned what brought you here," he said.

"Did I not? Pardon my rudeness." Laurence bowed his head again, deeper this time. He placed his hat back on with a flourish, if only to hide the sweat on his brow. "As you might have guessed from my shop, I am an alchemist extraordinaire."

"An alchemist?" Grik furrowed his brow. "What are you doing out here? Wouldn't Dwerra be a better place to hawk your wares?"

"My friend, you make it sound so uncouth, but yes, after a brief sojourn up to the sanctuary, we'll be visiting there next."

"Why visit the sanctuary?" Emmet asked. "Is there something up there for a potion?"

"That's right, young Leval." Laurence wagged his finger. "Rumors say the frost that covers the sanctuary grounds before winter carries a blessing that soothes the mind when melted into a dew. I planned to incorporate it into my next line of potions."

"Sounds like snake oil to me," Aaron grumbled, and Oscar burst out laughing from the wagon's perch.

"Some rumors lead to dead ends, true," Laurence nodded to Aaron. "but some have bits of truth to them, and you'll never find that through skepticism."

Carmine knew little of alchemy, only what Almyra shared from her classes, it being an interest of hers. She explained it as a method to create sorcerous effects through the mixing of specific materials, using magic as a catalyst. According to her, the energy could be stored in alchemical creations. Even those with little talent as a mage could excel in alchemy.

So, if this man were telling the truth, he was a sorcerer to some degree. Carmine shifted further back from the strangers, her distrust only growing.

"Enough about that, would you care to stay a while to join us for dinner?" Laurence offered.

"Don't think that's a good idea," Oscar said, Carmine silently agreeing.

"Surely it's no trouble," Laurence waved his guard's concern away. "We're just about to sit down. It's the least we can do in return for interrupting your trip. Where else could you be going than the sanctuary?"

"Well, we-" Grik started, but Carmine stood up.

"I-if it's alright," She said, barely keeping her nerves under control, "you said you had someone injured. I'm a healer's apprentice, I could take a look, make them more comfortable…"

"A healer?" Oscar sat up at once.

"I suppose if you're offering." Laurence' turned his rigid grin on Carmine. "I don't see why not."

"I can show you to him." Oscar slid down from the wagon. "He's under one of this peddler's numbing potions to keep him quiet." He jabbed a thumb at Laurence.

"Right," Carmine frowned, looking over her shoulder. "Emmet, can you come help me?"

"Why me?" He replied, tilting his head. "I don't have much experience-"

"I just need an extra pair of hands." Why couldn't he just come along? "Please?"

"Well…alright." Emmet walked to her side.

"Right this way," Oscar showed them to a tent far from the wagon. Already, Carmine smelled the faint trace of blood in the air. "If you can get him on his feet, that'd be great," Oscar said, sweeping the tent flap open to show a bloodied man lying in his cot with a blanket pulled over him. Only a dim-burning lamp joined him in solitude. "But I'd settle for keeping him breathing."

"Okay," Carmine said, warily crouching into the tent. "We'll be a little while, I think. It's best if only Emmet and I are here, we'll need the room."

"Healers and their space," Oscar grumbled again. "Fine. I'll leave you to your work." he closed the flap behind Emmet. Through its swaying gaps, Carmine watched him stomp his way back to Laurence muttering to himself, "Gotta keep an eye on this fool anyway."

"Soooo, what do you need me to do?" Emmet asked, his face a shade paler than normal. He turned away from the wounded man in the room.

"Just be quiet a second," Carmine answered, pulling open the wounded man's eyelids. His pupils stared back at her devoid of focus. Whatever potion he had in his system kept him quite sedated.

Good.

She unwrapped the blood dampened bandages haphazardly wrapped around her new patient's leg. Beneath, long deep wounds crawled up his calf and thigh. It reminded Carmine of a cook she had to treat in Rolderston who tried to throw a house cat from her kitchen, though those cuts were far smaller. The wounds in front of her now hadn't even been sutured. Aside from the potion, they'd left him to bleed into his bandages. Carmine shook her head, whispering an incantation to quicken the staunching. Wrapping her hands in gloves, she took a clean needle and twine from her bag and started stitching.

"You didn't need my help, did you?" Emmet asked, keeping his focus off Carmine’s work.

"Not for this. Had a question for you, though," Carmine dropped her voice to a whisper. "Have you ever met that guy before?"

"Who, that Laurence guy-"

"Hush," she hissed an insistent whisper.

"Wha-? You asked me-?"

"Keep your voice down."

"Fine." Emmet gave her a patronizing stare, but dropped his voice. "No, never seen him before."

"Then how did he know you were the 'young Leval?'"

"Oh," Emmet paused, frowning in thought. "Guess he did say that…maybe because of my robe?" He pointed to an embroidered tower over the robe's breast. "Kinda has our symbol on it, and we're not exactly a small name, Carmine."

"You really think he could recognize you from that?"

"It's not too much of a stretch for me. Even if I don't know him, he might know my family one way or another."

"I don't trust these people," Carmine confessed, anxiety crawling all over her mind. "We should double back and wait for them to leave."

"I think you're worrying about the wrong thing, Carmine," Emmet gestured to the injured man. "If something out there can do that to people like us, then we're safer with the guards here. Sure, they're kinda grouchy, but it's better than wandering alone."

Carmine grumbled, her anxious hum filling the tent. Why did he pick now to be reasonable?

"If you're worried, just stick with me," Emmet continued, "I won't let anything bad happen to you or anyone else." He beamed with such self-assured confidence, Carmine lifted her collar to hide her smile.

"Fine," she nodded, conveniently returning her attention to her patient, though she'd done all she could. "Just…be careful of Laurence, alright?"

"Don't worry," Emmet beamed. "I'll get everything straightened out right now."

"What do you mean?" Carmine asked as Emmet left the tent. She held the flap open and walked after. "Wait, what do you mean?

"Mr. Laurence," Emmet said as he sat back near the campfire. "Do you know my parents?"

Carmine's heart seized in her chest.

"Your parents?" Laurence looked away, thoughtful. "I'm afraid that doesn't narrow it down my boy-"

"Thomas and Symphonia, from the Leval institute of Magic."

"Ah, now I see it. I thought you looked familiar," Laurence chuckled, as Carmine wanted to scream. "Yes, I do believe I've had the pleasure. I spoke to your mother on just a small visit to trade for potion ingredients. The school is quite impressive."

"Oh, that's cool," Emmet nodded in approval, looking at Carmine with a confident smirk.

She grit her teeth. One story was all it took for Emmet to lower his guard.

He trusts too easily. Whatever Laurence's story was, she wasn't so easily convinced.

"So, we have a lordling in our midst?" Oscar asked as he stood next to Carmine.

"No, my parents don't have a title like that," Emmet explained, “they lead a school for mages."

"That's quite grand. Good for you lad." Oscar nodded, impressed, before he looked at Carmine. "How's my trooper?"

"Uh- He's…still out," Carmine stuttered under the seasoned man's gaze. "I managed to stop the bleeding and did some simple stitches…someone really should have helped him before me, though."

"That's why we stopped," Oscar replied, voice quieting, "or so he said." He nodded at Laurence. "Made a big promise he was brewing something up. Doesn't seem so keen to do it now though. I'd give half my men for a decent healer like you, lass. You looking for a job?" Carmine held her hands together, trying to remain calm, unsure of what to say next. "Relax, lass, only a joke. Grab a bite on Laurence's coin, if he's so insistent. My men will keep watch." Oscar patted Carmine's shoulder as he stepped past to talk with his troops.

"We should go back," Carmine whispered to Grik while Laurence distracted Emmet and the pupils with his tall tales of strange places. "I don't like these people."

"We will soon," Grik replied, "If there's a man-hunter prowling around, we're not staying."

"Good." Relief flushed through her mind only staunched by Grik's next words.

"But first, We'll have a meal with these folks to keep our supplies steady…sorry you won't see the sanctuary after all."

"That does seem safest!" Laurence's haughty tone carried over.

"What do you know?" Carmine snapped at the intrusion.

"Calm down, girl, I'm agreeing with you." Laurence gave Grik an earnest grin, sidelining Carmine from the conversation.

"Mr. Grik, you seem a good fellow. My guards aren't what I'd call an experienced bunch, and I'd not trust them to take care of so delicate a group as yours. It might be best you forgo this trip and return home. Perhaps returning with a ranger or two might help secure everyone's safety, and make a rest an easy thing."

He's hiding something, Carmine glared, his speech suddenly strange.

"Perhaps," Grik nodded, his back stiffening despite the chuckle from his chest. He started gathering his pupils. "I think we'll take your advice. You've been so courteous, I'd hate to impose-"

"First we eat," Laurence insisted. "Can't have too sudden a send-off."

It took only a few minutes before Laurence presented a hearty meal for all. Unlike Grik, he brought almost a whole kitchen in his cart, and enough food for a bowl of thick stew for everyone. Carmine left hers untouched, instead surviving on the nutty trail mix and jerky Grik brought along. She watched those around her eat, half-expecting them to start coughing, or suddenly fall asleep, and yet…they were fine. Except for Grik, normally he'd be the first to lead his pupils in conversation, but around Laurence he sipped his soup in silence. Carmine caught him glancing around more than once, surveying Laurence's camp.

"Hello, again," Oscar sat by the campfire, pouring himself a bowl of soup and looking at Grik. "You know, you never mentioned why you're heading up the mountain.

"Oh, well," Grik exchanged a glance with Laurence. "It's a field trip you see, taking students to see places unlike our burrows. Making the trip to the sanctuary is sort of a tradition."

"Ah, sightseeing." Oscar smiled. "Too many folks never get to see much beyond where they're born, did you know that?"

"I've heard that said, yes."

"Well, you're so close, why not travel up with us on the last leg, hmm? No point in wasting a good trip."

"I don't think my pupils' parents would be pleased if I kept them out with a dangerous animal around."

"Perhaps even more so without proper guards."

"Maybe, but I think it'd be cumbersome for everyone to group up. We're intruding on your group, my students don't recognize you…"

"It's no problem. We're going to Dwerra right after."

"I'm afraid my mind is made." Grik declared as he stood, gathering all his pupils behind him. "Thank you for the hospitality,"

"Twas nothing," Laurence stood and bowed. "Just make sure you mention me to your friends in Dwerra-"

"Alright, get off it," Oscar interrupted. He furrowed his brow at Laurence, irritated . "You think I wouldn't notice this farce?"

Carmine saw the other guards starting to converge on all sides, and Laurence's smile wavered.

"My friend, I don't know what you-" he started as Oscar rose to his feet, smashing his bowl into the merchant's face. Grik's pupils recoiled, and their teacher placed himself between them and the guards.

"Nice try, peddler," Oscar stood over Lawrence, casting an eye over the students. "But I'm not letting a bonus like this go away." Oscar turned on his heel to Grik, his eyes switching between Carmine and Emmet. "Here's what I want: you leave the rich kid, and the healer, the rest of you can go as you please if the beast doesn't catch you."

Carmine's breath froze in her throat, Oscar's words from earlier ringing alarms in her head as she tried to process what just happened.

"No." Grik answered, hiding one hand behind his back, starting the gestures for a portal.

"I'm being reasonable," Oscar insisted, "but that can change very quickly.” he looked past Grik to the pupils, “You sure you want to risk that?"

"They're under my protection." Grik warned. "You won't lay a hand on-" his body shuddered as a bolt pierced his chest. The pupils screamed as Grik fell on his back, coughing, a shaft protruding from his chest.

"What the fu-" Oscar looked at the shooter behind him. "Did I say shoot!?" He snatched the crossbow from his man's hands. "What a fucking mess."

Carmine rushed over, pressing her hands to the wound. Her head buzzed with too many thoughts, her eyes cloudy and unfocused as screams rang in her ears. She needed to stop the bleeding.

"To hell with it; grab them all," Oscar ordered. "We'll sort this out later."

The pupils shrieked as the guards moved in. Aaron and Emmet tried to calm them down, but they were no better. Someone yelled Carmine's name, perhaps Hern, or Gwen but she barely heard it over the screams, the crackling campfire,

And the rain.

Bright red blood stained her hands. Her scars stung as her eyes grew distant.

"Sorry, lass," one bastard said as he reached for Carmine, "You're coming with me."

A vicious thunderclap brought the discord to silence as the brigand flew off his feet, sliding to a smoldering stop.

Carmine stood up, turning on the pupil's captors. Their faces, sneering and shouting, mirrored the mob from that night. Wrathful intent burned in her mind as lightning arced from her fingers, driving the scum into a writhing pile in the dirt.

"Shoot her!" Oscar commanded his remaining troops as Carmine electrocuted another. With shaking hands, they raised their crossbows, pointed at the young woman seconds from frying them all.

A black blur raced from the tree line before the deadly exchange. It pounced on an arbalest, tearing into them with fang and claw.

"Fuck this! Get on the wagon!" Oscar shouted. The remaining men scattered, as the beast chased down another. Only Oscar and two others clambered aboard Laurence's wagon and drove its terrified horse towards the sanctuary. Lightning crackled over their heads as Carmine tried to force them to stop. Her aim drifted, her eyelids hung heavy as her arms shook with fatigue, but she couldn't stop. Not yet. Rage growled in her throat as she watched the bastards get away.

"Carmine!" Aaron shouted in her ear as he turned her around. "Stop it! Get a hold of yourself, we need you." Past the senior student she saw Emmet and the pupils gathered around Grik. The kindly teacher barely kept his eyes open as all his students tried to keep him awake. Aaron pulled Carmine by the wrist to the dying Riven, his every move sluggish and uncertain.

"You- you can fix him, right?" Aaron asked, shaking and sputtering, hairs' breadth from panic. "You know what to do-?"

"Move," Carmine yanked her wrist free and knelt down. She eyed the quarrel in Grik's chest, knowing she needed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. As she muttered her incantations, eyes transfixed on the wound, nothing changed. The bleeding continued, and try as she might to heal, she couldn't force the image of the brigands from her mind, nor the rage from her heart.

She couldn't do it, and watching Grik slip away only stoked her frustration.

"Fuck!" She cursed, pulling Vale's snapper from around her neck. She forced the small crystal into Grik's hand and closed his fist around it until she heard a snap. A translucent portal opened beneath Grik's body before he sank through like a stone in murky water.

Carmine clenched her fists as the portal closed up.

"What happened?" Emmet asked. "Where'd he go?"

"I sent him to Leval." Carmine answered as she rose. "Vale will take care of him.”

"Will Mr. Grik be okay?" Hern asked, tears streaming down his face as he clung to Emmet.

"Vale's good. He'll be fine." Carmine turned towards the carnage around them. The men she'd struck down still lived, crumpled on the ground as they were. If they knew what's best for them they'd stay down.

The beast's victims had no such choice. They lay bloodied and still, the creature responsible sitting among them, cleaning its claws as it stared at Carmine with singular focus.

"Are you going to be a problem too? She asked, lightning arcing between her fingertips in case it made any move on the pupils. The beast stalked to one of its kills, every step slow and deliberate. It dropped a paw onto the fallen guard's cloak, digging its claws in as its hair stood on end. Carmine recoiled as a low groan erupted from the creature, followed by sickening cracks as its body shifted. Hair retracted into dark gray skin as its limbs thinned and grew. Its face flattened to one more human as it pulled the cloak over its body in one swift movement. Where the beast once prowled, a woman rose on two legs, her expression neutral, unmoving. As human as she looked, her eyes remained golden and slitted, fangs sat in her mouth and bloody claws lingered on each hand.

"I mean you no harm," she answered, her voice a soft growl, like wrinkled silk. She strode past Carmine and the pupils, not sparing a glance as she arrived where Laurence huddled in a ball.

"Ah…Miss Kathir," Laurence squeaked as the woman dragged him to his feet with one arm. "You have no idea how happy I am-"

"You were warned." The woman said. "Had you listened to master's council, you would not have needed rescuing."

"Excuse me," Aaron raised his voice, stepping up to the pair. "Could someone please explain what is going on here?"

"M-may I?" Laurence pointed to Aaron and Carmine. Without a word, or any expression at all, the strange woman, Kathir, released her grip. "Thank you," Laurence nodded as he turned to the Leval students. "Those men you saw weren't here for my protection."

"You don't say?" Emmet snapped.

"I suppose that is obvious now." Laurence nodded, rubbing his bruised chin. "I am an alchemist as I explained, one with a talent for identifying and procuring rare and…perhaps dubious materials."

"You're a smuggler," Aaron said, jabbing his finger at Laurence.

"An ugly definition, but given the circumstances, fair enough."

"What the hell did they want us!?"

"Right, right…with you? I suspect they were interested in a ransom." He looked towards Emmet. "Please forgive me young Leval, I didn't mean to bring up your family. To wretches like them," He glared at an unconscious brigands, "you're worth more than every potion in my wagon…which they've stolen, damn it all."

"Why'd they want you?" Emmet questioned again..

"All I knew was we were going to the sanctuary. I can speculate they needed my eye for artifacts to pilfer from there…which is why you're here, I imagine." He looked at the gray woman as she listened, arms crossed. She gave no answer. "...Right. Thanks anyway." Laurence turned back to Aaron. "Listen, you lot need to return to Dwerra, and seeing how you lost your guide, I can show you the way back, so long as you don’t mention the smuggling bisiness."

"Fine. No funny business." Aaron warned. "These kids have been through enough-"

"What about them?" Carmine pointed towards the sanctuary. "Are we going to let them get away?"

"We'll report them when we get back," Aaron answered, eyeing Carmine with guarded concern. "We need to leave."

"So they can just escape?" She asked with a snarl. "After what they did?"

"Carmine, everyone is still here. We're not guards, rangers, or whatever. We need to get back to safety. Our priority is the pupils."

"And when they come after us again-?"

"Again?" Aaron frowned confused before a glint of realization sparked in his eye. He opened his hands to soothe her anger, his tone softening. "Carmine, you need to listen to me: you're experiencing something called war-lock. This is why they don't teach battle magic at school; it messing with your head, keeps you locked into a fight instinct. The danger is gone. Everyone is safe. Please," he reached towards her hand. "Come with me. We'll all go back-"

"No!" Carmine pulled her hand back. She covered the burn on her face, its rough touch was all the proof she needed. "They'll come again. With more, you'll see. No one's safe until they're all gone."

"Carmine, they ran-" Aaron tried to continue before the shapeshifting woman interrupted.

"I may have a use for you," Kathir said, placing herself between Aaron and Carmine. "Should the sanctuary be vandalized, I will need a sorcerer's assistance to repair it. You will follow me."

"Hey," Aaron tried to grab Kathir's shoulder, yet she avoided his grip without a care. "You can't take her-"

"She is willing," Kathir placed a clawed finger under Aaron's chin, barely touching his skin. Despite the threat, the fear spreading over Aaron's face, her expression never changed. "And I have need." She lowered her claw as Aaron stepped back. "She will be returned when we are finished. Laurence," she stared at the flinching merchant, "do not find trouble again."

"Understood, miss," Laurence agreed with a mix of relief and urgency before gathering the students. "All of you follow me, I'll take you home."

"You," Kathir grasped Carmine's shoulder with a firm grip, bordering on painful. "Your name is Carmine, yes?" She nodded. "Our time is short, climb upon my back." As she gave the order, Kathir's body already started to snap and shift. Within moments the same black lion stood before her, eyes unblinking as before.

Carmine hesitantly clambered on, sparing one last look towards her peers. Emmet lingered behind the rest, steps reluctant as he looked back at her.

"Good luck," he said, "and be careful."

"I-" Carmine's reply never came as Kathir jolted forward, and the young elf gripped tight to her fur. A brief regret wormed its way into her mind, but she buried it deep, turning her mind to the pursuit ahead.

This time she was no helpless child.

This time she could fight back.