Even though the next day their journey proceeded smoothly, Malia was feeling the toll of fatigue. Ever since Kadem had revealed the princess’ incompetence at keeping her magical energy concealed, the princess had recruited the twins’ help in learning to restrain it. They could feel it instantly if she fumbled at her task, so they were rigorous assistants. Malia had selected her breathing as the anchor to maintain her thoughts and thus her magic under control. Licorice had just reprimanded her for dropping her focus when Aldous yawned, stretching his arms upwards, “I love not being constantly attacked by demons.”

“Me too.” Malia admitted, “I haven’t apologized for causing so much trouble. I’m sorry.”

“You already solved it, so there’s nothing to forgive.” The redhead grinned at her.

“We were as clueless as you were anyway.” Gorken added.

When the Green Mountain changed from faint phantom in the horizon to nearby destination, Gorken pulled out his cloak from his luggage and instructed Aldous to do the same, “We’ll cover Hedera and Licorice with them, and pray that will be enough to make them pass for awakened human orphans.”

“If they pretend to be asleep when we arrive, no one will notice their eyes!” Aldous was proud of his contribution, “Rose can take care of the rest. They just have to stay with her in her chambers.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Hedera declared, satisfied.

“It’s not even a glimmer of a plan,” Bayard patted her head, “but it’ll have to do.”

“Y-you humans are more clever than you seem.” Hedera was eager to divert attention from how happy Bayard’s gesture had made her, “A base inside of a mountain is a safe bet.”

“How did you know?” Malia gaped at her; she had been astonished to discover the location of headquarters not too long ago, and there was no way to spot it from the outside.

Hedera tilted her head, “Can’t you tell that the mountain is mostly hollow? By putting your feet on the ground?”

“No one can do that!” Aldous snapped back in Malia’s stead.

“We can!” the little demon debunked defensively.

Their return to headquarters was much like the one Malia had already witnessed, marked by the enthusiastic salutes of the rebellion members. No one paid much mind to the little girls on Aldous’ and Bayard’s backs, so Gorken took the opportunity to evade possible complications, “Inform the Council that I’ll report back to them shortly.” He commanded, “I only need a quick word with Rose first.”

He didn’t give anyone the chance to question his order, striding assuredly through the stone hallways and making sure no one other than his five trusted companions was following him. Once inside Rose’s chambers, they barred the door. Bayard wasn’t done letting Hedera down and she was already complaining, “I really wanted to take a look! It was so hard to keep my eyes closed!”

Rose emerged from behind the curtains that led to her study, still wearing her burgundy dress with a dirty apron over it, “You’re back sooner than I expected. Did you-?” the large woman lost track of what she was saying when she spotted the two tiny hooded figures amidst the familiar faces, “…Are those children?”

Before a reply could manifest, Rose buried the twins in an excessive burst of tenderness, leaving the two unable to respond to her massive hugs.

“Rose…” Gorken’s intervention saved Hedera and Licorice from the affectionate threat, “There’s no point in beating around the bush. We need your help. Let go of them and listen… These two,” Gorken removed their hoods, “are demons. We need you to hide them and care for them during our stay.”

“Demons you say?” Rose stepped back, “…That’s hard to believe…” a shadow of grief shrouded her eyes, “I’ve never seen one before… but I’ve seen what they do to our boys…”

Rose being disconcerted perturbed the rest of them. They awaited her verdict in fear, regretful of having taken her cooperation for granted. They should have known that Rose was painfully aware of every drop of human blood the demons had spilled, of every gash they’d opened in the flesh of a boy gone before his time.

“Of course you need to hide them.” Rose finally talked, “I’ll keep them here.” She then caressed Licorice’s cheek, “…You sure have pretty eyes.”

“You truly are soft.” Licorice rubbed Rose’s hair with her small hand. Malia was grateful the little demon hadn’t quoted her exact words.

“It’s decided.” Rose grinned, “They’re my girls now.”

“They’ll only be here for a week.” Gorken reminded her with a gentle smile.

“Hush.” She pretended to ignore Gorken’s warning, “Do something useful and bring me any old clothing you no longer use; I’m in need of materials. It’s been too long since I got to work on proper garments for girls. Which reminds me,” Rose retrieved a bundle of clothes from her study, “I had more time to make these for you, little Malia, so they’re surely better than what you’re wearing. Go on, try them on!”

She fervently pushed Malia behind the curtains; the princess was used to combat scenarios, but Rose’s power overwhelmed even her. She would have preferred to take a bath before putting on the new clothes, but no one could refuse the large woman. She came out soon after, wearing a grey tank top, earthy green shorts and brown leather boots. Rose had even included a pair of fingerless gloves for her.

Malia was surprised by how durable and comfortable the outfit felt. At the palace she only wore clothing that was supposed to be of the highest quality, and yet, no golden lace or intricate embroidery had ever felt as suitable as the attire she had on. A sincere hug was all she could give Rose in exchange, and the woman accepted it gladly.

Gorken took the affable mood that enclosed them as his cue to leave, impatient to be done with his duties to the Council.


“May I go to the training grounds?” Malia stopped him just before he could close the door, “I haven’t trained in a couple of days.”

He nodded, “Aldous and Bayard, go with her. Just in case.”

“Boss, she can beat up most people in here.” Aldous said.

“That is why you’re going with her.” Gorken slapped the freckled man’s head lightly.

“I won’t cause any problems!” Malia promised, secretly flattered by their confidence in her strength.

Gorken had already left and Bayard was following Aldous and Malia out of the room when he felt a weak yank in his jacket. Hedera was holding the hem of it, her eyes fixed on the ground and her dark cheeks hinting at a faint blush. “Come back soon.” Her request was more a mumble than anything else. Bayard stroked her head comfortingly before taking off.

Malia’s heart thumped stubbornly against her ribcage as the crowd gathered around her. The members of the rebellion had heard rumors about an immortal girl joining their ranks, but most of them still glared at her as if she was a bizarre apparition when she stepped into the training grounds. Aldous and Bayard had already gotten used to it, but there was no denying that she looked out of place with her bright eyes, pale skin and unearthly hair.

A tall, coarse man approached her, “The Council may be nothing but a bunch of fossils with a variety of sticks up their asses, but for once even I can agree with them. Why are you here?”

“I came to train.” Malia answered honestly.

“Don’t mock me!” he waved his arms violently, “Why are you here?!”

“I’m a member of the rebellion, and I came to train.” She insisted.

“Do you take us all for dimwits?” his nostrils flared, “Why would an immortal join the human rebellion?”

Malia pondered on how to respond. Only one man was addressing her, but she knew he spoke for many. She thought of choosing her words carefully, of swaying them with eloquent phrases she had heard and read elsewhere, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. Only by being truthful would she avoid regretting her reply. “Is it really that hard to believe that I would want to help you?” She walked forward, closer to him and the men around them, “Has every human you’ve ever met been good to you? Have you never met any human assholes?”

A young voice from the crowd spoke up, its owner hidden, “…Marcus is kind of an asshole.”

“Hey!” Marcus’ offended reaction echoed off the rocky walls, unable to find the aggressor. A few members chuckled, but the majority focused quietly on Malia, expectant.

“There are thousands of immortals.” She continued, “Is it unconceivable that at least one of them would be on your side?”

Mutters and whispers grew as the members of the rebellion tried to answer that question among themselves. Aldous and Bayard were watching in amusement, ready to interfere if necessary.

“Moreover,” Malia’s fine voice interrupted the murmurs, “it was Gorken who brought me here. Don’t you trust the judgment of your own leader? Do you think he would be the kind of idiot who’d bring an enemy to your base? Because if that’s the case, I’m the least of your worries. I know I can’t expect you to trust me, but…” she realized she had no idea how to complete the sentence.

But the next voice to break the silence was not Malia’s, “I trust you!”

The mass of young men stirred, attempting to locate the origin of those words. The one to step up in the midst of their search was Amsel. His nervous posture diverged from the conviction of his voice, “She saved our companions the day she arrived. She defeated the stone demon that appeared at the southern gate. I was there.” He fidgeted with his hands, “But the Council didn’t tell us about that, did they?”

The tall man that had been talking with Malia nodded at Amsel, “They didn’t.” Then he faced her, “I know Amsel is no liar. But that’s still not enough for me… I know him, not you.”

“We could fight.” Malia offered, “My master always said that you can learn a lot about people by sparring with them. And like I said, I came to train.”

That picked the man’s interest, “I like that proposal. Let’s spar.”

It was too soon for the tension to dissolve, but just like the man had been entertained by Malia’s proposition, so too did the aura of the crowd shift to inquisitive curiosity. Malia’s constant training had given her a muscular physique, but even so the size difference between her and her opponent was obvious. Her ethereal appearance and her status as an immortal made the young men around her dubious about her odds in a close range fight.

Before stepping into one of the small arenas to confront her adversary, Malia darted her eyes around the large hall, seeking Amsel. Once she spotted him, she put her hands on his shoulders, “Thank you. You helped me greatly just now.”

The young man shyly eluded her straight forward eyes, stumbling over his words, “It-it was nothing, really.”

“It most certainly was something. It meant a lot to me. So I’ll say it again: Thank you.” She then let go of him and went up the few steps that led to the sparring grounds.