The sun was shining. As we walked through the dense forest, our palace clothes torn and caked with mud, we drew closer and closer to the village Tenebris had mentioned.

I walked at the front of the pack next to Gigroth, who suddenly seemed deep in thought. Yae was right behind me. Ahria and Stella hung further back, eyeing our surroundings with apparent suspicion—especially Ahria, who was still extremely fragile from her magical exhaustion.

"You look worried," I said, trying to break the awkward silence.

Gigroth stared at the trail ahead, her steps heavy and steady. Hearing my remark, she turned her head and met my eyes without slowing her long strides.

"I wouldn't say 'worried.' More like... thinking. And mind you, I'm not much of a thinker," she stated with a dry smile. "Name's Gigroth... Gigroth Stone Heart. Nice to meet you."

"Neiva Deep Water. It's a pleasure to meet you, Gigroth," I replied, returning the smile at her unexpected politeness.

I looked up at the cloudy sky, searching for some golden trace of Hyperion through the branches, but the divine border already seemed sealed, locking the doors to our home for good.

"What got you thinking?" I asked, looking back at her.

"Hyperion. But that doesn't matter right now," she answered, her gaze locking back onto the path unrolling before us.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask exactly what about the Realm in the Clouds had her so pensive, the dense, claustrophobic trees gave way. The sun bathed our dirty faces. We had finally reached the edge of the village, and it stretched out right in front of us.

People were walking around in clothes... different from ours. They didn't flaunt threads of gold, gleaming metal pieces, immaterial armor woven from clouds, or translucent silks draping their skin. They wore... rags?

"So this is a human village!" exclaimed the girl with ember hair, breaking into a sprint toward the center of the settlement.

"Hey! Flamescion! Wait!" yelled one of the twins, revealing her companion's name in her panic.

"Flamescion..." I murmured to myself, watching her run.

We approached with a slower, more cautious walk, observing the bustling movement of the mortals. The mundane people hurried back and forth, carrying baskets full of provisions, bundles of fabric, chunks of rustic metal, and various other crafts. Among the humans, I managed to catch glimpses of elves and even some people with more distinct, unusual physical traits.

The village was nothing more than a rustic cluster of small houses built from wood and raw stone, with thatched roofs and dirt roads... But in a way... it was special to those who lived there. The exact moment they spotted us, the daily chatter died instantly. The villagers stopped what they were doing to stare at us. They didn't do it with hostility, but with an intensely fascinated curiosity. We were, after all, a group of nine mysterious women, covered in blood and mud, yet radiating a mystical presence completely alien to the rest of Primitia.

"We have guests!" someone shouted from the back of the square.

"Do you think they're an adventuring party?" others asked.

"Look at those eyes!" the women whispered.

The questions were so numerous and hushed that the air vibrated. They drew closer and closer to us, their surprise so real it was almost palpable.

A small girl, in a torn dress and with a face smeared with hearth soot, timidly approached our line. Her large, curious eyes locked onto us in total awe.

"Why does your hair have so many bright colors?" the innocent child asked, pointing a dirty little finger at Yae's pink strands, and then right at my tide-blue ones.

I smiled. I crouched down to her level to answer.

"We're from—"

"We color our hair to honor the Gods of Hyperion," Stella interrupted, taking a haughty step forward and passing me. Her voice rang imposing and authoritative, silencing me with a hard, warning glare. "We are their priestesses. We were sent to this village by divine order to protect you from the new threat."

A murmur of confusion and immediate fear spread like wildfire through the crowd. One of the village elders, a man with a hunched back, took a step forward, his trembling, calloused hands exposed.

"A threat, my lady? What kind of threat?"

"Dragons," Stella replied, coldly and surgically direct.

The word dropped into the square like a stone thrown into a crystal lake. Panic set in rapidly. There was a noticeable, sweeping unrest; mothers pulled their small children into their arms, terrified by the lethal revelation. Despair was about to overtake the village's sanity, until Gigroth stepped up. Her imposing figure, combined with her thunderous voice, smothered the rising chaos in one fell swoop.

"There is nothing to fear!" Gigroth roared, slamming a closed fist against her own muscle-plated chest. "We are here. Your fear ends where our blades begin. We will be your shield against any beast!"

Gigroth's raw confidence caused a mix of peace and comfort. The terror and weeping morphed into a collective sigh of pure relief and quickly escalated into a wave of euphoria and salvation. Seeing us as the embodiment of divine blessing, the villagers scrambled to mobilize and welcome us with every honor their poverty could afford.

We were quickly ushered to the largest and most well-established inn in the village, which the locals called the "Talking Mare." There, the owner offered each of us a modest room, with simple clothes laid out on the beds and access to a hot bathhouse.

Taking a bath there was vastly different from bathing in Hyperion. In Primitia, they offered us wooden basins with warm water and thick, clean cloths so we could scrub away the encrusted dirt, mud, and blood stuck to our bodies. In Hyperion, on the other hand, we had access to perfumed bathing clouds, waterfalls with pure healing waters, and the very atmosphere of the divine realm took care of cleansing the impurities from our pores simply with the passing of time.

Our celestial clothes, now ruined and torn beyond repair, were replaced by local attire. They gave us tough leather pants, tightly laced brown corsets, wide belts with thick iron buckles, and thick fabric shirts. Wearing all that felt strange, rustic, and far too heavy, but it was undeniably practical for our new reality. I knew, however, that I was definitely going to miss the lightness and shimmer of my old dress.

When I finished getting dressed, I left the room. I walked slowly down the upstairs hallway, taking in and analyzing the local architecture. The inn was mostly built of dark wooden planks, and the metal we usually used for ornamental clothing in Hyperion was used here in the structural beams and support nails. The overall decor was simplistic, and in some areas, it gave off an aura that was almost slightly sad and resigned.

In Hyperion, the exact same inn would be brimming with visual memories, abundant life, riches, solid gold, polished marble, and perfectly clean windows reflecting the lights of the eternal palace.

As I walked down the wooden stairs, which creaked under my weight, I was hit by a stuffy air and a very abrupt change in temperature. The lower floor was hot and humid. The orange glow of the torches and the immense noise served as a clear invitation to the welcome party the village had thrown in our honor.

People danced back and forth to the rhythm of a folk song. They were animated, cheerful, deeply sweaty, but above all, they seemed genuinely happy. Some drank greedily from deep wooden cups, others yelled conversations at each other, and everyone ate without restraint. There was a makeshift table in the center of the hall loaded with chunks of roasted meat, plenty of fresh bread, and jugs of water and wine.

The rich flames of the hearth danced to the rhythm of the party's footwork. Gigroth, perfectly blending into her element of disorder, sat heavily at one of the tables, sampling the famous human ale. I could see her laughing uproariously while openly competing in a virile drinking contest against Flamescion.

"You're really weak, Flamescion. Just look at the state of that red face of yours," Gigroth mocked, her pronunciation already slurring slightly.

"Weak?! You're the weak one, you can't even down one more cup!" Flamescion shot back, slamming the base of her empty wooden cup onto the table. Her vocabulary already sounded far too sloppy and lost, as if she were going to collapse into sleep and lose consciousness any second.

"Ah, we'll see about that!" Gigroth downed another cup and immediately filled the next one to the brim.

"I'm not losing my title to pieces of raw chicken!" Flamescion teased, trying to balance on her chair and preparing to chug her next gulp.

"What are you guys drinking?" I asked, approaching the table with a curious smile.

"I don't even know. They offered it, and I just accepted," Flamescion replied, closing her eyes.

"You agreed to swallow something from strangers when you don't even know what it is, and then you gave me a drink from the exact same jug?!" Gigroth asked, staring at her companion, absolutely incredulous and outraged.

"I didn't die from the poison, so of course you're not going to die either!" Flamescion answered, immediately falling into a fit of laughter.

"Yeah, right... but don't think I've forgotten our bet! You still have a gulp to down!" Gigroth demanded, forgetting her outrage and immediately returning to the frothy drink.

"Well... have fun over there, then," I said, backing away a bit while scanning the crowd for Yae.

"Don't you want to join us?" Gigroth asked, raising the jug.

"Yeah, join us, Neiva!" Flamescion added, dragging her words. "It'd be one more competitor to lose!"

"I deeply appreciate the invitation from the bottom of my heart, but I'll pass on getting drunk. The two of you look... a bit too altered to me," I replied, taking two more prudent steps back. "Please, be careful so you don't feel sick tomorrow."

"Your loss," Flamescion concluded, closing her eyes as I slipped away through the noisy crowd.

In the center of the main hall, the atmosphere was feverish and incredibly contagious. People danced euphorically to the songs of a local bard, mixing dark drinks in their hands with laughter and good nocturnal company.

Ahria, who looked visibly much better and recovered after a few hours of magical rest in the room, twirled carefully while holding hands with Yae. They followed the lively human music; Ahria still seemed a bit reserved and moved with a certain measured calmness to fully bounce back from her exhaustion, but their festive energy was simply impossible to resist.

"Neiva!" Ahria said, a warm surprise lighting up her face when she saw me.

"It's so good to see you're much better," I murmured, gently placing my hand on her healed shoulder.

"Yes, after a few long hours of quiet rest, I finally started feeling like myself again," she explained with a smile.

"Come on, join us, Neiva!" Yae ordered, grabbing my hand tightly and pulling me into the center of the circle.

We started dancing together, swaying our bodies and freely enjoying ourselves to the rustic rhythm of earthly music. The village people called out our names and clapped around us at our clumsy movements. Yae undeniably pulled off the best and most agile spins of the entire party, and Ahria displayed the smoothest, most floating movements those mortals had ever seen in their lives! That cozy atmosphere was entirely and absolutely different from anything I had ever witnessed. I danced... danced... danced... and laughed until I couldn't feel my legs anymore. I only stopped when I found myself panting and sweating from exhaustion.

"Oh, I can't take it anymore, I'm exhausted. I need to sit down for a bit," I warned, letting go of their hands with a smile.

They smiled back at me and, ignoring their fatigue, kept twirling and dancing with total fervor.

I stepped away from the hot, breathless dance circle. I scanned the room for a quiet place to sit and found Tenebris abandoned in a dark corner, completely isolated from everyone, calmly and disinterestedly sipping a drink from a wooden cup. Her sharp eyes analyzed every shadow and every sudden movement of the peasants in the hall. I walked over and sat down on the long bench next to her, sighing in relief at being able to rest my feet.

That was when my gaze dropped to the floor. I noticed a small but obvious pile of leather coin pouches strategically hidden beneath the black folds of Tenebris's skirt. My eyes widened in shock.

"Tenebris... tell me you didn't steal their spare change," I whispered, deeply outraged, leaning toward her. "They welcomed us with open arms! They threw a feast! This is wrong."

She didn't even deign to look at my shocked face. She took another slow sip of her drink and smirked ironically, staring off into the void.

"You don't need to thank me for having already sorted out and secured our financial worries for tomorrow, dear Neiva."

I opened my mouth to shoot back at that cold barbarity, but my gaze inadvertently drifted to the opposite side of the wooden hall. Far beyond the comfort of the hearth's flames, sitting on a bench plunged into the gloom and the densest darkness of the inn, where the music and the joy of the mortals couldn't seem to reach, was Stella. Completely alone and isolated.

Worried about our friend's detachment, I stood up immediately. I was going to turn around and ask Tenebris if Stella had spent the entire party sitting sad in that shadowy corner, but when I looked back... the chair next to me was completely empty. Tenebris had vanished into the shadows and taken the bags of money with her, just as was her habit.

"Of course..." I muttered.