Glimpse of What's Ahead

"Who's there?" a female voice asked, echoing down the hallway.

I tried answering the frightened voice, but my own voice failed me—when I opened my mouth, I could only cough.

"Please, I need help," she called. It sounded like she was gasping.

Again, no sound came out, and my vision continued to fade. I tried getting up but my legs gave out.

"Hold… on," I managed. My voice was raspy and weak, but she heard me.

I heard harsh, forced breaths from her before she replied with a faint, "Okay."

Sylvia's dragon will was working wonders, and I felt my body healing itself. My back was scorched from sliding down the wall, and my legs felt like they'd been torn apart and taped back together, but I was able to stand up within thirty minutes.

I looked up into darkness; there was no hint of the massive tunnel that opened up over my head. Around me were shattered stones and, I thought, a limb of the queen snarler that had exploded. Near the limb, though, I spotted light reflecting from something under a pile of rubble.

Each faltering step was painful as I stumbled toward the reflection, but a smile crept up on my face as I realized what it was. My sword! I began digging and pulling it out of the shallow pile of rocks. Dawn's Ballad was soon retrieved and safely back inside my dimension ring. I put the severed limb of the mutated queen snarler inside my dimension ring as well, hoping to study it if I ever made it out of this place.

Trying to think optimistically, I realized I was in reasonably good shape. I had managed to slow myself down enough that I didn't have any broken bones. The shock had gone through my spine and rattled my brain, making me almost lose consciousness, but considering the circumstances, I felt like it could've been a lot worse. My mana was beginning to recover and, with my legs now functioning, I began making my way toward the voice, which seemed to have gone silent.

"Hello?" I leaned against the wall for support as I made my way down the passage.

"I'm… here." The voice seemed even weaker than it had been half an hour ago.

Approaching the end of the tunnel, I had to stop and wait for my vision to adjust to the brightness after being enveloped in utter darkness for so long. Inching closer toward the growing light, I called out to her again.

"This… way." The voice gave a faint cough.

I couldn't respond. I almost fell over as I stumbled back in horror from what I was seeing.

The abattoir full of snarler bodies piled on top of each other in the dungeon above seemed like something from a children's picture book compared to the scene in front of me. But I couldn't seem to peel my eyes away from it.

Corpses. Corpses of humans, elves, and dwarves lay scattered—some in pieces—around a cavern that would've been considered beautiful otherwise.

The grass-like moss spread over the ground seemed to have once been green, but was now dyed red with blood, and the stream crossing through the cavern was clogged with floating bodies, blood swirling around them.

There must have been forty or fifty corpses spread throughout the cavern, their weapons next to them. The bodies revealed signs of torture—some had had their limbs torn apart, and other beheaded bodies showed cuts and gashes all over them.

I heard her cough again. "Are you… still there?" The weak voice came from my left.

"I can't see—oh…" My heart dropped and I couldn't even finish.

The woman lying against the wall of the cavern was probably in a worse state than the mutilated carcasses spread around her.

The woman—an elf, it seemed—was missing most of her limbs. Where her right arm and both legs should've been were gaping wounds that had been cruelly sealed by burning. Her eyes were gone, and dried blood that had streamed down from the sockets stained her cheeks. Through the woman's abdomen, right where her mana core was, a sleek black spike impaled her.

"You… How?" I dropped to my knees in front of her as I inspected her. I felt like I'd seen her somewhere. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I recognized her face. Where did I—

The Lances… The Six Lances! She was one of the six strongest mages in all of Dicathen, chosen to represent the continent.

"You're one of the Six Lances," I sputtered.

"Indeed I am…" She gave a ragged sigh. "As for how… If you're asking how I'm still alive in this state, it's because he left me alive." Her eyebrows furrowed and the dried blood crusted between her eyelids crumbled. A trickle of fresh blood came from her empty sockets.

"He?" I felt like I was asking stupid questions, but I was so lost.

"Yes. Vritra." With her left hand, the only limb she had left, she slowly reached for something behind her and pulled it out.

In her hand was a sleek black fragment of some sort of stone. As I squinted my eyes to analyze it, I was suddenly reminded of my time with Sylvia.

I gingerly plucked it from her outstretched hand as she held it out to me.

The memory clicked and the pieces came together in my head. My hand squeezed tightly around the black shard and my whole body shook with anger.I knew why this black stone looked so familiar.

It was part of the horn of one of the black-horned demons that Sylvia had first disguised herself as—the very creatures that had killed her.

"Can I keep this?" I asked. I realized that my palm was bleeding from grasping the shard of the horn too hard.

The elven woman, despite her condition, let out a hoarse chuckle at my question, catching me by surprise. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what was going through her mind and thinking how admirable it was that she could still laugh, considering her situation.

"Does it seem strange… that I am so at ease in this situation?" she asked.

"No, not strange. Admirable, if anything," I replied.

"You're a strange one, too—asking a dying soldier if you can keep something like that. Keep it. It's of no value to me anyway."

Her breath shuddered and her face became suddenly grave, making her appear as if she had aged twenty years.

"I don't know your name, kid, but I'm going to die soon. There's no point in pretending otherwise." The elven warrior let out a ragged breath, but her expression remained resolute.

"My name is Arthur, and… yeah. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any way for me to save you." I put the black shard inside my dimension ring. "I'm sorry."

"It just wasn't meant to be. Since I don't have a lot of time, I'll tell you as much as I know," she said with solemn resolve.

"My name is Alea Triscan. As you deduced, I am one of the Six Lances, and the corpses you probably spotted upon your arrival were my troops. Each Lance was in charge of a battalion composed of top mages." She stopped to catch her breath, and I was glad she wasn't able to witness the gruesome slaughter that had turned this once-beautiful place into a grave of mangled corpses.

Before Alea could continue, I interrupted her. "Before you continue, I want to try something. It might not work, but I need to attempt it." It was a long shot, but I need to try.

With a slight quiver in her voice, Alea nodded her approval. "Go ahead, Arthur. Anything is worth a try at this point."

I took a deep breath, focusing on the remaining mana I had in my source and drawing a spell circle above Alea's head.

I doubt that the healing of Ent would be enough to save her in this state, so I had to try something stronger.

Channeling all the mana I could muster, I used Anos as the origin of spell. "Ei Chael!"

A brilliant light emanated from the spell circle, enveloping Alea in its warm glow. I tried controlling the stupendous amount of mana from using Anos as the origin, trying to direct it to heal Alea's wounds and stabilize her condition.

The light seemed to pulse and shimmer, and for a moment, I dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, this spell could save her. But as quickly as it had appeared, the light began to dim, and I felt the mana slipping away from my control.

With a heavy heart, I watched as the light faded completely, leaving Alea in the same state as before. She let out a weak sigh, her expression resigned.

"I didn't know what you did, but I appreciate your effort, Arthur," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"This may sound preposterous, but can you do me a favor?" Alea gave a faint smile, revealing bloodstained teeth.

"Sure, anything." I expected her to leave me with an item or message, perhaps for her family or a loved one back home.

"… hold me?" she mumbled.

I leaned in closer. "Sorry. I didn't quite catch that."

"I always thought I didn't need anyone… as long as I was strong enough. I never had a family or lover… to depend on… but you know? I-I really don't want to die alone right now." Alea bit her trembling lower lip. "Can you hold me?"

Without saying a word, I gently wrapped my arms around Alea's fragile neck and waist, leaning her head against my chest.

"I'm scared," she muttered. "I don't want to die."

I stayed silent, gritting my teeth. As before, I was unable to find the words to comfort her. I softly stroked Alea's hair, and felt her breathing become weaker and weaker.

'Arthur, can you hear me?' A voice rang in my head, interrupting the somber moment with Alea. It was Anos.

'Anos? I can hear you. Where are you?'

'I'm still in the academy. How's your condition?'

'I'm fine, just a bit banged up. But there's someone here who needs help. Can you help her?'

'Sure. I'll get your location using Gyze and teleport there using Gatom.'

A white magic circle manifested in front of me and Anos instantly appeared from within it.

"Quite the predicament you got yourself into, again," Anos remarked, surveying the scene before him.

"Anos, this is Alea Triscan, one of the Six Lances," I introduced her, still holding her frail form in my arms. "She's badly injured and doesn't have much time left."

"Yes. I can see that much," Anos replied solemnly, his gaze shifting to Alea.

Raising his palm and pointing it towards Alea, the spell circle for Ei Chael appeared on his palm, much larger and more intricate than the one I had conjured. Anos channeled an immense amount of mana into the spell, the light enveloping Alea in a brilliant glow.

As the spell worked its magic, I could see Alea's wounds closing, her broken limbs regenerating, and the impaling spike disintegrating into ash. It was a sight to behold, the power of Anos' magic at work.

After a few moments, the light faded, leaving Alea lying in my arms, her wounds completely healed. She was still unconscious, but her breathing was steady and her pulse strong.

Anos turned to me with a reassuring nod. "She'll be fine now. She only need a few days to regain her strength."

Although Ei Chael reverses and heals all damage done to the afflicted and can even heal stigmas inflicted by holy swords, it can't restore stamina or energy that has been depleted.

Relief washed over me as I gently laid Alea down on the ground, making sure she was comfortable. "Thanks, Anos. I owe you one."

I looked and saw the bodies of Alea's fallen companions scattered around the cavern. It was a grim sight, but at least Alea was spared from sharing their fate.

"Anything you can do to save them?" I asked.

Anos shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Arthur. Ingall is only able to revive the dead risk free if used within three seconds. The chances of failure increase exponentially after that window of time has passed. It's been far too long since they perished. This is the most I can do."

A bright blue light exploded from each corpse, their bodies dissipating into particles that disappeared into thin air. It was the highest grade of source magic: Syrica, the spell of reincarnation.

Since none of them knew of source magic, they'd be reborn without their abilities and memories intact. But at least they'd have a chance at a new life. With a heavy heart, I watched as the last of the fallen mages vanished, leaving behind only memories and a sense of loss. No matter how used I was to war and conflict, the death of honorable soldiers just wanting to protect their home always weighed heavily on my conscience.

"Arthur? Did you die too?" Alea's voice interrupted my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I turned to her, surprised by her sudden awakening. "No, I'm still alive. And you are too."

She inspected her body and let out a gasp of disbelief. "I'm... whole again. How is this possible?"

I glanced at Anos, who gave a slight nod. "Anos helped heal you. You'll need some time to recover, but you're going to be okay."

Tears welled up in Alea's eyes as she looked around the cavern, now devoid of the gruesome sight of her fallen comrades. "Thank you... both of you. I don't know how to repay this debt."

Anos waved off her gratitude. "No need for repayment. But, can you tell us what happened to cause all this?"

Alea took a deep breath, her expression grave. "Sure, but let me first introduce myself first to my savior. My name is Alea Triscan, one of the Six Lances.

After the formation of the Six Lances, I had been training my battalion to work as a team to clear dungeons and other unknown areas. The Six Lances rarely go on missions together, unless we are to explore an S-class or above dungeon. My troops and I came from an A-class dungeon called Hell's Jaw. We were assigned to investigate the dungeon after getting reports of inconsistent sightings inside. The adventurers who had come back were ones who frequented the dungeon for training. They barely made it back alive, and they all spoke about how the beasts residing within suddenly became stronger and fiercer. Was that the case for the dungeon you came from as well, Arthur?" Alea asked, her words coming out faster.

"Yes. Just on the first floor, an army of minion snarlers welcomed us. The minions weren't bad, but two queen snarlers showed up. One of the queens, after eating the other queen, turned from gray to black and its strength jumped a few-fold. It started to grow a horn, which—well, it reminded me of something I'd seen before."

"Something like a horned demon?" Alea's body suddenly stiffened as her head turned back toward me, shock evident in her voice.

"Yes, that's what I was thinking of, and this piece of horn only confirms it. I wonder if it was the same one…" I responded frankly.

"The same one? You think there's more than one?" Alea's voice was hoarse with terror.

"I don't have definite proof, but I suspect that the one you saw, this Vritra, is just one of the horned demons out there somewhere," I replied, recalling the night I had gotten separated from Sylvia. The black demon with downward-curving horns had said something about causing them trouble. It was just speculation, but I suspected there were probably more of them.

My mind began to spin as I pondered the different possibilities and reasons as to why they might be doing this. Was this all for Sylvie, or some greater cause?

I remembered that, when Sylvia had given the stone to me, she'd said I had to protect it at all costs. That "stone" turned out to be an egg, and of a dragon no less. Was Sylvie such an important creature that the horned demons would go this far for her?

"When my team reached the first floor of Hell's Jaw, there was nothing off about it; the mana beasts were exactly what we expected. Everything was normal until we reached the final floor, where the master of the dungeon made its den. The Hades Serpent was an AA-class mana beast—should've been something I could beat fairly easily." There was no trace of boasting or overconfidence in her tone. She was just stating a fact.

"The Hades Serpent is known for blue fire spouting along its spine, but it looked different. At first, we were confused—it didn't look like it had any flames at all. But when we looked closer, we realized the reason we couldn't see the flames against the black walls of the cave… was because the flames themselves were black.

It looked like thick smoke flickering wildly along the spine of this hundred-foot serpent. That particular Hades Serpent also had a black horn jutting out of its forehead, while its scales, which were recorded as being a matte gray color, were a sleek black…" she said, starting to shiver.

"The fight was gruesome. I lost five of my men to that Hades Serpent. The fight lasted several hours, but I was finally able to kill it. When we tried to retrieve the beast core, though, it wasn't there."

'The black horn may contain magic power that would significantly bolster their strength,' Anos added telepathically.

"Although we were tempted to go back to the surface, we had too many questions, so we started searching for clues inside. One of my men used a spell and found there was a hidden tunnel underneath a thin layer of earth. After falling down tunnel, we arrived here." Alea's voice trembled at those words.

"H-He was here… when we reached this cavern. I still remember the way he looked at us. Those scarlet eyes—" She let out a trembling breath, then continued.

"My team and I… no one knew what the monster was, so we did what our instincts told us to do. We raised our weapons—that was our first mistake. I can still picture it so clearly. His pale gray skin. His face… it was beastly, yet it looked almost… human. He looked at us and smirked, exposing his sharp fangs. What threw us off was when he talked…" Her voice fell into a whisper.

"Mm," I responded, just to let her know I was still there.

"He wasn't even surprised to see us there. Vritra, he… that thing—just looked at us before…"

"Before?" I asked, sitting upright.

"He gave us two options." Weakly, she raised her left hand and wiped at the blood running down her face as if cleaning away unwelcome tears.

"He looked straight at me, as if he knew instantly that I was the leader, and told me he'd let me walk out unharmed if I—" She choked back a sob, her hand clenched into a red fist. "—if I dismembered each of my teammates, one by one, in front of him."

Such an offer would have infuriated anyone, but looking at the state Alea was in before, I couldn't say with confidence she had made the right decision. Maybe her teammates would have wanted her to kill them quickly instead of being tortured the way they were.

"What was the other option?" I asked, gently wrapping my hands over her clenched fist.

"He just scoffed at us and said '…or you can try and fight.'"

Unable to find words to comfort her, I just kept my hands wrapped tightly around her fist. Moments trickled by, only the sound of the running water and Alea's quiet sobs breaking the deathly silence.

"We didn't… stand a chance," she whispered, hiccupping.

"I hate to make you relive the scene, but I need as many of the details as possible, Alea." Anos gently stroked her hand to try and calm her.

"He had one horn in the middle of his forehead… it curved backward sharply." She said, forcing herself to speak calmly.

"One horn?" So there really was more than one of the horned demons. Was it a clan? A race?

My heart began racing uncontrollably, just imagining a whole race composed of horned demons—and a single one of them could wipe out one of the Six Lances and her entire team.

'Anos, as a demon, what do you think of this?' I telepathically asked Anos.

'It's certainly possible. Demons can take all sorts of forms. The only thing that differentiates us from humans are our affinity towards demon magic and weakness towards holy water and holy magic. But otherwise, our appearances can vary greatly. It's not uncommon for demons to have unique abilities or physical traits, such as horns or other features,' Anos replied.

'Are you familiar with this type of demon, with a single horn on its forehead?' I asked.

'Not specifically, but there are many different types of demons with various physical characteristics. Without more information, it's hard to say for sure,' Anos responded.

"Yes. My strongest single point attack only managed to create a small chip in that horn." Alea seemed like she wanted to ask me something but her breath was getting shorter, so she continued.

"He… It—Vritra was able to use magic, magic that seemed to defy common sense. It wasn't like any magic I've ever seen." Alea's forced calm cracked, and her lips began to quiver.

"What kind of magic did he use?"

"Metal. Black metal. He was able to instantaneously conjure metal spikes, blades, any sort of weapons from the ground… from himself. I don't even know how to describe it properly. It was over too quickly. Half of my team was dead in the first wave of attacks he unleashed… with a simple flick of his wrist. When the ones that were still alive attacked him, he didn't even bother to dodge—plates of black metal materialized instantly and blocked whatever attacks managed to get near him."

I felt my face tense as I tried to visualize what powers Vritra, and possibly his entire race, might possess. It seemed to be conjuring but on a completely different level. The way she described it made it seem more akin to manifestation, or even creation of a certain phenomenon, rather than influencing mana particles that already existed.

How was that even possible, though? Were they capable of just skipping steps in the fundamental laws of magic in this world, or were they simply more knowledgeable, able to do this through a special skill? Was it source magic? Did they have access to magic of the source?

"Vritra… He left after doing this… to me. I'm not sure if he knew someone was going to come, but the last thing he did was to tell me his name… and to say that Dicathen was going to become a warzone. That it was just the beginning." Alea's voice trailed off, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"Damn it."

I sent out a mental transmission to Sylvie and sighed in defeat when I didn't get a reply. Slumping back down against the jagged wall of the cave, I reviewed everything the defeated Lance had told me. From the information she had gathered, I was able to make a couple of speculations.

First, there was more than just one black-horned demon. How many, I wasn't sure. My only hope was that they weren't numerous. If one of them could easily kill a Lance or gravely injure a dragon like Sylvia, then I was out of my league.

Second, they were definitely after something. I wasn't sure what, but my mind kept wandering back to the egg Sylvie had come from, which the demon had called a "gem." If they really were after Sylvie, then avoiding them indefinitely wasn't going to be possible.

Third, there was going to be a war in Dicathen. This continent would be in danger and we definitely weren't prepared. Something about what Alea said—how the demon had told her that there would be a war—made me feel sure that the black-horned demons weren't from this continent. Was the new continent, the one we had just discovered, filled with these demons? I shuddered at that thought.

Yet, if there truly was a race of super-powered beings aligned against us, why would they be sneaking around our dungeons and infecting the mana beasts instead of marching across Dicathen and annihilating us? They were obviously uncertain whether they could take on the whole continent, so they were going about it discreetly—at least for now.

How long had the demons prepared for this war? When would they bring their attacks to the surface? Was war inevitable? Was waiting the only thing I could do—all that we could do?

A sharp pain in my hands made me realize how hard I was clenching my fists. I relaxed them, then watched the drops of blood running down my forearm.

I was slowly learning, and Alea's near-death experience had reinforced the realization, just how much I valued my relationships—with my family, with Tess, and with my friends. In my past life I hadn't had anyone I would have given my life for to protect. I had that now, but I didn't have the strength to protect them—not against what was about to come.

Despite all my potential, I had grown complacent. That needed to change.

I recalled the message Sylvia had given me after she teleported me into Elshire Forest. The words still rang clearly in my head: I would hear from her again once my core passed the white stage.

That was the most certain method I currently knew of to get some reliable answers. However, I was still unable to break past the threshold of dark yellow stage. After yellow was silver, and then white. I still had a ways to go.

I turned my head towards Anos. "Hey, Anos. Can you teach me more about source magic?"

But when I looked at him, I saw him kneeling beside Alea. "You have no mana core now, and Vritra thinks you're too weak to be a threat. Tell me, what do you seek?"

Alea's voice was barely a whisper as she spoke up, her eyes still closed. "I seek… vengeance."

Anos glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Vengeance against Vritra?"

Alea nodded weakly. "Yes. And his kind. They… they took everything from me. My troops… my pride… my dignity…"

"Is that truly what you want?" Anos questioned, his voice firm. "I have seen those consumed by vengeance, it only leads to more death and destruction. Is that the path you wish to walk?"

Alea's eyes fluttered open, meeting Anos' gaze with determination. "I understand the risks, but I can't just sit idly by while they threaten Dicathen. If I have to sacrifice everything to stop them, then so be it."

Anos smirked, stood up, and extended a hand to help Alea up. "Very well. If vengeance is what you seek, then I will help you achieve it as our goals align, for now."

Alea took Anos' hand, using it to pull herself up to a standing position. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I am Anos Voldigoad. I will teach you how to you use magic without a mana core," Anos said. "But your status will be kept secret and you will be announced to the public as dead."

He turned to me, his gaze piercing. "As for you, Arthur, your bond is coming over here, fast. You will keep everything here a secret and announce that Alea and her team perished in the dungeon. Do you understand?"

I nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Understood. I'll keep everything confidential."

With a nod, Anos casts Gatom, teleporting both him and Alea away, leaving me alone in the cavern to contemplate the events that had just unfolded.

Suddenly, a ferocious roar sounded, echoing off the cavern walls. 'Papa!'

My head jerked up. The roar was soon followed by a loud crash coming from where I had fallen. Picking myself up, I dashed toward Sylvie's voice, stopping in front of a cloud of dust and calling out to her.

'I'm here, Sylv! Are you okay?' I covered my face with my arms as the dust cloud instantly blew away, revealing my precious bond in her full glory.

Sylvie's natural dragon form had become even more fearsome than when I last saw it, at the Dire Tombs. If she had looked crudely fierce back then, the feeling I got now was more akin to awe. Her scales were no longer glossy; they were now a dignified matte black. Her two horns had grown even longer, extending past her snout, and another pair of horns protruded underneath them. She appeared as majestic as she did deadly. The spikes that used to run down her back were gone, making her seem more refined. Her gem-like, iridescent yellow eyes pierced through me. Could it truly be that this magnificent creature still referred to me as 'Papa'?

'Papa! You're okay!'

She lifted me up from the ground with the force of her lick, dispelling the bewildered awe that had held me in place.

"You got bigger again, Sylv!" I beamed a childish smile and hugged the snout of my dragon, and Sylvie let out a deep purr as she rubbed herself against me. For just a moment, I was able to forget everything I'd just been through.

Lifting me off the ground with her snout, she placed me on her broad, muscular back.

'Hold on, Papa! Let's get out of here.' She gave a powerful snap of her wings, a raging gust formed underneath us, and we were propelled into the air. Though I hardly noticed in the moment, the sudden force didn't affect my body, and I rode comfortably on the back of my dragon.

During the flight back up, Sylvie and I caught up on everything that had happened while we were separated. She didn't really understand everything about the demons and the upcoming war, but she did get the sense that whatever was about to happen wasn't good.

'Don't worry. Whatever happens, I'll be with you!' Sylvie's innocent response left me chuckling.

Like a narration from a children's book, she told me a bit about what she'd been up to—mostly fighting beasts and consuming beast cores. I needed to be there with Sylvie the next time she trained, I thought; I was curious as to what she was capable of. Sylvie didn't really know the distinction between the various levels of mana beasts, so I was left pondering just how powerful she actually was.

'Hmph! I'm really strong.'

"I know, I know." I patted the hard scales on Sylvie's neck, but we left off our conversation as my bond navigated out of the impossibly long shaft and back into the first floor of the dungeon.

As we landed in front of the ruined staircase leading up to the surface, I glanced back at the hundreds of minion snarler corpses. Sylvie transformed into her fox form and leapt to the top of my head, taking a couple of spins before perching comfortably in my hair.

Augmenting mana into my body, I lightly jumped from one broken stair to the next, careful not to collapse the fragile remains of the staircase. The well-worn steps, once ivory smooth, were now cracked and treacherous.

A full moon greeted us as we reached the surface. As I had expected, there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone else had escaped safely.

I had to hurry; it was a several-hour trek to the nearest teleportation gate. First, however, I released a pulse of wind around me to make sure there wasn't anyone hiding nearby. Satisfied I wasn't being watched, I retrieved the seal from my dimension ring, and was about to put it on. An image of Alea flashed into my mind and I paused, studying the seal carefully. Then I took out the black fragment of the demon's horn—the horn of the demon that had almost killed her—and considered it as well.

My mind made up, I took a deep breath and put the seal back into my dimension ring. No more hiding.A churning sensation stirred within my stomach. I had bigger things to worry about now. Fitting in, hiding the truth of my power—that wasn't important anymore. This demon-horn shard would be my constant reminder of that.

'What's that, Papa?' Sylvie's head popped up, and she reached for the black shard with a paw.

"It's my goal, Sylvie," I said, determination steeling my body and calming my mind. Patting my bond's furry little head, I began my trip back.