The walk back home was uneventful. Father and I didn't speak on the way; I wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because of the new king's words that had affected him, and now he had to serve as the king's war counselor. I hoped he would resist the king's push for conflict against the other clans, but after hearing King Darion's speech, there was little hope for peace.
"How are you feeling, Lorien?" my father asked.
Without hesitation, I replied, "I'm going to find Mom." Father looked at me, then stopped me, grabbing my shoulders and looking me in the eyes, with a serious and worried expression.
"That's too dangerous, Lorien, and no one knows where she is," he said.
With confidence and determination in my eyes, I responded, "I know, Father, but I believe she is alive. I can feel it in my heart."
"Please, Lorien, I've lost your mother; I don't want to lose you too," he begged.
I looked away from him for a moment, darting my gaze from his eyes, which were filled with sorrow and worry; I knew there would be a significant risk if I set out to search for Mom. For all of the effort of the Three Clans to tame the Everlasting Isles, they were still a dangerous place that would bring down even seasoned adventurers. But I had to try to find her either through closure or by bringing her home. I looked back in his eyes, with even more fire than I ever had before.
"So please, Father, let me do this. I-I need closure," I stated, my voice starting to break with every word.
Father looked into my eyes and saw the pain, grief, determination, and fire of a warrior within me. At that moment, Father realized what his son needed to do. So, with a heavy heart, he responded to me.
"Okay, I believe in you, son; I have some of your mother's things; you can look over them, maybe you can make sense of it, after all, you do take after her."
I hugged my father in a sudden embrace. "Thank you, Father."
"Just…Just be careful, Lorien."
With that being decided, Father and I continued our walk home. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders—a gesture full of pride but also worry. I could feel how torn he was, wanting to protect me yet knowing he couldn't hold me back forever. I, on the other hand, was filled with a mix of excitement and dread. The thought of setting out to find Mom thrilled me, but beneath that fire burned fear and doubt. I didn't want to fail… or worse, die trying. I hoped that some of her belongings might give me a clue—a place to begin my search. But if they didn't, well—
My thoughts were cut off by sudden shouting and a swell of commotion.
"Someone stop that fox!" a man yelled.
I scanned the street for the source, heart skipping as I spotted a cluster of guards chasing something small, weaving between their boots. At first, I couldn't make it out. As they drew closer, I saw her clearly—a tiny fox, barely a foot long, her once-white fur matted with dirt and grime. Two small, crystal-blue antlers rose from her head, glimmering faintly despite the filth. Her golden eyes flashed with panic. Her fluffy tail, tipped in icy blue, was tangled and streaked with mud. Patches of fur were missing along her sides, revealing cuts and bruises. She limped as she ran, breath ragged and uneven. Despite her battered state, there was something otherworldly about her—something that didn't belong to the noise and chaos of this world.
Then her eyes met mine.
She bolted straight for me, leaped, and crashed into my chest. I stumbled back and fell hard, clutching the trembling creature to keep her from hitting the ground.
"Please help me," she said in a frightened, childlike voice. "I sensed your mana; please help me."
She buried herself against me, shaking. Up close, I saw the fear in her eyes, the grime caked in her fur, the minor wounds dotting her frail body. She was so light—too light, as if she hadn't eaten in days. My chest tightened.
"It's okay, little one," I whispered, stroking her head. "You're safe now."
"Thank you," she breathed, tears gathering as she pressed deeper into my arms.
The pursuers finally caught up—guards, shopkeepers, even a few soldiers. One stepped forward, sneering. "Give us the fox—magic mutt."
The fox whimpered, trembling harder. I shifted my grip and rose to one knee, putting myself squarely between her and them, my free hand raised.
"No. She stays with me," I said.
My arm shook. I knew that if I unleashed my mana here, exile—or worse—could follow.
But I couldn't just hand her over; something inside me told me to ignore them, despite the consequences I may face, but it would have been worth it if the tiny fox had been kept safe.
"That's enough," came a commanding voice. I turned to see my father beside me, his expression hard as steel. "The fox stays with my son."
Before anyone could answer, another voice—aged yet steady—cut through the air. "And if Lord Everwind's word isn't enough, let mine be."
Old King Tharion stepped forward. Even without a crown, he carried a quiet authority that made men lower their eyes. He studied the fox, then glanced at me.
"Stand down," Tharion ordered. "This creature is under our protection."
"L-Lord Everwind—Your Majesty—understood," the man stammered, and the group dispersed at once.
Relief flooded through me. I exhaled and eased my raised hand, looking down at the tiny fox still curled against my chest.
"It's going to be okay," I murmured, scratching gently behind one ear. "I'm going to take care of you."
"Thank you," she whispered, her trembling easing as her breathing steadied.
Tharion crouched beside me, his gaze soft but keen. "Warmth, clean water, and rest," he advised. "Keep her close; fear fades faster near a calm heart."
"I understand, I'll take good care of" I said.
He smiled faintly and stepped back. The fox nestled deeper into my arms, her eyes fluttering shut. I stood carefully, and my father took my arm to steady me.
"Thank you for supporting me, Father," I said.
He shook his head with a small smile. "Of course, Lorien. Now let's head home."
I took a deep sigh of relief. I was scared during that moment, of what I could have done.
If I were ever going to use magic, it would have been here to protect this tiny, adorable fox. The fox, if I could call her that, wasn't a normal fox; no, she was a spirit. I could feel her mana, or rather, her entire body's radiant mana as spirits like her were made of it. We continued on our way home. The little fox had fallen asleep in my arms, resting peacefully. She was so adorable, all snuggled up against me. She was tiny, almost to the point of me being able to hold her in one hand. She was also malnourished. I could feel that she was all skin and bones; she had been relying on her mana to sustain her, as she seemingly couldn't acquire anything to eat that fit a spirit like herself. I smiled at the sight; she no longer had fear on her face, just peace. I didn't know what to do with her, though. The plan, perhaps as a mage, I could take her on as my familiar, to have a friend who could understand me. I liked that a lot; it gave me the hope that the new king took from me. The tiny fox started to twist and turn in my arms as we approached the Everwind Household, her face contorting with pain and fear from a nightmare. I began gently stroking her fur, trying to calm her without waking her, but she stirred, probably trying to escape the pain in her dreams. Her large, amber eyes blinked at me; the fear that once plagued her was gone, replaced by a mix of curiosity and shyness.
"Hey," I gently said, " Did you sleep well?" I asked
The fox nodded her head. "I-I uh did," she sheepishly said.
I smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear that," I said.
The fox turned her gaze, seemingly not trusting me despite my gentle approach with her.
"My name is Lorien. What's yours?"
"My name?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.
She looked and sounded adorable when I asked, but she sounded confused.
"Yes, you have one right?"
"I do," she began to say, turning away from my gaze. "But you want to know it?" she asked.
I was confused by her question. But you want to know it. It echoed through my mind. Did her previous master not use her name, I thought. Whatever this fox had been through was rough to the point of not sharing her name with others. I pushed all that aside and focused on taking care of her.
"I would love to," I told her with a smile.
"Runa," she said, her white fur cheeks having a tint of red dotting, which made her even more adorable. I didn't know that a spirit fox could be embarrassed.
"It was given to my first master, but they barely used it."
"What happened to them?"
"They abandoned me," Runa said.
"They abandoned you? That's terrible, Runa." I said as I reached for the door and entered the house.
"They were mean to me and did stuff," she said, looking away.
I reached up behind her ears and scratched them. "Well, don't worry, Runa," I told her, my voice as smooth as honey, "I'm going to make sure you are taken care of, okay."
Runa turned and looked at me, her eyes filled with a softness that I hadn't seen from her, but there was a hint of uncertainty and sadness. I began to pet her head, avoiding her antlers as I saw bruises at the base and damage to them. She leaned into my touch, seemingly accepting me and feeling safe. We entered the kitchen area and looked down at Runa in my arms.
"What do you think of doing first?" I asked. "Food or getting you cleaned up?"
Runa was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out the options I laid before her, then her stomach growled. She looked up at me, her cheeks tinted with red, seemingly embarrassed.
I giggled. "I guess we'll get you something to eat then."
"Yes, please," she sheepishly said.
I set Runa down on the table, where she wrapped her tails around her paws and began looking around the kitchen. I looked through the pantry, trying to find something that she could easily eat at the moment. She was weak, I could tell from her mana, so overwhelming her with food could prove more harm than good. Of course, I'll feed her something more hearty once she recovers some of her strength.
Let's see what would be something good, dried meat. Maybe later. Nuts? No. Ah, berries that'll work.
I reached up and grabbed the glass jar of berries, placed a wooden bowl on the table in front of Runa, and poured the berries into it.
"Here you go, Runa, eat up," I told her.
She leaned her head down and sniffed the bowl berries, then looked up at me and back at the bowl, unsure what she should do.
Does she not trust me or the food? I didn't know what kind of life she had lived before meeting me, and when her first master mistreated and later abandoned her.
"Are you going to eat Runa?" I said. I leaned down closer to her at eye level and smiled. "I promise it's safe to eat."
She looked at me, unsure if she should trust me. "Are you sure?" she asked
"Yes."
She looked at me with her big eyes, making little noises as she thought for a moment.
"Okay," She said, "I trust you, Lori," she said, butchering my name
"Lori?" I asked
"Yep, Lori, it's simply like my name." She happily said, a significant shift in her demeanor.
I smiled a little. It was adorable that she gave me a nickname, even though it sounded like a girl's name. I think people might have assumed I was a girl because of my androgynous and boyish looks, but I could overlook it for her sake. As she began to eat the berries from the bowl, I took a closer look at her wounds without touching her, trying not to scare her. She had patches of fur missing and various cuts, bruises, and other wounds dotting her small body. She was also filthy; her white snow fur was covered in dust, mud, grim, and other things.
First things first, ensure those wounds start to heal. I opened a cabinet, pulled out a mortar and pestle, and a few herbs, and began making medicine for Runa. This was something I learned from Mom before she left; she made potions and medicines from the Isles' flora. The scent of crushed mint and golden leaf filled the air as I ground the herbs in the mortar, the rhythmic sound of stone against leaf strangely calming. Bits of green clung to the edges, releasing that sharp, earthy fragrance that always reminded me of home. Mom used to say that every good potion contained a piece of the healer's heart. I hoped she was right. I glanced over my shoulder. Runa sat on the table, still munching on the berries I'd given her earlier, her little paws stained purple from the juice. She was watching me out of the corner of her eye, pretending not to. Her tail flicked now and then—nervous, but curious.
"Almost done," I said softly, careful not to startle her.
She froze for a heartbeat, then resumed eating, this time at a slower pace. Her fur was still a mess—matted with dirt and dried blood. I'd need to clean her wounds properly soon, but that could wait until after the pain eased. The herbs had softened enough. I poured a few drops of spring water into the mixture and used the pestle to blend it into a pale green paste. From the shelf, I took a small vial and scraped the mix in, adding a drop of honey to bind it. The color swirled faintly before settling—a sign it was ready.
I carried it over to her slowly. "Here," I said, holding the vial in both hands like a peace offering. "This will help with the pain. Just a sip, alright?"
Runa eyed the vial suspiciously, ears twitching. "Smells funny," she muttered, voice small and uncertain.
I smiled. "It does. But it'll make your scratches hurt less. I promise."
For a moment, I thought she'd refuse. Then, with a tiny sigh that made her whiskers tremble, she leaned forward and sniffed. Her amber eyes darted up to me once more—searching, testing—and finally she took the vial between her paws and drank.
Her nose scrunched. "Bitter," she mumbled.
I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yeah. They always are."
She blinked, then looked at me again, quieter now. "...Thank you."
The words were barely a whisper, but they made something warm bloom in my chest.
"You're welcome, Runa."
As she finished her berries, the potion began to work, a faint shimmer of magic curling around her fur where the worst of the scrapes lay. I picked her up gently and held her close. Now that the pain would start to cease and I had made the paste to treat her wounds, it was time to clean her up.
"Alright," I said gently, dipping the cloth. "Let's get you cleaned up."
I carried Runa down the stairs to the interior bathhouse, inspired by the Virelian communal bathhouses but made for privacy, bringing the paste, bandages, and a towel. I sat her down on a stool as I prepared a basin for her.
"Lori-" I heard Runa say, "Why did you help me?" she asked
I looked back at her and gave her a small smile. "Because it was the right thing to do," I told her.
I poured a bucket of water into the basin and placed fire-rune-etched rocks into it to warm the water.
"That and you remind me of me a little," I added
Runa looked up at me and tilted her head. "Really?"
She's cute when she is curious, I thought.
"Yeah, I saw how the guards treated you, and the pain in your eyes, and I-" I paused for a moment, swallowing my courage down, "I know what that is like."
My expression softened a little as I remembered how everyone treated me despite my best efforts to fit in because I was different. After all, I was a mage.
"I saw how those people treated you and called you names," Runa said innocently,
"Why? Are you not in the same clan?"
I envied the innocence and naivety she possessed; it was something I wished I had, but the cruel nature of the world didn't allow mine to stay with me that long.
I took a deep breath. "It's because I'm a mage. The Clan despises magic and mages due to their long history of suffering at the hands of those who wield it. I inherited my magic from my mom. She—" I paused for a moment as my voice started to break from thinking about her in this way. "She made me fall in love with magic, and now she's gone."
"That's very mean of them, Lori," she said.
I gave a soft-hearted laugh at her comment; she saw the world in a simple light.
"I'm an outcast. I hate being alone, and—and I—" I sighed. "I hate being alone."
"I understand, Lori. My master thought I was weak, and then people tried to use me," Runa said, reaching up to touch one of her antlers.
"Well, I don't think you're weak; you managed to survive all on your own," I told her. Finished with the bath, I went over and gently grabbed Runa.
"What are you doing, Lori?" Runa asked, tilting her head.
She didn't struggle as I held her, which was a good thing, as she started to trust me.
But all that was going to change.
"You're getting a bath," I told her
"You mean getting wet?"
"Yep." I answered.
Once she realized that, well, she started to struggle as I held her over the tub.
"I don't want to." She cried
"Come on, Runa, you need to get cleaned," I told her as she fought me.
She needed to get cleaned up so I could take care of her wounds, but it would seem that she wasn't a fan of water.
"Don't you want to look your best?" I asked as I attempted to put her in the tub, but she used her paws to hold onto the sides.
"I don't like baths."
"Please, Runa," I begged.
The struggle continued for quite a while until a flick of her tail splashed water in my face, getting my hair wet and making my braid undone, which stopped her struggling.
"Sorry, Lori." She said, her ears lowered and her tail between her legs in shame.
In that moment, I took the opportunity and dropped Runa into the tub, who was slow ot react as her tiny body splashed into the water, her form going underneath with only her antlers sticking out. She quickly stuck her head out from underneath the water.
"You meanie," she said.
I began squeezing the water out of my hair and slowly started to reform my braid, but I couldn't help but giggle.
"Think of it as payback, Runa, and a little fun too," I told her.
She frowned, and her ears lowered. "It's going to take forever to groom my fur," she said.
I rolled up my sleeves, and then I started to wash her, a smile dotting my face.
"Don't worry, I will brush your fur once you get dried off," I told her.
Her ears perked up immediately, and her eyes started to sparkle with excitement. "Really?"
I poke her on the nose. "Yes, silly, I told you I was going to take care of you," I said, scrubbing her fur.
Runa's ears lowered once again with a faint blush dotting her cheeks, and I saw her eyes. Her eyes held inner turmoil; perhaps she still harbored deep feelings about trusting people after what they had done to her. I kept scrubbing her fur until I was satisfied with my work, then picked her up with a towel and began to dry her off. Her fur stood up, and she looked away from me, embarrassed.
"Are you able to fix this?" she asked
"Yes, I can," I told her
I grabbed one of my old brushes and began brushing her fur. She began to purr and moved closer to me, enjoying the feeling of getting brushed.
"This is nice," she said softly
"I'm glad, Runa," I said with a light smile.
I continue to brush even after her fur was back to normal, avoiding the wounds as best I could. This was something I enjoyed; it replaced the thoughts about Mom and my future in the clan with joy as I helped my new friend.
"Hey Lori," Runa said after a while, her voice quiet but steady.
"Yes, Runa?"
"I've been thinking about something… about the future."
I paused, stilling my hand as I finished tying the small bandage around her foreleg. Her fur was damp from the bath, clinging in little tufts. "Don't worry about that right now, okay?"
"Why?" she asked, tilting her head up at me, her ears drooping slightly.
"Well," I said, reaching for another strip of clean cloth, "first you need to be nursed back to health. You're incredibly thin, and you've got missing spots of fur and wounds all over your body. One thing at a time."
She watched me with those big amber eyes. "Okay… after you help me get better, then what?"
That question sat heavy in the air. I dabbed the healing salve gently along a scratch on her side, the herbal scent rising between us. The truth was, I didn't know.
A part of me wanted her to stay—not as a familiar, not bound by magic, just… as a friend. Someone to talk to other than my older sister, someone who made the little cottage feel alive again. But I also knew what people had done to her, how deep those scars ran. If she wanted to leave, I couldn't stop her. Even if my heart begged me to.
"I don't know, Runa," I said finally, looking away as I tied off the last bandage. "We'll see once that day happens, okay?"
She was quiet for a long time, her tail curling against her paws. "Okay," she said at last, her voice small and sad.
I smiled, brushing a bit of stray fur from her cheek. "Hey, look on the bright side. You'll have a warm bed, tons of food, and all the brushing you can handle."
Her ears flicked. "I guess," she muttered, but the faintest twitch of a smile played at the corner of her mouth.
I stood and wiped my hands on a towel, then bent down and scooped her up. She gave a little yelp of surprise, but didn't struggle—just nestled into my chest, her fur warm against my shirt.
The stairs creaked as I carried her up from the bath area in the basement, the dim light of the lantern swaying in my hand. The cottage was quiet except for the soft patter of rain outside and the faint sound of her breathing.
When we reached my room on the second floor, I nudged the door open with my shoulder. The room was small, but cozy—books stacked on the desk, a single bed with extra blankets piled high, and the smell of dried herbs and candle wax lingering in the air. I laid Runa down on the bed, careful not to disturb her bandages. She blinked up at me sleepily, tail twitching beneath the blanket I tucked around her.'
"Rest now," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Tomorrow we'll see how the potion and salve worked."
Her eyes fluttered half-shut. "Lori?"
"Yes?"
"…Thank you."
I reached out and gently brushed my fingers over her fur between her antlers. "You're safe now, Runa."
She murmured something too soft to catch, then drifted off to sleep. I sat there for a while longer, listening to the rain and watching her chest rise and fall.
And for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel alone.