Art by PK-lovie
The fire crackled gently, casting flickering shadows that danced across Jihye’s face as she hunched over her tin bowl, chewing slowly. The rations were dry and uninspired, but food was food, and she had long since learned not to be picky. Her stomach rumbled despite the meal, and she pressed a hand to it, sighing. Across from her, a small pink flower bobbed gently in the night breeze, its petals catching the firelight like soft embers.
She watched it for a while, letting her mind drift. She needed a plan. Getting out of the city had been her only focus, but now the forest pressed in from all sides, quiet and vast. She was free—for now. But freedom without direction was just another kind of prison.
Valerian would send someone. That was certain. Her escape was not just personal; it was political. A fox-shifter walking away from his grasp meant weakness, and weakness was a luxury crime lords couldn’t afford. She thought through her contacts, filtering them by loyalty, competence, and most importantly, distance from Valerian’s reach.
The breeze shifted, stronger now, tugging more petals from the flower. As they drifted down like ash, something clicked. A memory. A person. A name. She sat up straighter, her gaze hardening with purpose.
“Of course,” she whispered.
She knew where she had to go, who she had to find. Someone powerful enough to shield her, someone outside the rules of Valerian’s world. The only person on the continent who could tilt the balance in her favour.
Resolute, she pulled her thin rollmat from her pack and laid it beside the fire. She fed a few more twigs to the flames and stretched out on her back, arms behind her head. As sleep began to pull at her, her ears emerged again, sharp and alert to the sounds of the forest. A birdcall here. A rustling leaf there. Her eyes closed.
Morning came slow and pale, mist clinging to the underbrush. Jihye rose stiffly, her joints aching from the damp. The horse grazed nearby, calm and unbothered. She patted it on the neck, then walked to the creek, gathering water into her bottles and letting the horse drink its fill.
She boiled what she needed, doused the fire with the last of it, and kicked loose soil over the pit until all traces of her camp were gone. Mounting the horse, she nudged it forward with her legs, and the animal began a steady walk along the forest trail.
Overhead, a buzzard floated high on the breeze, circling once, twice. Watching.
Hours passed. The trees began to thin; the air became warmer. Jihye spotted the meadowland ahead, bright with wildflowers and long grasses that danced in waves. A ribbon of the creek wound through it, sparkling in the sun.
She scanned the edge of the treeline and spotted a small hollow where the stream curved into the woods. Sliding off the horse, she led it to the creek and tied its reins loosely, letting it drink. Her fingers worked to rub it down, slow and practised. The animal had done well.
Setting up camp again, she placed a small box trap near the edge of the woods and then slipped into the brush, searching for leaves she knew to be edible. Peppery greens. A few berries. Just enough.
The slam of the trap snapped her head up. She broke into a run, and her form began to blur as she did. Fur replaced skin. Bones shifted. Her clothes fell to the ground in a heap.
A fox darted through the undergrowth, nimble and fast. She skidded to a halt near the box and pawed it aside, jaws snapping on the rabbit inside. A sharp crunch. Quick. Clean.
She trotted back with the rabbit in her jaws, pausing at the edge of the clearing before shifting back. The discomfort was familiar by now. Her limbs stretched, fur receding, skin reknitting over muscle. She crouched, breathless, staring at the rabbit.
The fox part of her was proud, the human part… less so.
She sat and began to skin and clean the animal with quiet precision. Once cooked, the scent hit her like a hammer. Her stomach growled, and her misgivings melted away in the face of hunger. The meal was the best she’d had in the past few days.
Full at last, she washed her hands in the creek and cleaned her blade before settling down again. The wind rustled the trees. Her ears twitched into being again, scanning the darkness.
Sleep took her quickly, but it did not last.
A crack. Soft, but distinct.
Her eyes snapped open.
Another step. Careful. Deliberate.
She waited. Tense. Calculating.
The intruder moved close enough. She sprang to her feet in one motion, grabbing the figure and slamming it against a tree. Her ears flattened and vanished in the blink of an eye.
The man didn’t flinch.
Leather armour. A dark cape. Pale eyes that watched her with calm interest.
“You should let me go,” he said mildly.
“Why?” she snarled. “Give me one good reason.”
He vanished.
Jihye turned instantly, placing her back to the tree just as he reappeared in front of her.
“That,” he said. “Is one.”
Her fists clenched. “Who are you?”
“You came far to be seen. And transforming so near to where your enemies hunt? Not wise, Jihye.”
Her name on his lips made her skin crawl.
“People are coming,” he warned. “More than you can outrun.”
She glared, eyes burning in the firelight.
“I can help you,” he said, voice softer now. “But only if you let me.”
He extended a hand.
She didn’t take it.
An arrow tore past them, burying itself in the tree behind Jihye. The man didn’t flinch.
“Caleb! The horse!” he shouted.
A boy burst from the trees, grabbed the reins, and leapt onto the horse. He kicked it into a gallop and was gone.
The man turned, wrapped his arm around Jihye’s waist, and grabbed her hand and her bag in one sweeping movement.
There was a flash of light.
When the forest vanished, they stood on cold flagstone. A wide chamber stretched around them, lit by floating orbs of pale light. Stone columns rose into darkness.