I was right to be scared.

I was straddled behind Kassie, sitting close with my hands gripping her waist. It was heavenly at first — warm and secure, her back solid against my chest.

Until the horse bolted forward with a speed that blurred the trees around me into streaks of green and brown. Almost like I was in some car speeding across open road with pure, unadulterated insanity at the wheel.

The difference was that this felt like a convertible. Wind tearing at my face, no roof, no doors, nothing between me and certain death but my grip on the demon empress currently treating this poor horse like a damn sports car.

She didn't stop. I had no idea how she was doing it, but the horse was burning with resolve as she commanded it forward — legs pounding the earth in a rhythm that should've been impossible. She was one hell of a rider. Not to mention her figure as she sat on the horse and leaned forward, red hair streaming behind her like a war banner.

I repeated again... she was one hell of a rider.

Morning came and we continued. Largely because we couldn't afford to stop. Partly because Kassie seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

We approached a forest where the trees grew together in clusters — a tangled mess of trunks and branches that twisted around each other like they were fighting for space. Instead of reducing our pace to carefully navigate through, Kassie merely summoned her sword and began to swing it on both sides with unbelievable precision.

The greatsword flew around in blurring crimson waves, slashing apart the trees that blocked her advance before we even reached them. Wood splintered and fell away, clearing a path through sheer violence.

But the clusters grew messier and denser the deeper we went, the trees seeming to strangle each other in their competition for light. Our speed was hindered. And eventually, we had to stop and continue on foot.

As the horse stopped, I simply slid off its back. Having had enough, I tumbled forward onto my hands and knees and emptied my stomach onto the forest floor while fighting a serious, intense, nauseating headache.

'Never again. Never, ever again.'

Regardless, we continued forward on foot, cutting our way through the clusters of trees. After a while — around mid-morning — we finally reached Mishard.

The place looked as though the forest itself was protecting it from outsiders. I could understand why it would be difficult for any bandit, or even the Church, to raid such a location. You'd need an army just to hack through the approach, and by then, everyone inside would know you were coming.

The town sat downhill, nestled into a ring of tangled forest. Several buildings dotted the landscape, built to almost reflect the disorder of the woods surrounding them. And in the center stood a temple — the other structures arranged around it in rough, organic patterns, like they were orbiting something sacred.

As we approached the village on foot, men in heavy but crude armor were already alerted, aiming spears and swords in our direction. Most of them looked strong — full beards, muscular builds, dark hair — except for a distinctive one with ginger hair and a ginger beard to match.

"Identify yourselves!" they commanded.

We stopped.

Kassie tightened her grip on her sword. No one else noticed the movement, but I paid too much attention to her not to see it. The slight shift in her stance. The way her fingers curled just a little tighter around the hilt.

"Calm down, men." The ginger-haired man stepped forward slowly. He had no weapon, but stood before us with a confidence that didn't even come from his eyes — it came from somewhere deeper. Something settled and immovable.

His hands were tugging absently at the collar of his armor. A lackadaisical, easy posture to adopt in front of outsiders. In front of potential enemies. Yet his entire carriage uttered a single message: 'You can burn the town down for all I care. All I want is a smoke.'

"So... Levi's people?"

Nisha looked at him and nodded.

His gaze shifted naturally towards me. Then he let out a scoff.

"Huh. The Burner boy."

'The what now?'

That... that was new. And not the good kind of new. The kind of new that meant people were talking about me. The kind of new that meant I had a 'reputation'.

"Follow me." He turned back, tapping one of the soldiers on the shoulder as he passed them. "Good work, guys."

I followed cautiously, eyes darting around with barely contained wariness. Nisha and Octavia seemed calm enough. Kassie, of course... if calm had a name, it would be her. But I was baffled by the difference in authority here. The other soldiers didn't look like they'd accepted us in — they looked like there was nothing they could do about it.

Which baffled me even more.

Nisha walked beside the man as we moved through the fields, getting closer to the town proper.

"Is the boss around?"

"Yes, came yesterday. According to them, you should've been here with the supplies... around three, four days ago. I think that's about the time it was expected?"

Nisha responded with a grim tone. "We had complications."

He spared her a glance, a small smile playing at his lips. "Complications, huh? How bad?"

"You wouldn't survive it," she said matter-of-factly.

He was silent for a moment as we walked. Then he plucked a flower from one of the tall plants we passed, putting its thin stem between his lips and rolling it there as we approached the arching wooden gate. The sign above read in native Sol'Aethric: Mishard.

As we entered the town, I dismissed Kassie.

Unlike Rivermarrow, this place had cobblestone streets. There were people everywhere — supply wagons rolling past, carts set up on either side with women holding their children while browsing the goods on display. The smell of fresh bread drifted from somewhere nearby, mixing with woodsmoke and the earthier scent of livestock.

Watching it all filled me with the desperate need to leave.

'Don't stay. Don't linger. Every hour you're here is another hour they're in danger.'

Because I didn't want to be here when the Church came looking. I didn't want to be the cause of their deaths.

The man led us to an inn — magnificently built with wood, like everything else in Mishard — after about three turns through the winding streets. All the buildings here carried a certain medieval beauty in their architecture, handcrafted and weathered and real.

It was like stepping into the pages of history.

We entered the inn, passed through a backdoor behind the bar, and went upstairs. The floor creaked beneath our feet as we walked the upper hall. Finally, the ginger-haired man stopped in front of a door and looked back at us.

"We don't get visitors. But there's no saying... those people are unpredictable. If they have someone who can sneak into this town, it'll be on you to stay careful."

He looked at Nisha. "Tell Levi I don't wish to see his face for two years. Two years before he ever dares show up in front of me again."

I watched him walk away. Simultaneously, Nisha knocked on the door.

It opened immediately.

A white-haired man with half-lidded blue eyes stood in the doorway. He looked at Nisha first.

"Nisha."

Then his gaze shifted to me, a somber smile crossing his features.

"Otherworlder."

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