Morana passed the night more peacefully than she had expected. She'd sat up thinking over everything for several hours while taking a much needed bath and eating the hearty meal someone had provided for her. She supposed it would've been difficult for anyone not to relax when they were presented with such homey comforts after experiencing what she had in the past week.

The bathtub had been a large, round copper tub, deep enough that she could fill the water up to her neck. As the tub had been supplied with running water through a tap, she had done just that. She'd only seen such luxuries a few times in her stays with other families. Perhaps it was something that had once been common, but now was a rare commodity, as so many things became.

Morana had taken an ample amount of time scrubbing herself clean, even going so far as to pick the dirt out from beneath her nails, and cleaning her hair until her scalp felt raw. After all, who knew when her next opportunity to bathe would be?

Then she'd donned the soft shirt and pair of short, breezy pants that had been left out for her, likely by the same person who'd brought her meal. The meal itself was nothing extravagant, but it was delicious and filling.

There was hot fire-roasted meat and charred potatoes, as well as a leafy salad, two slices of freshly baked bread, and a small chunk of cheese. Morana had seen a decanter of wine left out too, but opted to drink water instead. She'd always tended to get ahead of herself when it came to wine, and she had no desire to face a hangover while traveling to Arcan the following day.

In the end, it had been a wise choice. Morana slept soundly through the night and woke just before noon. It was the noise of two people, a Human and a Fae, that drew her from sleep. They were clearing away her supper dishes and replacing them with fresh ones when she sat up.

"Lonan and Arlon will be coming for you soon," the Human woman said. She drew a neatly folded tunic from her basket and placed it on a chair next to a pair of pants and the boots Morana had already been wearing. "You'll want to take these instead of your dress. The terrain grows rough around Arcan."

"Thank you," Morana replied, swinging her feet off the side of the bed. The pair bowed their heads and left the room. Morana ate while she dressed. She found that the ivy green tunic fit her perfectly. As did the pants, which were a deep shade of brown.

On the floor next to her boots, she discovered a set of sturdy, yet pliable leather stays and matching vambraces for her arms. They provided her some additional protection without the bulk of armor, but she noticed a few runic markings carved into them, leading her to believe they bore a form of magical reinforcement.

She'd just finished tying her hair back into a braid when there was a knock at the door. Morana answered it and found Lonan waiting. His gray gaze swept over her and he gave an approving nod. "Good. I hoped they would fit." He gestured to the stays and vambraces.

Morana furrowed her brows and examined them herself. "You provided these?"

He turned away, beckoning with two fingers for her to follow. "They belonged to my wife. You looked about the same size as her, and I thought you might find them useful." 

Morana hurried to catch up to him and they fell in step together. "Are they enchanted? I noticed these markings and couldn't think what else they might be for."

"They are," Lonan confirmed. "You'll find them as strong as steel and difficult for any blade to penetrate."

"Thank you, but if they belonged to your wife, I couldn't take them." She glanced up at the male, but anything he felt was carefully masked with an impassive expression.

"Neriah would wish for you to take them. You have need of them. Besides, they've just sat in a trunk unused until now."

"Thank you," Morana repeated, unsure of what else to say.

They exited the house and headed down the street. Morana recognized the way to Rehema's home, which was already in sight. A silvery snow leopard was waiting on the steps alongside Arlon. The creature's form twisted into Rehema's when they joined them.

"Well, you look ready for the path ahead, although your eyes give you away," the Elder said. "I won't tell you not to be afraid, but I will tell you not to let your fear hold sway over you."

Morana pursed her lips, but bowed her head in understanding. When she straightened, Rehema spoke again. "Lonan and Arlon will accompany you to Arcan, but from there, you must go on alone." Morana began to protest, but the Elder continued before she could even form a word.

"Go now," she said to Lonan. "Set your pace to arrive in Arcan before nightfall. She will need daylight to make her way safely to the castle." Lonan nodded and Arlon shifted to Morana's other side.

Morana recognized the dismissal with some annoyance, but didn't raise her questions or protests. Instead, she offered Rehema a swift bow. "Thank you for your help."

"I'm sorry I cannot give more. Nepenthe protect you, Heir of Hadeon."

Morana turned away when Lonan touched her arm and guided her back down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, both males took hold of her. Arlon grasped her shoulder, and Lonan's hand locked around her arm. Morana tensed as a familiar tingle spread through her limbs and the village vanished before her eyes.

•༻☽☾༺•

The journey passed mostly in silence. Arlon padded alongside them in his panther form, leaving only Morana and Lonan with the ability to speak, and the latter didn't seem inclined to. His jaw had been clenched and his shoulders rigid since they left the village. Morana assumed that whatever was wrong, he wouldn't deign to share with her.  

At last, she could bear the silence no longer. Silence brought her own thoughts to light, and her thoughts tended to drift back to Koen, Vesna, and Neeri. She couldn't think of them now. Not with the grief still sitting raw within her chest. She could mourn later when her own life wasn't at risk, but that meant she had to prevent herself from thinking of what she had lost.

"Do you believe in the Sleeping Heir?" Morana asked, attempting to distract herself.

Arlon let out a faint chuff and Lonan's gaze turned thoughtful. "I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "Rehema does. Ever since I've lived in the village, I've known her to have a watch posted around Arcan for the protection of the Heir, but I've never seen them myself if they do exist."

"Then what do you think I'll find in the palace?"

"Answers, I hope. Answers that can guide you to safety."

Morana tilted her head, studying the male curiously. "Not answers that will lead to Astaroth's destruction?"

The male must know what she truly was. Arlon too. If Rehema was trusting them to guide her, and had trusted them to retrieve her, they had to know more than they let on. Especially given how Lonan had known not to let the other villagers observe her for too long.

"Astaroth's destruction won't come without a fight. I hope I live to see that day, but when it comes, I pray you'll be nowhere near the battle." Lonan fell silent and raised a hand, hushing her before she could speak. A low growl rumbled from Arlon and he hunched low to the ground, tail slinking back and forth like a cat waiting to pounce on its prey.

Morana crouched behind a wide tree trunk when Lonan did. He kept one arm extended before her, but his other hand fell to the hilt of his sword. The faint rustle of grass reached Morana's ears and her next breath carried three unfamiliar scents.

The Corrupted Fae passed into view moments later, two males and a female. They were conversing amongst themselves in tones too low to hear. Morana held her breath when the female's gaze shifted in their direction. The males carried on ahead.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Arlon's claws glide free, but the Shifter Fae held his position. He wouldn't attack unless it appeared the Corrupted Fae had spotted them. The female took a step forward. The muscles in Arlon's sleek black-furred shoulders bunched as he prepared to launch himself at her.

Lonan edged his sword from its sheath, his gaze fixed on the female with a warrior's focus. A disgruntled shout rang out and the female scowled with disgust. She spun on her heel and chased after her companions. When her footsteps died out, Morana released her pent up breath.

Lonan stood and let his sword fall back into its sheath. "There will be more," he warned. "Rehema doesn't guard Arcan without reason."

"Will there be Corrupted Fae in the city ruins?" Morana asked as they resumed walking.

"There might be, but they usually remain on the outskirts like our patrols."

Morana glanced to her other side as Arlon shifted back into himself and fell in step beside her. "Tell her who else she might find."

"Astaroth's Angel," Lonan sighed when Morana turned to him expectantly. "The deadliest of his Corrupted Fae."

"I thought that was Rhidian."

Lonan shook his head. "Rhidian is his Second and commands the Cahirim along with the one they call Gaelen, but they're both just his soldiers. When Astaroth doesn't wish to send them out, he sends the Angel instead. His targets never survive him."

"Those who've managed to catch a glimpse of him say he's beautiful but lethal, and follows his Lord's orders without question or hesitation. Occasionally, our patrols will claim to have seen him in the area. I've never seen him myself, but I don't doubt their words."

"He's probably the one who roots out our villages and reports back so the Cahirim can swoop in and bleed them dry," Arlon spat.

Morana stared at the grass bending beneath her feet, unable to meet either males' gaze. Corrupted Fae searching for her. Rhidian on her trail. Astaroth wishing to claim her power. And now some new assassin she might never even hear coming, if he was sent to dispatch or retrieve her. All because she was a descendent of Hadeon. An heir to his power.

Aunt Vesna was right, she thought dismally. My power is a curse.