"I'll admit," Ilya said as he slowly painted Mishal, "I thought you were going to tell me about romantic troubles or something like that."

"Not 'we need to replace my queen and someone wants me to be the new one' kind of serious?" I asked as I leaned against the stall's counter.

Ilya laughed. "Exactly." The fyn was far calmer while painting, every trace of anxiety gone from his face. "I mean, that's a lot of stuff to take in at once."

"I can't believe I told you." I sighed. "I stopped myself from telling someone earlier because I barely knew them, and here I am telling you."

Mishal chirped as she looked down at the painting of herself, making a pleased sound. "I think she likes it," I said, sitting up straighter to get a better look at it. "I can't imagine why she wouldn't. It's gorgeous."

"Thank you." Ilya's cheeks reddened again, giving his face a sort of childish charm, as he smiled awkwardly. "I've spent most of my life painting." He sighed, the smile slowly fading from his face. "Unfortunately, there's not a lot to paint here. When you've painted one glacier, you've painted them all."

"It must be nice," I commented idly, glancing at the various paintings that were set up in Ilya's area. "Having this sort of talent, I mean. Ryns aren't exactly artistically inclined, so I couldn't even dream of doing anything like that."

Ilya set his paintbrush down. "Anita. Are all Ryns capable of combat immediately?"

"Of course not," I replied automatically. "We spend a lot of time training and- oh. You're gonna tell me that Moras are exactly the same, right?"

"You're very intelligent," Ilya said with a light laugh. "I see what Queen Galina meant."

"So you agree?" I asked glumly, leaning my chin on my hand.

Ilya shrugged as he went back to his painting. "I don't know. I think it's up to you."

"You sound just like my mates- well, one of them at least."

"Do they disagree?"

"Two of them do. But my Uncle Shurik and Mako, my best friend, they both agree."

"I'm not sure what I can say." Ilya shrugged. "I mean, it's going to be a hell of a time for you either way. But from the way you've been talking, I think you might want to do it."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

Ilya glanced back at me, a smudge of paint on his cheek. "You keep bringing up reasons why you should, but I haven't heard anything negative about the idea other than how dangerous it would be."

"A high risk of dying is definitely an important factor in my decision," I said wryly.

"Shouldn't Ryns be fearless or something?"

"Didn't we just have a conversation about stereotypes?"

Ilya laughed. "You've caught me! The teacher has been taught." He set the brush down again and turned to face me. "Anita, I don't know everything you've been through. I don't really know you well at all. But I can tell that you feel called to do what's right."

I frowned and closed my eyes. "What if I don't feel that way? What if I just feel scared?"

"Anita." I felt a hand on my shoulder and opened my eyes back up. Ilya was gently smiling down at me. "I'm not fearless. But when I do what I love, what I feel is right, I have confidence. Being comfortable with what you do is half the battle."

"You missed your calling. You could have been a fantastic motivational speaker."

Ilya laughed again and turned back to his painting once more. "You know, it's normal to be scared. Hell, my Trial pitted me against a Ryn. That's every Mora's nightmare. I thought I was going to pass out when I stood in the arena."

"Oh yeah?" I perked up. "Really? Are we that scary?"

"If I was to challenge you to a painting contest, and the loser dies, would you be scared?"

I glanced at Ilya's masterful rendering of Mishal. "To death."

"Exactly."

"How exactly did you beat him?" I asked as I stood up and walked over to peer over Ilya's shoulder. He wasn't tall, and my chin easily cleared his shoulder. "The Ryn, I mean."

Ilya sighed softly. "I watched. It sounds stupid, but that's how it happened. I noticed all the little details about him that I could and then just waited until he got close enough for me to counterstrike." He paused as Mishal adjusted herself. "His movements were stiffer on his left side than his right side, so I pretended to bite before using my tail. He moved like I thought he would, to the right, so my tail made direct contact with his eye."

"An impressive maneuver," I commented. "He must have been right-handed. The stiffness is from our muscle memory. When we use our weapons, we get used to using only one side."

"I see. Interesting. Why don't you become ambidextrous?"

"Ambi... what?"

"Ambidextrous," Ilya repeated. "It's- well, this." He switched hands on his paintbrush, using the opposite one to paint with. "I can use both hands equally well."

"Oh." I felt a thrill of surprise, the gears in my brain starting to turn. "Oh! If we learned to use both hands, we could all but erase the weakness that comes from using our weapons."

"Indeed." Ilya set down his paintbrush. "There. I have to let it dry before I add the finishing details, but what do you think so far?"

The canvas had gone from blank to alive with color. Red and gold melted together to create a breathing masterpiece, a bird cloaked in living fire. "It's beautiful Ilya..."

I suddenly felt a pang of deep sadness as I thought of the Mora I'd fought at my Trial. What was her name? Sophia? No, Sara. Did she create paintings like this? Was she observing me like Ilya had been his own opponent, waiting for a moment to strike? Perhaps I was just lucky. And I thought she was just weak.

"What are you thinking about?" Ilya's calm voice broke through my thoughts. "Your face got all dark and sad on me. Is my painting that bad?"

"No! Of course not." I forced a smile, but let it fall away. "I just feel... I don't know. The wyk who I fought, she was a Mora like you. I was just wondering if she could have done this kind of work if she'd been the one to live."

"There's no use regretting spilled blood," Ilya said. "Look at this." He brushed a strand of blond hair away from his ear, revealing a simple silver stud piercing through the tragus. "I wear this to remind myself about the fyn I killed. He ended up being the sacrifice that allowed me to succeed in life. That means I can't just agonize over his death. I have to live for him."

I stared at Ilya. He couldn't have been much older than me, maybe a few sun cycles, but he was far wiser. He gave me a nervous smile. "My clutchmates call me a romantic fool for this kind of stuff. I know, it sounds overdramatic, but I like it."

"No, not overdramatic," I assured Ilya quickly. "It's poetic. I like it." My hand drifted to my own ear. "Do you think... do you think I could do it too?"

The question escaped my mouth before my brain could process what I'd just said. Seriously? I haven't even thought it through! What would Dmitri say?

"Of course," Ilya said with a broad smile. He looked ecstatic and I immediately felt like I'd made the right choice. "But..." he gave me a playful wink, "I don't think you'd have enough space on your ears for all the dragonlings you've killed. I mean, you're a Ryn after all, aren't you?"

I couldn't help the grin that tugged on my lips. "Not sure what you've heard, but Ryns don't just kill everything that crosses their path."

"Lucky me," Ilya responded. "I don't feel like dying." His cheeks suddenly reddened. "Oh, I didn't insult you, did I? I just meant to tease you a little. I'm sorry, I didn't know if you'd be sensitive. I should have-"

"Ilya!" I giggled, taking his hands. "Stop. It's okay. I promise. You know, you remind me of my sister."

"I hope that's a compliment," Ilya said with a nervous laugh.

The comment struck a chord in me. Was it a bad thing? Mara tried so hard to make me feel better, even if I didn't appreciate it. Should could be talkative and oblivious, but she did everything she could to be a good person. No, I decided, it's not a bad thing at all. "Don't worry, Ilya."

"Good. Well, back to the piercings." Ilya began to pack away his paintbrushes and oils. "I don't keep any on me, but a friend of mine makes jewelry. I'll show you her stall. Maybe there's something you'd like."

"I'd prefer something simple. Like yours." I said, starting to help Ilya. "Just a simple metal stud."

"Thanks for helping. I think something with a sapphire to match your eyes, but it's up to you."

"I seem to be cleaning a lot today," I replied wryly. "But I'm not too sure if I can afford anything too fancy. My mate Alek gives me an allowance since I don't currently have a job, but I hate to spend his money."

Ilya beckoned me away from his stall before throwing a large tarp over it. Mishal fluttered, but seemed content to stay there and nap. "Gemstones are actually pretty cheap here. The glacier sits over a large vat of magma."

"Oh, I remember," I said as we walked through the marketplace. "That's how the hot springs stay warm, right? What does it have to do with gems?"

"Well, the compression from the glacier, paired with the heat from the magma, creates gemstones exceptionally fast. I don't know much about the science behind it, but there's a group of Liras who produce them in the enchanted chambers. That's how our colony attracts a lot of trading partners."

"I see." I paused for a moment. "So the founder of the colony really planned for everything, huh?"

"Yeah." Ilya stopped beside me. "... and now you're doubting if you can be like that, aren't you?"

"Your abilities are truly uncanny."

"It's all in the details, Anita. But remember, our founder had hundreds of years to plan everything out. I'm sure he made mistakes. He wasn't a god."

I sighed heavily. "I'm sure you're right. Let's go find your friend. If I stay away for much longer, my mates might make a search party for me."

"Must be nice." Ilya laughed as he started walking again. "My mate is in the Deepforest colony. We don't really talk at all. I'm not sure she even wants me to be her mate. But that suits me just fine."

I glanced at Ilya in surprise. "Really? I don't think I could survive without my mates, no matter how much they drive me crazy."

Ilya shrugged. "I'm just not interested in a romantic partner. Yeah, I'll have draggies, but I won't be the one to raise them."

"I think you'd get along with my friend, Mako. His mate had two little draggies this past autumn, but she's raising them with her wife instead of him."

"That... is a lot to process in one sentence," Ilya said, a smile pulling at his lips. "Ah, here she is. Valka!" We had stopped in front of a large tent draped in royal purple velvet.

A brown-haired wyk with freckles dotting her entire body peered out from behind a thick curtain. "Ilya! You- you have a friend. That's a first."

"You're my friend, Valka," Ilya said. "And this is Anita. She wants an earring like mine."

The wyk - Valka - walked over to me and brushed my hair back without so much as a 'hello.' "Let's see. The metal... Hm. Gold will blend with your hair too much. Oh, a pretty sword." She brushed her hand across the pommel of my sword. "Silver, then, to match this." She walked back towards her tent. "Come on!"

I stared at Ilya, feeling utterly violated. "Is she...?"

"Always like that? Yeah." Ilya gave me an apologetic smile. "I should have warned you first."

"Hurry up!" Valka's demanding voice called from inside her tent. "I don't have all day."

I found myself following Ilya into the darkness of the tent. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, my breath caught in my throat. Hundreds of pieces of jewelry were artfully placed across several tables, each glittering with gemstones.

"Did you... make all of these?" I asked in wonder.

"Sure did!" Valka said proudly as she opened a chest. "I usually make jewelry to order, but what you see is what I do in my spare time."

"Moras continue to astound me." I murmured, picking up a necklace made of gold and strung with ivory. Miniscule pictures of dragonlings were carved into the ivory, made with incredible precision and detail.

"Thank you," Valka said as she approached, several studs and hoops in her hand. "Now, sit." She forced me on a wooden stool, surprisingly strong her for skinny form, and tied my hair back with a piece of cloth. "Now, let's see. Hoop or stud?"

As Valka began comparing earrings and showing me in a small handheld mirror, I couldn't help but laugh inside. She was so different than Ilya, who was anxious but wise, with her abrasive personality. Yet they both were friendly and carefree, just like Mara. Was it a Mora thing? If so, I can't believe I never wanted to be friends with them. They're so nice to be around.

"That one," I said after nearly half a sunleap, pointing out one of the small studs Valka was showing me. It had no gem, but Ilya had talked me into looking at ones with little intricate designs carved into them.

"Finally!" Valka proclaimed in exasperation. "You didn't like any of my good stuff. I made this forever ago."

"I just don't want anything too fancy." I protested. "It's not really my style, and I don't have a lot of money to spend."

Valka sniffed. "That won't sell here, so you can just have it for free. Sit still and I'll pierce your ear." With one fluid movement, she produced a thick needle, punctured the tragus of my ear, and replaced the needle with the earring. "Done."

My mouth fell open as I touched my ear. The pain was nothing, just a slight sting, but I couldn't believe how quickly she'd done it. So fast and accurate... if she had been an assassin, I wouldn't have been able to deflect her attack.

"Good. You look amazing. Come back when you want some better jewelry. Ilya, it was great seeing you again." Valka said all of this while pushing the two of us out of her tent. "Now, shoo. I have work to do."

The entire experience was so reminiscent of my encounter with Jacobi that I was absolutely dumbfounded. Ilya was laughing all the while. "Oh, Anita, I wish you could see the look on your face." His grin slowly faded. "It's late. Your mates are probably worried about you."

My head snapped up as Ilya's words hit me. "By the stars, I'd forgotten all about them! They're gonna kill me." I hastily hugged Ilya before pulling out the map Jacobi had given me. "I'll see you later, Ilya!" He gave me a small wave before I darted off, following the neatly-drawn lines on the map.

As I weaved through the thick crowds, resigned to staying humanoid in order to use the map, I thought about my day. It had been absolutely exhausting. Had Dmitri and I really sparred just that morning? It felt like forever ago.

Yet had I come to a conclusion? Would I pursue Queen Galina's plan and fight to replace Queen Dominika? Would I even be happy?

I shook my head as that last thought crossed my mind. It doesn't matter if I'm happy or not. What matters is the good of the colony.

But I still didn't know the right choice for the colony, or even if there was a right choice. Queen Dominika was corrupt, but she knew what she was doing. I knew nothing. I barely knew what the role of a queen was, let alone all the duties required of one. Without the support of a Court, which I'd have to replace if all of them were in cahoots with Queen Dominika, I'd be a fish out of water.

And yet... I couldn't just leave my colony. Sure, I could perhaps run away to Kestreldive or just stay in Iciclecrash, but it didn't feel right. My mother may have been from here, but, despite my initial joy on arrival, I didn't belong and didn't want to stay. Alek didn't want to either, and I'm sure Dmitri shared our sentiment.

But they don't want me to do it. My thoughts turned again as I thought of my mates. Dmitri was very firm about it and Senya looked like he would have fought Mako if they continued to argue. But Alek... Alek knew that I wanted to do it before even I did.

I stopped dead in my tracks, causing the crowd to shift around me. I want to do it. Who cares what everyone else thinks?

My hand went up to touch my earring, the flesh underneath still raw and painful. I'd gotten the piercing without even consulting my mates. I'd always spent my time worrying about what everyone else wanted. But this is what I want. I want to help my colony.

With new purpose, I started sprinting through the crowd and towards the residential area. As the vendors began to become familiar, I packed the map into my pocket and shifted, taking off into the air as soon as my wings appeared. This is what I want and I won't let them tell me otherwise.

As I arrived at my door, I shifted back into my humanoid form and pushed my way in. All four fyns were still there, bickering loudly, but Liza and Gvrilla had now joined them. Six sets of eyes turned to me, but Dmitri was the first to speak.

"Ani, there you are. Can you please tell them you won't-"

"I'm doing it." I cut Dmitri off. "I'm going to fight Queen Dominika for the throne."