Sunrise was the finest point of the day. The magical moment when a flare of light emerged above the mountains and the sullied city of Pyronia for an instant became the shimmering capital of Empress Korlana's days, swathed in golden streams of sunshine. Heart swelling with pride for her heritage, Minerva would watch every morning, breathless, a deep longing consuming her.

A longing for something higher.

All too soon the vision snapped. The sun claimed the sky and harshly exposed the city's imperfections, where a moment before it had covered and beautified. Always, she stubbornly grasped at the receding image as it slipped through the fingers of her mind, already fading like last night's dream. It eluded her. When she was young, she had raged against the light's death, but now she only waited.

Waited for the next day's dawn and sunrise. And the next. And the next.

She stirred from her daydream. Though safer in the noble's precinct than the outer ring of the city, the residents of the many slumbering mansions would be waking soon.

Minerva stretched out where she lay on the roof's slope until her back popped. She sat up and came face to face with a smoky grey kat.

It blinked its large, green eyes at her.

Trying not to be obvious about it, Minerva tilted her head to peek around the kat and count how many tails it had.

Five.

"Fair morning, honorable one," Minerva said, using the proper address for a five-tailed.

Another slow blink. The kat began licking its paw.

Minerva waited patiently. Offending a kat could mean bothersome pranks and a ruined reputation among the kat community.

"I am Tamamo." The kat's voice brushed Minerva's right ear, a soft, feminine whisper. She spoke high imperial, the dialect of nobles with its lofty, drawling tones. Once a kat reached four-tailed, they could throw their voice at will, with greater control than even a skilled ventriloquist. "Why are you on my roof?"

Minerva stiffened as the kat walked over to rub up against her. Tamamo's fluffy tails tickled her under the nose. "My apologies," Minerva replied, fighting back a sneeze. "I came to see the sunrise."

"And thus robbed me of my prime sunbathing spot." The kat curled up a few feet away, paws tucked underneath her. "Though I can see why, your skin is the shade of a dead fish's scales."

Quite sure her complexion paled to an even deadlier hue, Minerva feebly offered, "I can leave." She started sliding toward the side of the roof where the drop wouldn't be so far.

"Stay."

Minerva bit her lip. If this kat turned her in to this mansion's owners or the Imperial Guard ... Well, she just wouldn't allow it. Better to skin the creature and sell its tails on the black market—bad luck be burned—than let it blow her cover.

The thought made her sick.

She glanced back at Tamamo. The kat hadn't moved from her loaf-like position, except for a twitching of her pink nose.

"You have fish?" the kat asked.

Minerva sighed, reaching into her satchel. She then unwrapped the furoshiki cloth that covered the wooden box.

Tamamo drew nearer. A purr of pleasure greeted the sight of the smoked salmon and rice inside the bento. "You will heat it for me, yes?"

"I cannot, honorable one."

Sharp claws dug into Minerva's leg. The languid look in Tamamo's eyes hardened to spite. "Do not lie to me, human," she hissed. "I am not blind, that I have missed your golden eyes."

"I do not lie," Minerva growled back. "I await my Trial of Fire, by tradition I must not wield until then lest I risk danger and dishonor."

Tamamo withdrew her claws, muttering about "human tradition". She didn't continue to protest, however.

Minerva set the box before the kat. Delicately sniffing it for poison—an ability granted to two-tailed and higher—Tamamo settled down for her meal. She doubtless did the same at some noble's table and the habit asserted itself.

"Why is your skin white?" the kat asked while she ate. A full mouth didn't impede her speech at all. "Has the sun withheld from you its blessing?"

Such would be the popular belief of the Pyros, who esteemed darker skin as it symbolized absorption of the sun's power. It didn't matter to them that skin tone didn't guarantee strength or weakness in wielding fire.

"I was born this way," Minerva whispered.

Kats always seemed to hold a special fascination for her complexion. Minerva had never met one above four-tailed who'd neglected to mention it. Even the mute three-tailed often stared at her in silent inquiry.

"White is not a bad color," Tamamo said. "It is like fine, pure ashes. I would turn white rather than gold if given the choice."

Minerva nodded. Gain their final, ninth tail and a kat would change to either solid white or gold. Along with it came the ability to grow to their giant form, as opposed to their regular three pounds or so of fury.

"I am finished and I thank you," Tamamo said, licking her chops. "You have been very polite, are you acquainted with one of my brethren?"

"Azuki seven-tailed," Minerva answered, gathering up the now empty box that had once contained her breakfast.

Tamamo purred. "Give him my regards, and let him know he has a nice human as his staff." She stood and touched Minerva's hand with each of her tails in turn.

Minerva inclined her hand in thanks. She couldn't linger now. The silhouettes of servants appeared in the windows of the next house over as they lit the lamps.

A sharp creaking to the north cracked the morning's peace. Minerva jerked her head up to face that direction, wondering what could have made the sound.

"It is the Wynter Gate," Tamamo said, as if anticipating the unspoken question. "My staff complains of it often. He mentioned just yesternight that his men stationed at the outer wall had espied the arrival of the Hydro Embassy from the north." The kat closed her eyes. "The gate needs oil."

Minerva hurriedly gave her farewells and set her face toward the gate. She wanted to be there for the High King's arrival, even if it took her in the opposite direction of the palace where she should be heading. The thought that the embassy came in her honor set a thrill in her heart.

Tamamo's voice followed her as she jumped from the roof's edge and took off sprinting. "If you should ever wish to use my sun-bathing spot again, you may."

Minerva pumped her arms and legs. The wind swiped her cloak's hood from her head, leaving her hair loose to fly behind her. Hot breath collected under her mask to warm her face.

Not many people were out at this hour, only a few servants who hardly spared her a glance, focused on their own errands and destinations. Seeing me on their roof would've been another matter. Minerva laughed as much as she could with her now lagging breaths. Her chest ached. The distance was great enough that she had to settle into a jog.

She passed stone mansion after stone mansion, each one with many tiers of sloping eaves. At this rate, they'd build to the heavens, each trying to outdo their neighbors with their nearly identical towers. The buildings in the outer ring weren't so different from these besides being in a worse state and constructed from wood. Stone's more fireproof qualities meant it was more expensive.

When a crowd ahead appeared, a mass of red like a clot of blood, Minerva knew she'd arrived. She slipped through the gathering of mainly servants, waiting when people shoved each other for a better position and taking advantage of the small space that opened up when they did. Shoving happened often, which meant she reached the fringe in no time.

What she saw startled her. Where are the guards? The escort?

Pyro resentment toward Hydros had peaked in recent years—a sentiment which disregarded the political alliance they'd held since the Empire's early days. Even now, the welcoming party seemed to have assembled more out of a grudging curiosity than to pay respect.

Minerva cursed at her parents under her breath. They should have sent a strike of soldiers at the very least. The next moment, she swore at herself for not doing the same.

Quickly doing a danger sweep of the rooftops, she worked to calm herself. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands. No point in beating yourself up now for not thinking of it earlier. Just remember.

A wave of clean blue and white broke through the crimson and black clothing of the bystanders. Minerva's hands fell limply to her sides. The rooftops were clear of assassins. These people won't require my help, she thought in awe.

The crowd stilled until the jangle of the toka's harnesses and their snorting could be heard. Unlike Pyro black mounts, the Hydro's were a milky white, coats shaggy and covering even their eyes. Thick horns curled in spirals instead of curving, tufted ears poking through. As they neared, Minerva could tell they were also taller. Their riders sat three or four feet above the heads of the throng, in elegantly worked saddles.

Their High King led them. Though he wore no crown, Minerva knew. He possessed the presence belonging to authority, the others who followed unconsciously deferring. Most of them had white hair. Strange when not many of them appeared old.

Nola's hair had turned white, but she was ancient.

The bodies around Minerva began to shift, ill at ease. She could see why. The Hydros carried their weapons openly, as if going to war. Long, translucent spears glinted in the sunlight. One woman held a nocked silver bow, resting it on the fluffy skin draped over her lap. The Polaran King himself carried an azure trident. She liked his expression. Stern, even grim, yet compassionate.

No, they wouldn't be needing help from her.

Minerva edged backwards, ready to let the press of bodies swallow her up in anonymity. Before it did, she allowed herself to look up one last time.

She locked eyes with one of the Hydro men. His black hair was the shade of a Pyro's, but not of the same length. Wavy, it was only long enough to curl slightly around his ears.

Minerva looked away quickly, then back again.

He still stared, dark blue eyes seeming to pierce her soul. His toka walked on the side of the street closest to her. As it neared, the rider placed the spear he'd been holding back in the leather quiver at his back and took up the reins instead. His eyes never left her face.

I don't know him. He can't know me. Yet in his eyes, she caught a flicker of recognition. Minerva admitted her inability to memorize faces. They just didn't stick in the mind. But surely she wouldn't have forgotten meeting a Hydro. Not one with eyes that seemed to stare right through her mask, unearthing secret sins.

His toka slowed, guided by an invisible amount of force on the reins. Ashes ... he's going to stop.

She backed up faster but slammed into some brick wall of a body behind. The Hydro man frowned and opened his mouth as if to call her.

Blind panic kicked in.

"Never turn your back on a potential threat." Minerva's sword master, Matsudo, had given those words of advice time after time during sparring sessions.

She completely ignored them now.

Adrenaline pounded through her as she burst through the crowd and sped through the streets, any fatigue from the run earlier forgotten. When she reached one of her safe spots—a shadowed crevice between an overgrown tree and the wall of a larger estate—she dropped onto the ground, shaking.

Ripping the cloth from her face, she tilted her head back and just tried to breathe. She used it to mop the sweat from her face. He won't remember you. He can't recognize you.

Oh, but he could. Anyone could really.

Her pale skin betrayed her. She'd been a fool for going in the first place, for being too enthralled with the procession to take care and keep her hood up and covering her face.

Minerva clasped a hand over her mouth to stop the coming scream. She couldn't continue thinking like that. Calm down. Deal with the problems as they come.

It took a long time until her breathing returned to normal and she stayed hidden until it did.

The knowing look in his eyes haunted her.