With the encroaching unknown, they moved away from the cart. The horses were already spooked, even with nothing in sight, and they couldn’t risk them bolting—or worse, being struck down by a monster they couldn’t see.
Nina pulsed the earth again and shot up pillars of rock, trying to hit it. The first was a lucky strike but didn’t pierce—it only shoved the creature. Yet all anyone could see were jagged stones jutting from the ground, slowly getting closer.
“I see it… I think,” Rel said, sounding unsure. He rushed toward the rocks, swinging but hitting air before jerking back and ducking between the stone pillars Nina had formed for cover. One of them smashed down, proving that even unseen, the threat was real.
Tidus tried to help, sensing the wind to guide a blind strike. A solid *thump* proved he was right, but watching him fly backward soon after showed the hidden snake wasn’t just waiting.
Nina built a rock wall to stop the rush she knew would follow. The slam against the barrier proved her right—it couldn’t break through. Tidus scrambled back before the snake could circle around, even as Relish did his best to track it with his fire sight, missing most strikes as the creature caught onto their patterns.
“IF YOU CAN HOLD IT, I CAN HELP!” Clover shouted, her voice desperate and edged with fear.
Nina wanted to tell her not to bother—*what can you do but risk yourself?* But then she remembered: Leena may have defeated the ogre alone, but before that, they’d won as a team against many other monsters.
She pulsed the earth again, getting a clear picture. The snake was coiling to spring on Tidus, who was still trying to sense it with his air magic.
A giant stone hand flowed from the earth and grasped downward. The snake saw the motion and tried to spring early, but she managed to catch it with the hand, then formed two more to hold its head. The body still thrashed, hard to control.
Clover saw the stone hands holding empty air and rushed forward. She placed her hands on the space near the grasping stone, and a moment later, a massive, thick snake appeared, thrashing. It knocked Clover back—more stunned than hurt—and finally wriggled free from Nina’s stone grip.
But now, it seemed it couldn’t disappear. It turned on Clover, as if sure she was the cause. Nina built more walls, blocking its line of sight. It looked ready to go over them, but a fist slammed into its side.
Tidus, now able to see it, struck true. Relish followed up. It became a tense dance—strikes almost faster than they could see, dodges fueled by fear—but the snake’s stamina wasn’t limitless. Slowly, each lunge grew weaker, more desperate, until the snake finally fell to their combined force. A battle that had started like an ambush ended like a sprint.
It seemed the snake’s power lay in ambush, not prolonged combat. Once forced into the open, it had no counter.
Tidus identified it as a constrictor type—easy for it to snare prey near the lake when it could hide. Relish cared more about its massive size—easily over two thousand pounds—and boasted about feeding the tribe for a week. They’d have to take turns dragging part of it back, even if it couldn’t all fit in the cart.
The real prize was the shells. Yet Nina saw nothing. She pulsed the earth again and found them—four, nestled in the lakebed. So few? She knew they were sacred but had assumed there’d be a large number people didn’t want touched, not so few.
“We got lucky. Usually there’s only one or two,” Clover said, watching the lake.
“Are there more places we can go if needed?” Nina asked, unsure if this would be enough.
Clover shrugged. “The ones I could find near where I lived have been gone for years. I did what tests I could in the past, but it always ended the same. Truthfully, I didn’t even know there were any at this lake.”
Nina used her earth mana to shift the shells to her hand. They were nearly transparent and felt fragile.
Clover was still frowning. “These are a new type. Maybe the older shells I saw were thicker and deeper in color. Or maybe they change based on location. I never figured it out—they’re too rare.”
“But they *are* the right shells?” Nina felt less certain without anything to compare them to.
“They are, Tribe Hero,” Tidus spoke before Clover could, surprising Nina. “Years ago, when humans helped hunt monsters in the plains, they took some of these shells. They looked similar to these. I was a young cub then—didn’t get to see the battles, but I remember the elders debating whether to let them take them as rewards for helping us when we couldn’t handle all the threats.”
*Four chances,* Nina thought. Not a lot, but she trusted her brother to make it work. Smiling to herself, she felt even one would be enough for him.
***
The trip back was miserably slow, the snake carcass dragging down their pace. Thankfully, they’d left early enough to still have daylight. Nina wrapped up what needed to be said, resisting the tribe’s urge to celebrate—she saw only needless delays. They promised to send the shells with their fastest runner to the kingdom, easing her fears enough that she relented and let them enjoy the victory.
Relish boasted with nothing but pride, sharing the “hero’s journey,” while Tidus enjoyed the adventure. Both looked forward to the day she called on them again. Thankfully, they respected her desire to rest, and she took fragments of the snake as trophies.
Clover surprised her by choosing to return with her—Nina had thought the rabbitkin would be too afraid of being seen.
The cart ride was tense. Nina kept waiting for Clover to spring some fear or demand on her; everyone seemed to want to throw those at her lately.
Yet Clover’s face was downcast, her long floppy ears hanging lower than usual, near tears. Nina relented and rubbed her back—they were alone in the plains, and Clover had no one from her tribe to trust with her fears.
“Well, you’ve got me alone. Go ahead and talk,” Nina said, keeping her tone soft.
“I really did try everything I could, and there’s nothing more I can share,” Clover replied, a bit dismissive.
“So why follow me? I don’t even have the shells anymore—that’s up to my brother now.”
Clover shrugged. “Dunno. I guess when he fails, I want to know how to get the fairies back so we can leave here.”
Nina stopped rubbing Clover’s back, her expression hardening. But Clover never looked up, never seemed to notice the change. Nina let her hand turn to stone, watching the solid form—knowing, in a way, how Clover felt. But this was still her brother.
“I understand you did your best. But Wolf is different. He’ll find a way for all to be happier.” Nina paused, letting the words hang. “If you can’t trust humans no matter what, remember the gods blessed him with power for the same rare gift you share. That’s got to count for something, right?”
Tears slowly fell from Clover’s eyes. “Where I’m from, those I care about are seen as monsters. Not normal, like us.”
Nina listened, not prying, waiting.
“We have scrolls from the past saying wars were fought… theorizing that fairies were supposed to be a bridge to help the world.” Clover paused, wiping her face. “Then, just like they did to the others, humans hunted the fairies for power. And now you’re telling me a human is the only one left who can save them.”
“I didn’t choose this. The fairies themselves did. My brother didn’t seek you or your family… I understand your lack of trust and your valid fears. But remember, it was humans who welcomed me as kin.”
“And abandoned you,” Clover retorted defiantly.
“No, they didn’t. They’d welcome me back even now. I stayed to help those here. And you.”
“So now you’re changing your story when it’s convenient? And I’m supposed to trust they’re safe there?”
“No. Believe whatever you want. I did, and it’s how I ended up here.” Nina spoke carefully, realizing things were escalating from misunderstanding and fear. “But my brother has never done anything for you to doubt him. He didn’t even ask about me in his letter—he’s focused only on saving the fairies you worry he’ll hurt or betray. Maybe the shells will end in failure, but he’ll try—just like me staying here is trying.”
Clover seemed to fold into herself. “I’m just tired… tired of feeling like those I love live in fear of being hunted, and knowing they didn’t want me to leave… thinking I’m going to bring danger back to them.”
That surprised Nina—Clover had left that part out before. She’d defied her people to help the fairies. It made sense now, the panic.
“The day you feel you can trust me and my family, we’ll try to help your family be accepted by humans. I don’t think your race would be judged—you’re a lovely rabbitkin.”
Clover shook her head. “It’s not my *race* that’s the issue. They’ll be seen as monsters… trust me.”
*Seen as monsters?* Nina wondered. Even bear and wolfkin had never faced that kind of hatred that she knew of. Some kingdoms saw beastkin as lesser, but never hunted them.
The conversation stayed somber. They were at an impasse—until her brother found answers, Clover would keep fearing, and Nina would be trapped with uncertainty.
***
The tribe welcomed Nina back happily, celebrating her safe return and the rare bounty. She’d never had shadow snake before, but they promised it was a treat if well-prepared.
Upon returning to her tent, Rex was there—surprising her. She hadn’t forgotten the little furball, but after everything, he’d been an afterthought.
Her tail wagged in greeting before she called out. He seemed lost in thought, not even noticing her—which was rare.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m back.”
Rex looked up, not smiling, but nodded. That was worrying.
“You want to talk about it?”
Rex shrugged but smiled a little. “Being elder is hard. Everyone expects something, and then they usually just leave…”
Nina nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s how leading goes. They won’t just stay and talk when there are things to do.” She paused, wanting to be more encouraging. “So that means they’re taking you seriously? That’s good, right?”
Again, Rex half-shrugged, kicking a pebble away. “Only because the real elder was there. Any other time, nobody listens to me. Not even the kids like me.”
Nina embraced him in a hug. “Let’s get something to eat.”
He reluctantly followed. The warmth of the fire and the random gossip were a nice change, even if most of it was directed at Nina.
The snake meat was interesting—not a favorite, but a nice texture and flavor. She did her best to console Rex: if this was truly the life he wanted, it meant helping others forever, not just when it was fun or on his time.
She could see Rex still wanted to be a kid but also to grow up—a war within him. Nina worried he’d lose his childhood chasing something he didn’t fully understand. She tried once more to deter him, but he found his voice and spoke clearly, surprising her.
“No… I promised I wanted to make a place where you can be happy and others like you can be free. It’s just not as easy as I thought it’d be… If the elder keeps trusting me, I want to keep trying to lead.”
Nina smiled at how hard he was trying and kissed his cheek. “Well, kiddo, you’re halfway there by doing this. You’re my hero… Now just get to the part where you’re the elder I meet one day.”
Rex leapt up, full of life. “JUST YOU WAIT—I’LL BE THE BEST ELDER THERE EVER WILL BE!” He rushed off, yelling right in her face.
Nina’s ears flattened in annoyance. She was debating clever ways he could *actually* hit a rock wall when she noticed the tribe’s gaze, wondering what had taken place.
She waved casually, downplaying it. “Just him dreaming of being elder one day. We’ll see if he can commit.”
She heard the murmurs—*the hero approves of Rex as elder*—and grimaced. She hadn’t wanted to influence their beliefs, but sooner or later they’d find a way to involve her. Better if it helped Rex, even if the kid would still need to prove his words regardless.
On her way back to her tent, she saw Clover. The rabbitkin seemed a little better and apologized for her earlier mood. Nina dismissed it—Clover was trying, just as she was. She’d try not to judge too harshly when Clover didn’t share the same faith in her brother.
The glow from the light as she turned in was still a comfort. Nina wondered how long she’d have to stay to hear the results, versus just rushing home and not caring how this all unfolded…
Gently touching the light, watching the stars dance, Nina thought the lights and stars were probably what the fairies looked like. She hoped she’d get the chance to see them if this all worked out. And with that, she slept, dreaming of the life she’d left behind.106Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL97OeeS2qe
and then Add to home screen.