Kaya glanced at the food in front of her, then at the rain pouring outside. Her eyes dropped to her stomach, and she let out a silent curse. Great. At this rate, instead of slimming down, I’ll just keep piling on more fat. Still, temptation won. She picked up the food and took a bite, her gaze drifting back to the gray, shifting scenery beyond the window.
The days slipped by like that, quiet and steady.
One afternoon, when Kaya returned from an errand, Veer dropped her at the door before heading off to take care of so work. She stepped inside alone—and imdiately froze.
Right at the threshold, a dried leaf lay on the ground. Sothing was scrawled across it in dark ink—no, not ink. Blood.
Her brows furrowed as she bent to pick it up. The writing was clear, in English:
My na is Gracia. I am 28. I live in England.
Kaya turned the leaf over, searching for more, but those were the only words. She frowned, muttering under her breath, "What kind of self-introduction is this...?"
Before she could think further, a voice cut through the silence behind her.
"You could read it, right?"
Her head snapped around. The elder brother was standing there, his eyes fixed on her. His tone carried a strange certainty as he repeated, "You could read it. Am I wrong?"
Kaya blinked at him, then gave a small nod. "Yeah... I could. Was it you who put this here?"
He didn’t hesitate—he nodded once.
Then, almost as if he’d been waiting for her answer, he said, "I want you to co with ."
Kaya stared at him for a mont, caught off guard by his sudden request. Then her lips curled into a wry half-smile.
"Not interested. You can go on your own."
As Kaya stepped through the threshold, Veer’s brother suddenly blocked her path, arms spread wide as if to stop her from moving forward.
Her eyes narrowed, sharp and unflinching. "Step aside."
He shook his head, panic flashing across his face. "Please—please, I’m begging you. Just this once. I swear it won’t harm you."
Kaya’s voice cut like glass. "Are you certain? You’re telling I won’t get hurt because of this... thing you’re hiding?"
Without hesitation, he raised three fingers to the sky, his tone almost desperate. "I swear on the Beast God—I won’t let any harm co to you."
Kaya tilted her head, lips pursed, fingers absently brushing her chin as if weighing his words. Temptation flickered in her chest. That leaf... the strange ssage... Gracia, 28, England. England wasn’t a na from this world. Whoever wrote that had to co from the other one.
And if that was true, then this wasn’t just so random scrawl. It was a sign. Maybe even a clue.
When he noticed Kaya was still lost in thought, he hurriedly spoke, voice almost desperate,
"I swear on the Beast God, I will not lie to you. You know how sacred He is to us."
Kaya scoffed outright, her lips curling in disbelief. One brother who didn’t even believe in gods, and another swearing on one? The irony was almost laughable.
Not that it mattered. Her fingers brushed against the gun in her pocket, feeling its solid weight. Loaded. Ready. She wasn’t sure if she could take down everyone in this place, but one? Two? Maybe even three—yes, she could manage that. The thought alone was enough to steady her.
The mont her expression shifted, relief splashed across his face. Before Kaya could react, his wings unfurled with a sharp sweep of air, and in one swift motion, he pulled her by the waist and took off into the sky.
Kaya didn’t flinch. She was used to being carried this way by now, though her legs dangling helplessly beneath her still felt ridiculous. What unsettled her more was the ti. She expected a quick flight, seconds maybe—but minutes dragged on. Five, then ten. They weren’t heading anywhere near what she had assud. Instead, they curved wide, circling toward the far side of the mountain.
When they finally landed, her boots struck the ground hard, the jolt biting up her legs. Pain lanced through her knees, and no matter how many tis this happened, she could never quite get used to it.
"Look! Look—let’s go!" Veer’s brother tugged at her hand urgently.
Kaya bit back a snap, exhaustion pressing down on her bones, but she let him pull her forward. And then she saw it.
A door.
At first glance, it was nothing remarkable—just wood. But as her eyes narrowed, her breath caught. It wasn’t the door itself that unsettled her, but its fra. Entirely wood, carved with painstaking detail. Patterns spiraled into one another—delicate flowers, curling stems, and a ring woven seamlessly into the design. Not etched by crude tools, but by hands trained in a craft she’d only seen preserved in the oldest of cultural houses.
Her fingers rose on their own, brushing against the surface. Smooth. Too smooth. Not like the rough wood of the fox tribe’s hos, or even the finer works of the Nikala beastn. This was flawless—professional. Ancient.
Her chest tightened.
Because she had seen these patterns before.
Too many tis.
In places that definitely wasn’t in this world.
The next thing made her pause again.
There was no lock on the door. At least not where it should have been. Instead, she noticed sothing strange on the side wall—what looked like a naplate at first glance. No, not a naplate. Just a simple wooden plank fixed there, out of place, too plain against the intricate carvings.
She frowned. What’s the point of that? Decoration? Or...
Before she could piece it together, he reached out and slid the plank aside with deliberate slowness. Behind it, a square hole revealed itself—small, neat, almost invisible if one didn’t know where to look. Inside was the true lock.
Kaya’s eyes widened as he carefully unlatched it.
She knew this design. She had seen it before—long ago, in her world.
Old prisons.
Only old prisons used locks like these.
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