Feydian didn’t know what happened. The light had nearly blinded him, even through his eyelids, and he was blinking spots from his vision just to see. As far as he could tell, the shamblers were stumbling away, including the vicious demon horse that had wanted his blood. It lowered its head, shaking it violently to try and clear its own vision.

  A tug at his sleeve jerked Feydian from his confusion. The boy was already on his feet and pulling him away.

  “Come on, mister! We have to get out of here!”

  The servant let himself get pulled to his feet and the two began running, even though he didn’t have much hope. He regretted just about every thing he’d done that day, all the way back to waking up. What was he doing trying to save a child from harm? He was no hero; he was just a servant! This was the very last time he would let his fear of being mocked outweigh his fear of monsters looking to eat him. He was such a fool for even getting himself into this mess in the first place.

  “Where are you from, sir?” the kid asked, hope filling his eyes. “Do you have magic?”

  Feydian shook his head sadly. “No. I’m just Lord Pelslow’s manservant.”

  The kid’s shoulders deflated and disappointment filled his gaze. Feydian didn’t judge him for that. He’d be disappointed, too, if he’d been rescued by a simple servant with no skills to devote to the rescue. The odds were still very good that both of them would die before making it off the farm, let alone making it back to town.

  “Uh, what’s your name?” he asked. That was what people were supposed to ask children in crisis, right? Details about them as a distraction?”

  “Jaden Ritia, sir.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m—”

  The horse unleashed a furious scream. Feydian cast a glance back, only to see that its gaze was pinned firmly on them once more. The lesser shamblers might have been blocked by the strange light, but that horse wanted blood.

  It charged, and to his horror, Feydian let out a yelp of terror. He pushed the kid ahead, trying to at least reach the tree line before they were mauled by a feral equine. That hope quickly died as its hooves shook the earth. No man could ever hope to outrun a horse.

  Steel flashed, and the horse screeched. Feydian glanced back and tripped over his own feet in doing so. A strange black flame spread over the horse, drawing its energy out to be consumed by the person that stood between him and the threat.

  He’s caitkin? Feydian wondered, seeing the feline tail lashing side to side behind the man.

  From this angle, he couldn’t see the man’s face, but he could see the claws that tipped his carefully wrapped fingers, as well as the black cat ears perched on his head. Though he wore a leather hunting vest, he carried a long, two-handed sword.

  “Are you alright, fey?” the man asked in a voice which was lightly accented by the fangs in his mouth.

  Feydian tried not to flinch at the assumption of his race, and just stood. He brushed the dirt from him, while the kid practically hid behind him.

  “I’m fine, but I’m human, not fey,” he corrected. “Thank you for saving us.”

  “Only thank me when the creature has hit the ground,” the cait said.

  Taking a risk, the servant peered around the man to see the horse. It had fallen to its knees, the life energy nearly completely drained. The last drops were pulled out to join a dark orb of black and gray that swirled in the air above. Once it was completely dead, the cait stepped forward, examining the orb.

  “You ever seen something like this before?” asked the cait, turning to face Feydian and his charge. He was quite handsome, even with the stripes on the sides of his face and yellow cat-eyes. Had he been human, Feydian was sure his looks would have threatened several of the eligible noblemen back in the capital. But, with the kingdom’s stance on monsters, he knew that would never be possible.

  He shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “Ha! ‘Sir.’” The cait smiled. “You’re adorable. The name’s Tei’lian. And you are?”

  “Feydian LaVerre. I’m just a servant.”

  Tei’lian’s expression darkened slightly. “Servant or slave?”

  “Servant!” Feydian protested, though even as he said it, his eyes drifted to the side. When Tei’lian raised a questioning eyebrow, he continued. “I’m an indentured servant until I pay off my debts to the Pelslow family.”

  “The Pelslows?” he growled, his ears lowering in hostility. “Tell me those worthless slavers aren’t back in these parts?”

  Feydian took a step back, bowing his head in submission as the cait’s aura surrounded him. He was so powerful, the sheer volume of mana was almost suffocating. To his surprise, a clawed hand rested beneath his chin, pulling it up until he was looking into those electric eyes.

  “Bring your child, Little Fairy,” he said calmly. “No man should be shackled to another. Where we go, you will have family, and never more shall the chains of captivity bind you.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Feydian wanted to protest many things about what Tei’lian had said. First, that the child with him wasn’t his, but just some farm boy he’d met in the chaos. Then, after that, he could tell the cait all about how he wasn’t actually that upset with his position as a servant…other than the hours, the name-calling, the petty nature of the tasks, the way most of the family treated him, the lack of pay, and the fact that he didn’t have much of a choice in his employment. Other than all of that, it was fine.

  But, just as he wanted to voice all those things, he felt the words die on his tongue. He just couldn’t bring himself to speak out against the powerful man’s assumptions. It would have been rude after he’d saved Feydian and Jaden’s lives.

  The strange man turned and cut through the orb of darkness he’d pulled from the horse. It dispersed on the wind, and he crinkled his nose in disgust. Without a second glance, he turned and ushered Feydian ahead.

  “Come on. The colony is this way. I can hear their song on the wind.”

  “Dad?”

  The gold of Samri’s magic flared brilliantly within my slime senses as hope resurged into his heart. The shambler that threatened the draken knight’s children fell, its head having been severed in a single blow.

  We’d seen the two children and Dorin’s cousin disappear down an alleyway across the street. Or rather, Dorin saw them through the windows. Arcane Sensitivity did nothing to help me see through glass. As far as I was concerned, the windows were as solid as the rest of the wall.

  As soon as we saw them, Dorin had sprinted to their rescue, giving me barely enough time to latch onto his belt before he took off in pursuit. Samara put up a good fight with her crossbow, embedding bolt after bolt into the approaching monster, but none of them did more than slow it. As we’d passed, I leapt from Dorin’s side to engulf her pursuer while he ran further down the alleyway to aid his children.

  Leaving Dorin to handle the shamblers at the far end of the street, I hopped to the last one bothering Samara. In record time, the creature was defeated.

  [Evolution requirement completed:

  Consume Human Body: 5/5]

  I finished dissolving its body and purifying its magic just in time to find a crossbow bolt aimed straight at my core. “Of course, just my luck that my enemies are defeated by a slime. Come on, you acid bastard! Let’s see if you can reach me before I put a bolt through your heart!”

  I didn’t dare move. The bolt didn’t look magical, and I was fairly sure that my slime would stop it well before it could even scratch my core, but this was Dorin’s cousin. The last thing I wanted was to be at odds with her, even if she was clearly blind to my adorableness.

  “Samara!” Dorin called. “Don’t shoot. He’s a friend.”

  “Dorin, have you lost your gods damned mind?!” she shouted. “It’s a slime! Slimes don’t make friends!” She never took her eyes off me.

  I raised a tiny pseudopod and waved it, as I’d seen Dorin do when greeting the harpies. “Hi. My name is Suri. I’m a friend.”

  “Suri?” Samara frowned, clearly recognizing the name.

  A small head peeked over Samri’s shoulder. “Is that…Greenbean? Oh my gosh, it is!” It was only three seconds before I found myself wrapped in the cold, silver magic of Tanev. She lifted me into her arms and held me tightly along with some kind of toy dragon. “I knew you’d come back! Just like daddy!”

  No longer able to point her crossbow at me without hurting the little girl, Samara lowered her weapon and turned to face her cousin, only to raise it again immediately. Her eyes took in Dorin’s horns first, then his eyes, then travelled down his body to observe the hardened scales that formed patches on the outside of his arms.

  “Who are you? What have you done to Dorin?”

  “Aunt Samara? What are you doing?” Samri asked.

  She backed away from Dorin. “Get behind me, Samri. Tanev, put the slime down.”

  “Samara,” Dorin began. “Put the crossbow down.”

  “Not a chance. The Dorin I know is human. He fell into the dungeon weeks ago and died! You can’t be him!”

  Slowly, Tanev placed me on the ground and moved to hide behind her aunt. Samri, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle, standing resolutely behind his dad, even as he looked up to take in his father’s new and monstrous features.

  Dorin bowed his head and took a step back, leaving the space between Samri and Samara clear, should the boy wish to run. The knight’s face was twisted in anguish, and his flames flickered inside him, as if they’d been left out in a storm. In truth, I didn’t blame him. For all the delight I had for Tanev’s greeting, the way she hid from me behind Samara’s leg was enough to make my core ache.

  “Samara.” Dorin’s voice cracked with a grief that was too much for my tiny core to bear any longer.

  “It was me!” I interrupted. “I turned him into a draken.”

  Every eye turned to me, save for Dorin whose eyes drifted to the cobblestones. My slime quivered, and I made myself small. I wanted a wall-crack, or a boulder, or anything that could hide me from their judgement.

  “I…I just wanted to save him.” The words were so quiet they were scarcely louder than a whisper.

  “You made him draken,” repeated Samara. “You twisted his body and made him your slave?!”

  Water began to leak from her eyes, but she took a hand from her weapon just long enough to wipe it away. She shook her hand, spraying the few tiny droplets onto me. I recoiled as the salty substance fell on my slime.

  “Samara, I would have died without Suri’s intervention.” Dorin raised his hand, palm out, towards his cousin. “He has no control over me, I promise.”

  The distraught tavernkeeper trembled. Her crossbow rattled in her hands.

  “That’s exactly what a controlled person would say!” she shouted, aiming her bolt at Dorin’s chest.

  “No! Don’t!” In a flash of gold magic, Samri threw himself in front of his father, throwing his arms wide to protect him. “Aunt Samara, it’s him! I know it’s him!”

  “And Greenbean helped us before. Why would he hurt daddy, now?” Tanev said, poking her head out to look at me.

  Samara’s eyes filled with salty water once more, but she kept her crossbow high. Dorin took a step forward, pushing Samri gently out of harm’s way. Never once did his eyes leave Samara’s.

  “It’s okay, Mara. It’s me.”

  “D-Dorin,” she sobbed.

  The knight reached out, gently guiding the crossbow downward until it was pointed safely at the wall. Without any further strength to hold her, Samara collapsed into Dorin’s chest, her shoulders shaking so hard I worried she’d shake herself apart. Through it all, Dorin held her close.

  “You’re warmer than before,” she said through her tears.

  He huffed, but cracked a rare smile. “Breathing fire will do that to you.”

  “You can breathe fire?!” Samri interrupted. “That’s so cool! Can I see?”

  A laugh bubbled up from Dorin’s chest. “Maybe on our way out, little dragon.” He ruffled Samri’s hair. “We still have a long way to go to get out. The guard are gathering the survivors by my forge. We’ll meet them there and make our escape.”

  “Escape?” Samara said. “Escape to where? Dorin, the town is on fire and our neighbors are trying to eat us!”

  “We could go to the colony,” I suggested. “High Ridge is defensible, and Dragon’s Gate itself isn’t far. We could take refuge there.”

  Dorin nodded in agreement. “It’s probably the only two places for miles that hasn’t been overrun.”

  “Then let’s go! We have people to save and shamblers to eat!”

  “Correction,” the knight interrupted. “You have shamblers to eat.”

  “Just make them crispy. It hides the taste of the ash.”