Hadassah looked at her new clothes and selected a gown reminiscent of the red robes Neveah and Zarek had worn the night before. Blood red, with silver accents. The dress was draped elegantly across one shoulder and under her arms, with delicate silver embroidery adorning the bodice and waist. A silver clasp held the gown together at her shoulder, while a gleaming silver belt cinched her waist. She was right; blood—red truly did complement silver beautifully.
That evening, Kaladin had knocked on her door and invited her to dinner. She, at first, considered it was dinner with his two students but was told promptly it was to celebrate the Vortigern’s return from the expedition. And so here she was, staring at her dress, wondering if something like this was good enough to eat with the Vortigern family.
‘This is ok, right?’ She asked herself as she turned, trying to see the back of her dress.
“Rahn, how do I look?” She asked the Harbinger watching her; he was sulking since she expected him to stay behind. She couldn’t risk explaining why he ate apples whole, like a horse. His sulking gaze followed her as she got ready, but she remained firm in her decision.
So he only huffed before turning away.
She merely sighed at his actions. Tugging at her ears nervously. If she had known Kaladin was this high in status, she would have used up more of his shells. What would a rich, high—status rabbit do with all those shells anyway? Buy unlimited carrots?
The rabbit ears she now wore felt strangely natural, though their floppy nature was harder to control than she’d expected. She had managed two neat braids at the front of her hair, hoping they looked sophisticated enough for the occasion. Her jewellery was minimal, just a simple armband. It wasn’t until she stepped outside and saw Neveah waiting in the courtyard that she felt severely underdressed.
Neveah looked perfect—almost otherworldly. The moonlight only enhanced her beauty, making her skin and hair glow in a way that seemed too divine for mortal eyes. Her long, wavy hair was threaded with strings of pearls, cascading around her like a glittering veil. Her lips glistened naturally, and each of her nails was hidden behind gold nail guards. Around her waist were tiny green and gold beads that shimmered like jewels against her perfect white gown.
Neveah turned to face Hadassah with a warm smile that illuminated her even more. “Are you ready? I’m just waiting on the boys; they came back late today.”
Hadassah swallowed her instinctual jealousy, forcing a smile and a response. “Where did they go?”
“They went to see the barracks,” Neveah replied, her voice filled with casual ease.
Hadassah’s face lit up at the mention of the barracks. “Do they train there?” she asked eagerly, taking a step closer.
Neveah chuckled softly, raising her guarded fingers to her lips. “I suppose you wouldn’t know, considering your… background. But Kaladin and Zarek, they aren’t regular beastmen.”
Hadassah knew that much—Kaladin was a Harbinger, and Zarek, well, she wasn’t quite sure yet. “They went to have a look around. I suspect Lord Vortigern would like them to train some of his guards.”
‘Training? This is our chance!’ Hadassah thought, her mind quick to jump to her next plan. Training with the Vortigern military sounded like an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. She kept her expression polite. “Do you think I could join them tomorrow?” She asked sweetly. Neveah’s smile dropped, and for a moment her eyes flickered gold.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Hadassah was caught off guard by her response. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, the both of you are ready?” Kaladin’s voice drew her attention.
Emerging from his room, Kaladin was dressed in formal armour, the deep reds of the Vortigern family paired with a silver chest plate embellished with a tribe crest that fanned out over his waist. The crest was that of a dragon, a dragon with its belly split from navel to chin.
His staff was still in hand, and though he wore no sword, he looked every bit the warrior. The sight of him, ready for battle, made Hadassah feel momentarily light—headed.
“If you keep gawking at him, your eyes will fall out,” Zarek’s unmistakably rude voice interrupted her trance.
She turned her gaze away from Kaladin as though she hadn’t been caught staring, her skin was thick enough to withstand the humiliation. Zarek, stepping out from behind them, wore a similar outfit to Kaladin’s, though his undergarments were black instead of red.
‘I guess they’re both in some sort of military,’ Hadassah reasoned to herself, hiding her mild embarrassment.
“Alright, shall we get going?” Neveah said, her beads jingling as she moved towards the inn entrance.
ˋˏ-༻❁༺-ˎˊ
A carriage had been hired to take them to the base of the Vortigern tree, and from there, a sedan awaited to carry them further. The two women shared one sedan, while the men were placed in another. Hadassah had never ridden in something like this before, carried by eight guards with an odd, mixed form—their hind legs resembled that of a rabbit, fur and whiskers sprouting from their skin, flattened noses, and larger cheeks, yet their hands remained human.
The Vortigern tree was a spectacle beyond anything Hadassah had imagined. It towered above them, colossal, with platforms of wood spread across various levels. Despite the presence of homes and other structures, the entire tree seemed to have grown around them, its wood forming the outlines of buildings and balconies. The walkways were softly lit by lanterns as their procession made its way through tunnels carved out of the tree’s massive roots toward the heart of the tree, where music drifted through the air.
“I should prepare you,” Neveah said, her voice breaking through the sound of the growing music. “The Vortigern tree is divided by class—the lower floors are for servants, and the higher you go, the higher the class you’ll find.”
Hadassah listened intently, already having suspected some form of hierarchy within the tree.
Neveah leaned her elbow on the window ledge of their sedan, her expression nonchalant, as if her advice mattered very little. “It means after a certain point, anyone you meet can kill you, so be careful—or stay in the lower levels where our influence can protect you.”
‘Kill?’
The word struck Hadassah like a blow, her breath hitching as her hands involuntarily tightened scrunching her dress. “What do you mean, kill?” she asked, her voice quiet but urgent.
Neveah raised a brow, her expression relaxing slightly in understanding. “There’s a common rule across the beast continent. Humans may have tried to erase it, but we hold firm to our roots. If you die to a beast, you can only blame yourself for being weak.”
Hadassah’s stomach twisted with unease, her heart sinking. “So if someone kills me—”
“—It is your fault,” Neveah finished, matter-of-factly. “So be careful. I don’t want to bury you in this ridiculous tiny city—it’s not befitting.”
“Right,” Hadassah murmured, her voice quieter than before. “Thank you for the warning.”
Even though Neveah’s tone was casual, Hadassah couldn’t help but feel a chill at the reality of her words. Still, she couldn’t deny that Neveah’s warning was well—intentioned.
The sedan eventually came to a halt, and as they prepared to step out, a rabbit servant knelt at the entrance, forming a footstool for them. Hadassah hesitated for a moment, then, with the help of a guard, she stepped onto the servant’s back. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the staggering grandeur of the Vortigern tree—its scale, its intricacy—every detail designed to overwhelm and awe.
The young ladies arriving from different entrances were dressed like blooming flowers—veils of gauze, glistening hairpins, powdered skin. Some carried folding fans, others held stiff little round fans. Some wore shawls, while others layered translucent fabrics that shimmered in the light. Women from all walks of life, from various cultures, had gathered, creating a dazzling sight. Hadassah glanced back, noticing that Kaladin and Zarek were nowhere to be seen. She reasoned there must be a separate entrance for the men. She took in the crowd once more, having never seen so many women in one place before—the sight was almost blinding.
At the far ends of the room were long tables stuffed with drinks and food, and stationed by them were half-rabbit servants, their hands clasped together and their heads bowed low. In each of the four corners of the grand hollowed room stood what appeared to be golden cages. Some of the ladies were inside these cages, and as they ascended, they passed through a platform above.
‘So, it’s a physical boundary,’ Hadassah thought, silently following Neveah’s lead. She reasoned that as long as she stayed quiet and didn’t disrupt too much, she’d be fine. The women parted to make a path for them, bowing their heads slightly as they passed.
“They are bowing to you,” Hadassah stated quietly.
“You’re stating the obvious,” Neveah responded without missing a beat.
“…Why?”
Neveah scoffed, casting Hadassah a sidelong glance. “I am a Seer. If not to me, then to whom should they bow?” A seer was the pinnacle of the heaven’s creations; even a dragon would need to reconsider before approaching them.
Hadassah didn’t respond, continuing to follow Neveah as they ascended through two separate floors. As they reached the final level, she made sure to keep to herself, not speaking to anyone. This floor had far fewer people, and unlike the lower floors, there were mixed genders present, it seemed like the separation of genders only applied to those of lower standing.
The first person to catch her eye was the woman from the war procession. She stood with another man who was her mirror image, both dressed in military formal similar to Kaladin’s. However, the emblem on their chest plates was not a dragon—it was a spider. Hadassah found it strange that the emblem wasn’t a tree, and the spider itself was unsettling.
It had eight limbs, but…
‘That’s not a spider,’ she realised. The emblem was of a woman, her belly facing the sky, her face turned toward the onlookers, with eight limbs like a spider’s and a singular eye staring out. Hadassah tore her gaze away in discomfort, not understanding why such a gruesome symbol was chosen.
She turned to follow Neveah, only to find that she had slipped away into the crowd, as naturally as if this were her own home. Hadassah froze for a moment, taking a deep breath as her eyes scanned the room for someone familiar. Her heart raced until she finally spotted Zarek standing off in a corner. He had a goblet in hand, a perpetual scowl on his face as if he were watching his family being held for ransom, his arms partly crossed in annoyance. Cursing her own lack of attention, Hadassah made her way over and stood next to him, keeping her distance and pressing her back against the wall. Her face was tense, as though she had decided not to bother him under any circumstances.
Zarek narrowed his eyes at her arrival but said nothing. Hadassah simply stood there, a few feet away, her presence quiet yet steadfast, determined to remain as unobtrusive as possible.
Zarek didn’t speak to her, instead focusing on the crowd as they mingled, laughed, and eventually began to dance. The dance in Vortigern beast city bore similarities to the one at the brown rabbit settlement. The rhythm and steps were close, though some variations existed, particularly in the timing of the spins. Hadassah observed the women, longing flickering within her, her thoughts drifting to the merman. His hair would look stunning under this lighting.
“Do you want to dance?”
A voice interrupted her trance, and she looked up to find Zarek gazing down at her.
“Ah, no, I’m not—” she started, but his eyes flicked downward. She followed his gaze to see her right foot tapping along to the rhythm of the drums. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she quickly stopped. “I cannot dance. I do not want to embarrass myself needlessly,” she said stiffly.
“I see. I cannot dance either,” Zarek admitted.
She stared at him in disbelief. “I grew up in isolation. What’s your excuse for not knowing how to dance?”
His lips pressed into a thin line as if she’d irritated him. For a moment, he looked ready to snap, but then his expression softened. “I never found it useful. Practising sword arts seemed a better use of my time.”
Hadassah couldn’t argue with that. She had often shirked sword practice with her father to chase after human artefacts, something she now regretted deeply. If she had known she’d end up living alone, she might have taken her training far more seriously.
‘If he were here, I would never have to fight. He would protect me.’
“Do you not care for sword fighting?” Zarek asked.
Hadassah laughed, surprising Zarek, though he didn’t find the sound unpleasant. “Now? More than anything. I want to learn, so I won’t feel so powerless.”
For now, she had avoided injustice, but how long could that last?
“Should I teach you?” Zarek offered, his tone a bit hesitant.
Hadassah blinked, taken aback by his offer. Was he serious? Seeing her surprise, his ears reddened slightly, and he looked away. “I respect those who wish to learn such things.”
“You don’t find my lack of strength laughable?”
“I do,” he admitted without hesitation.
‘Jerk,’ Hadassah thought.
“But at the very least, you want to change,” Zarek finished.
Hadassah studied him, her mind repeating Neveah’s earlier warning. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ She reconsidered.
Neveah was a Seer, and her words were not to be ignored. Perhaps weapons training wasn’t the best path for her abilities. After some thought, she finally said, “Can you train Rahn instead?”
Zarek frowned slightly. “Your friend?”
Hadassah nodded. “He’s obedient and will follow your commands. If he does anything wrong, correct him patiently. He has good stamina and strength, and—”
“Alright,” Zarek cut her off, agreeing without much hesitation.
She blinked, not expecting such an easy agreement.
“He should join us tomorrow, before dawn, at the barracks,” Zarek said, finalizing the arrangement.
A bright smile spread across Hadassah’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered sincerely.
Zarek’s body stiffened slightly at her gratitude, but he nodded in acknowledgment.
He opened his mouth to say something, “I—”
“Hadassah!” Kaladin’s voice cut through the air, interrupting the moment. He stood beside Lord Vortigern, beckoning her over. She hurried to Kaladin, trying to hide her bandaged hand behind her back. As she approached, she took in Lord Vortigern’s imposing figure. Though a rabbit, he towered over Kaladin and herself, his presence larger than life. His armour had lost its shine, bearing the marks of wear and time, and his long hair, tied up, still reached his waist.
“Lord Vortigern, this is my new student, Hadassah,” Kaladin introduced.
Hadassah bowed deeply. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She tried to be as polite as possible, but Lord Vortigern’s booming laughter made her glance nervously at Kaladin. Kaladin, however, didn’t seem bothered at all.
“Another one, Kaladin? Do you collect orphans for fun?” Lord Vortigern teased.
‘Orphans?’ Hadassah thought to herself, ‘I suppose that is what I am now.’
Kaladin smirked, clearly amused by the remark. “Only those who are spectacular. Don’t you think I have a good eye for talent? A Seer and a budding general—I bet you grind your teeth with jealousy.”
Lord Vortigern’s laugh deepened into something more sinister. “You bastard. You still haven’t tamed your tongue. I thought serving under the Dragon Queen would have humbled you.”
Kaladin shrugged nonchalantly, his smile growing wider, his eyes glinting with mischief. “It’s been a while, old friend. I couldn’t resist coming by when I heard about the Veres expedition. I’d hate to miss seeing you die a terrible death.”
The casual tone in which Kaladin delivered his insults made Hadassah’s pulse quicken. Neveah’s warnings rang loud in her mind, and she wisely chose not to interrupt the banter. More importantly, she was interested in this talk of Veres.
“You brat,” Lord Vortigern growled, grabbing Kaladin in a playful chokehold. “Who’s dying? This time, we’ll claim the inheritance.”
Once Kaladin was freed, he turned to Hadassah, who immediately straightened up. “I suppose you want me to take on the training sessions, then? See how many of the younger generation are ready to join the ranks?”
Lord Vortigern gave Kaladin an inquisitive look as he asked why he was saying something so obvious, and Hadassah quickly realised this conversation was as much for her benefit as it was a casual exchange between friends.
“Of course. Who better than you, the great general of blasphemy? My daughter’s been thrilled at the idea of meeting you. She even had new armour commissioned when she heard you were coming.”
At Lord Vortigern’s words, Hadassah caught sight of the white-haired girl from earlier, her face flushed a deep red as she quickly drained a cup of nectar. Lord Vortigern then glanced over Hadassah’s head and called out, “Verena! Come here!”
Verena Vortigern hurriedly set her cup down, straightened her posture, and approached with a composed air. The boy she had been standing with snickered to himself and slipped into the crowd.
Unlike her father, Verena appeared far more delicate. Her white hair cascaded loosely down to her mid-back. She bowed respectfully before Kaladin. “It is an honour, General,” she said, her nerves hidden beneath a mask of formality.
“Yes, yes, this is Kaladin’s new student,” Lord Vortigern added, gesturing toward Hadassah.
Verena turned to regard Hadassah with mild curiosity. The two exchanged polite smiles, but Verena quickly returned her attention to her father.
“Will she also be joining the training?” Verena asked.
Hadassah’s eyes darted to Kaladin, who remained still, offering no confirmation or denial.
“Of course,” Lord Vortigern answered confidently. “She is Kaladin’s student, after all.”
Hadassah kept her smile in place, though inwardly she felt a slight unease. She had thought the title of ‘student’ was merely a cover, but it seemed Kaladin had other plans. Did he always intend for her to participate in this training? Did he know she had been planning to go to Veres? This had long become one coincidence too many to ignore. She found herself wishing she could pry open his thoughts just to understand his motives better.
As the men continued to talk, catching up on old times, Hadassah was left with Verena.
“You don’t look like a fighter,” Verena said, her curiosity evident. “So I wonder what your skill is.”
‘I wonder too,’ Hadassah thought silently, maintaining her calm exterior despite her nerves rising in her heart. Tomorrow suddenly felt too soon, and not enough time for her to get her shit together. ‘This is what I need, right? I can’t mess this up.’
Yet no matter how she tried to calm herself, her stomach began to churn and she felt the urge to throw up.
ˋˏ-༻❁༺-ˎˊ
‘Can tonight get any worse?’ Hadassah thought to herself as she made her way back to the halls. After her conversation with Verena, a sudden wave of nausea had hit her, seemingly out of nowhere, and she remembered that she hadn’t eaten anything all day except for the bambara nuts bun that morning. The realisation that she had nearly threw up in front of near-royalty made her stomach churn even more. Not the kind of first impression she wanted to leave.
The bathroom was quite a distance from the centre of the tree, and she had to weave through several corridors formed by intertwining branches and pass through gazebos perched at the very edges, exposed to the rustling tree leaves. Now, on her way back, it seemed she had taken a wrong turn somewhere.
She was fed up with herself. “It’s one stupid tree, and I’m literally going to the centre—how did I get lost?” she muttered, her frustration palpable. Hungry, tired, and worn out from the mental exertion of keeping up appearances, she was ready to leave. Kaladin had grown too suspicious for her comfort, and the thought of training alongside Verena, who was leagues ahead of her in strength, agility, speed—in literally anything—made her feel utterly inadequate.
She briefly entertained the idea of smashing her head against the tree walls just to end the frustration. “It might not be too late to just run away with Rahn,” she mused aloud, but then quickly dismissed the idea. “No, that doesn’t make sense. I’m being handed a great opportunity. They’re going to Veres… If I leave, I’ll just get lost in the grasslands again.” She groaned in defeat, turning down yet another corridor, her feet dragging as she wandered aimlessly.
This path was different from the others—there were walls on one side, but the other side was exposed, just leaves separating her from a deadly drop below. The open air was refreshing, but not enough to lift her mood. At the end of the corridor, she spotted a platform with a gazebo, and there, bathed in soft moonlight, was a woman with a sword, dancing.
Hadassah stopped in her tracks, captivated.
The woman had hair as dark as night and skin as pale as the moon. She wore plain red robes, her cheeks flushed as though she had been dancing for hours. Her hair was in slight disarray, not even held up by a hairpin, as if she had been too lost in the rhythm to care.
Her sword dance was impressive enough to keep Hadassah rooted in place, watching in awe. She had never seen anything like it. The sword in the woman’s hand moved like an extension of her own body, flowing with each twist and turn. She slowed down for a moment, her two fingers tracing the flat surface of the blade before she spun—faster, and then faster again, her movements blurring.
The woman seemed out of control, her dance taking her dangerously close to the edge of the platform, where one wrong step would send her plummeting. Hadassah’s breath caught in her throat. If she said something, she might startle her, and that could make things worse. But if she didn’t do anything, the woman might spin right off the platform.
So, Hadassah did what seemed the most reasonable. She began to hum, hoping to break the woman’s trance.
The soft hum slipped into the night air, threading its way through the rhythm of the woman’s dance. At first, the woman didn’t seem to notice, her movements wild and uninhibited, the sword flashing in the moonlight with each turn. But then, slowly, she began to respond. Her dance became more controlled, as if the hum was pulling her back from the brink.
Hadassah watched as the woman’s breathing steadied, and her spin came to a halt. She stood still for a moment, the sword resting at her side, her back still turned to Hadassah.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, the woman turned around. Her eyes, dark and sharp as the blade she held, locked onto Hadassah. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The woman’s lips parted, and a soft smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“You’re quite bold,” the woman said, her voice low but not unkind. “Interrupting someone’s sword dance isn’t something most people would do.”
Hadassah blinked, not expecting that reaction. “Right, my apologies; have a pleasant death.”
The woman chortled in amusement. “I suppose I owe you my thanks.” She tilted her head, studying Hadassah with a curious glint in her eyes. “What brings you to this part of the tree?”
Hadassah hesitated, unsure how much she should say. “I… got lost.” Lost was an understatement, somehow the few left turns had multiplied to numerous turns in all directions. Hadassah wondered if she had passed through to an alternate reality.
The woman raised an eyebrow, her smile widening slightly. “In Vortigern? You must be new.”
Hadassah nodded. “Yes, I just arrived. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
The woman waved a hand dismissively. “No harm done. You’re right, I was getting carried away.”
Hadassah glanced at the sword in the woman’s hand, still gleaming in the moonlight. “You’re… very skilled.”
The woman’s smile softened. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since anyone’s watched me dance.”
There was a pause, and then Hadassah felt bold enough to ask, “Who are you?”
The woman’s eyes darkened for a moment, her smile fading just slightly. “Vivian. And you?”
“Hadassah.”
Vivian took a step closer, her sword resting lightly against her shoulder now, her spare hand on her hips. “Tell me, Hadassah, do you know how to use a sword?”
“No,” Hadassah admitted. “Not really.” If she could use a sword, she wouldn’t be contemplating an early death to spare herself the humiliation that tomorrow would bring.
Vivian tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting into something more curious. “Then, can you make swords?”
Hadassah paused, caught off guard. ‘Make swords?’ She took her time to answer, and then suddenly, a wicked smile graced her lips. “What kind of question is that, Vortigern?”
The girl stiffened slightly, but then laughed like a kid caught in a lie. “How did you guess?”
Hadassah shrugged, crossing her arms. “I highly doubt a servant would be out here dancing with a fancy sword in the middle of the night.” Then her eyes narrowed as she leaned against the wall. “And tell me, how did I get lost? There were only a few left turns back to the hall, and yet somehow I found myself turning right one too many times. Do I look stupid to you?”
Vivian smirked. “That’s a shame—you’re smarter than I expected.”
Hadassah scoffed. ‘Shame for who?’ “So tell me, why did you bring me here?”
The corridors had been confusing, impossible to navigate logically, but now it made sense. The paths had shifted. The only person waiting at the end of those endless turns was this woman, Vivian Vortigern.
Vivian’s casual demeanour didn’t waver. “No reason in particular,” she said, her tone light. “I just wanted to see Kaladin’s new student before tomorrow, so I know what kind of day to look forward to.”
Hadassah raised a brow. “You’re joining in the training tomorrow?” This training was becoming more interesting the longer she heard of it.
Vivian looked around for her sword’s sheath, finding it tucked within the leaves. “I should be,” she said, slipping the sword back in place. “Though, if anything gets in my way, it might take me a few weeks.” She glanced at Hadassah, her expression playful. “I was caught out this time, but next time I won’t be so obvious. Have a good night, Hadassah.”
“Wait, at least help me get out of here!” Hadassah called out, quickly running up to Vivian as she came off the branching platform.
Vivian paused, glancing forward with a raised eyebrow. “Ah, right,” she said, her voice teasing, “just go straight.”
Hadassah smiled, relief washing over her. “Thank you, also, for the sword dance. It was spectacular.”
A small smile spread across Vivian’s face. “You’re welcome,” she replied before turning back down the corridor, her figure soon blending into the shadows.