Before Rey's eyes, the mysterious colors of the void he was falling through did not last long. Suddenly, light burst forth from the "nothing," and the glow transformed into an immense orb ringed by darkness. As his eyes adjusted, the boy saw how the gigantic sphere was outlined by a halo of light, as if the satellite were eclipsing a star with its radiant dominion. To him, although the temperature was compatible with life, the landscape looked hostile, and he was convinced he was about to plunge into a sea of blazing fire if he didn't do something in time.
With five unconscious bodies falling alongside him, Rey flared his wings in midair and resorted to frantic, clumsy maneuvers to hold them as best he could. He held his brother Jhades by the leg with his right hand; his other brother, Dante, he grabbed by the hair. He managed to get the smaller feline closest to him onto his back; the other feline, spinning through the air, Rey caught by the loose skin at its neck with his teeth, while White, the last of the three and his most treasured companion, he managed to seize with his feet.
Even though none of them was plummeting toward certain death anymore, Rey was weak, and because of the load he was carrying, he could no longer beat his black-feathered limbs. Like a bird about to crash against the waves of an immense sea if it failed to find solid ground, Rey was forced to glide, sweeping his gaze below as he searched for some safe place to land. "But does a safe place to land even exist?" he wondered. "The ground looks alive, like the very light that radiated from that sphere wrapped in liquid lava."
As he descended, the wind whistling in his ears, Rey could see more clearly, and that calmed him a little. What had once seemed like liquid fire now resembled a solid construction, and then that solid shape resolved into pathways that rose, fell, twisted, widened, or ended lost in the yellow glow. Everything grew more distinct: what had been mountains of different sizes were now made up of square, rectangular, or circular stone blocks stacked one on top of another toward the sky, like sharpened lances.
Closer still, Rey could see beings of different colors that shared similar shapes. They went up, went down, turned, or ended up disappearing from one side to the other in an organized flow. The noise—no, it wasn't really noise—sounded more like a melody that wrapped around and caressed the boy's ears instead of frightening him or bearing down on him. Within the fire there was an atmosphere crammed with joy, where music mixed with laughter and applause could be heard everywhere.
As he drew even closer, right on the top floor of the tallest building, Rey could distinguish countless people dressed in elegant garments, individuals moving from one side to the other as if they couldn't restrain themselves from enjoying pleasure. Relieved that he would not have to land in what he had imagined at the beginning, Rey noticed an even greater danger. Among the humans on the balconies, some clung tightly to the railings, while others were being thrust into, engaged in what is considered the art of mating. However, many of them saw the falling figures and couldn't hold back from pointing or shouting to warn the others.
Rey could see the panic on the humans' faces. As if, to them, whatever was falling from the sky—whatever it might be—was surely dirty, dangerous, and savage, something neither human nor elegant, a threat to the happiness they had managed to obtain. Noticing the hostile behavior, Rey decided to move away and continue searching for a safe place to land. He felt that at any moment he might drop one of his brothers, since his grip was weakening. He also understood that they were cornered, for if that moon was a body and they were entering it without permission, its defense mechanisms would make sure to locate them, surround them, and exterminate them.
Swaying from side to side, Rey dodged the buildings that grew more and more numerous until his eyes finally picked out a place where he could land. In the distance, he spotted an area that wasn't as large as a forest nor as small as a garden, but was clearly meant for public recreation. It was a park made up of numerous trees with graceful, low canopies, a smooth carpet of short green grass, a river of clear water, and several species of animals that lived there, wandering calmly through the open space.
Once he let himself drop onto the fenced-in stretch of grass, Rey, his brothers, and the three felines hit the ground and tumbled several times, their bodies bouncing and sliding over the lawn. Even after the forced landing, none of the unconscious ones woke up. That left the white-eyed boy alone with the responsibility of taking care of everything, his small hands trembling for a moment before he forced himself to move.
Rey understood that, even though he had the strength and the means to hide himself, his brothers, and the Ligres, doing so would only lead to them being found sooner or later and ending up in the same situation—or worse. Everything had been set in motion from the moment they were thrown into a world so civilized it seemed to be made of gold, crammed with the distinctive smell humans give off when they're afraid.
With capture as the inevitable result of the equation, certain preparations had to be made. Keeping that in mind, and with a great deal of effort, Rey dragged and arranged the bodies from one place to another, lining them up as neatly as he could. When he finished, he took a moment to kneel by the riverbank and stroke the neck of a white, majestic swan that also seemed worried, its feathers ruffling as it drank from the water of the river flowing under the nearby bridge.
Gradually, the commotion in the surroundings grew, and Rey noticed it by the muffled noise carrying through the distance, a low hum of voices and hurried footsteps. Choosing not to pay much attention to what was happening beyond the trees, he focused on his brothers and the Ligres. If something happened and they were forced to separate, it would be a bad idea for them to be too spread out, and even worse if they were left defenseless. Precisely because of that, and after letting out a slow, steadying breath, Rey decided to recite an incantation which, once completed, made the bodies of the three felines vanish right before his eyes.
"Becoming a sorcerer turned out to be as convenient as it is dangerous," Rey murmured to himself, his voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves. "Setting aside the almost unlimited magic I have in my hands, I have to be careful. I can't get overconfident and end up cursed like my master. I also have to avoid dying because I stopped taking the necessary risks, like so many other sorcerers."
"For now, for my brothers and for me, I cast 'Imaginación Des y Masterización,' so we can hide within ourselves these poor felines who decided to accompany us on this path, ready to lose their lives and become weapons. 'Conciliación de sonidos, presencia y aroma.' 'Nuevas lenguas de asimilación.' 'Sin daño letal.' 'Suerte de lado,'" Rey pronounced his blessings in a calm, deliberate voice, each word ringing softly in the air as he raised and lowered his hands in small, ritual gestures.
Then he thought, "I suppose this will be enough for now. In my current condition, I'm not at the level where I can do more without suffering negative consequences. For the moment, this is the most convenient way for us to adapt, survive any attack that catches us off guard, and escape if necessary. I don't think I'll be able to keep my eyes open for much longer, but as long as they let us live, we'll be prepared."
"Aaah… sorcerer," he chided himself in silence. "I went through the initiation process and managed to summon my master's book, 'Santuario de Atenas,' which is filled with spells, incantations, knowledge, exercises, and techniques I've memorized but, unfortunately, cannot alter. Even so, if I end up facing someone, I have to keep my emotions in check. If one of my energy vortices gets blocked, the others will start to malfunction and, eventually, I'll be exposed and vulnerable. Without internal balance—no attack, no defense—I'll be forced to use my core as a last barrier, and once that breaks… it's better not to think about it. Unless I fight someone ranked 'God' or higher, I don't think I'll have to go that far. I wonder… what is this exhaustion I can't fight off?"
After saying goodbye to his feathered friend, Rey drew in a deep breath and lay down beside his brothers, ready to surrender to the crushing exhaustion. Around the park, the guards and the authorities who had received the alert were already on the move.
According to protocol, every entrance and exit of the sprawling green expanse was sealed off, and before approaching the unidentified individual, they monitored him through cameras and the radars built into their sophisticated machines. The best news for everyone present was that there were no civilians inside the park. Even so, the cameras showed what appeared to be a "No-humano Cat-tres," naked and wild.
He was so feral he mingled with the beasts as if they understood one another. He drank from the same water and almost moved like the dogs, on all fours. He seemed not to care that his bare torso rubbed against the ground, or that he was nearly naked.
When they saw this, the uniformed men and women felt panic flood their bodies and covered their noses with a scrap of cloth or with their own sleeves. Fear twisted their faces, draining them of color as they tried to deny what was right there on their screens. Some had to sit because their legs simply gave out, while the rest stood frozen in terror, glancing at one another, searching for answers that wouldn't come. None of them could do anything but pray they wouldn't be the ones assigned to deal with such a "No-humano."
What if it was already too late? What if they had already breathed in its contamination? And worse—what if that unhygienic creature bit them? What if, by being bitten, they lost their sanity? What if they stopped being human and didn't even realize it? What if hell itself took shape on that moon, just as it had on planet Earth right before it was destroyed?
"Why don't we go to Roman?" one of the uniformed men blurted out, as if offering the obvious solution. "He's the king's right hand and he knows exactly what to do in a case like this. After all, he's the one in charge of the Non-humans classified as toxic by the system."
Some time earlier, in the world that never sleeps, the emperor of all humans had summoned a particular subject, and into the vast hall strode the solid, aging body of a man well past his youth.
Before the emperor—who had spilled every drop of wine from his goblet onto the floor—stood the summoned man. His name was Roman. He had a well-built body, gray hair that was slightly long, and light brown eyes. He wore long, loose garments that softened his imposing presence, making him seem less threatening at a glance.
"Roman!" exclaimed the sovereign the moment the other subjects withdrew and the doors closed behind them. "For so long I have waited to once again meet a friend as true and unique as my first true and only friend is, was, and always will be! Listen: in the not-so-distant future, in the face of any danger, he will remain at my side and confront calamities just to prove our friendship. Oooh, Roman, so many years have passed, haven't they? After leaving planet Earth, conquering this moon that is now a sun, and building my empire, I didn't think it would ever happen again, but I had another dream like the one before! Therefore, it must have the same meaning—or an even greater one—bringing about my will and no one else's."
"What was the dream about?" Roman bowed deeply before the emperor and lowered his head, intrigued. "Oh great and magnificent king of all humans, patriarch and sovereign emperor… if I may know, and if my question does not offend your excellency."
"Of course you may! In fact, I summoned you here precisely because it is relevant!" replied his highness, young and powerfully built, dressed in arrogant finery. His black hair reached his shoulders, his Sumerian-toned skin disappeared beneath a red cloak lined in black with an indigo interior. He had a ring on each finger, black trousers with red highlights, and matching boots. Around his waist, a long red sash was tied in a tight knot.
"In my dream, I floated through the air, embracing ascending stars and kissing descending clouds of fire. Black turned to white, white turned to black, and the gold and metals of my moon shone more intensely than ever. On the ground, there was a white star I could not embrace, one that had fallen from the sky without my noticing it—at least not until it shone brighter than any other. Like a massive burning stone, the moon refused to stay calm, and the lights of my empire threatened to go out.
"With time, its heat and glow, even high in the sky, became defiant, to the point where they made me tremble and sweat. I left my beloved ones behind and went to see it up close. In the dream, I shrank my body, and as I approached, I too radiated my brilliance and all my grandeur. The star that had fallen from the sky stood before my seven blessings, and they all stopped looking at me to gaze instead at the vastness of space, full of shooting stars.
"Yes, in my dream there were countless people arriving and just as many leaving, beasts and magnificent creatures, women, heroes, and battles. All of it took place in the space where I remained alongside that star that stood against me, all so it could be conquered. I tried to embrace it, to hold it in my arms, but the heat was so overwhelming that I had to give up. At that moment, it embraced me instead, and in its embrace I found the path to greatness. At the end of the dream, I fell at my mother's feet with joy and closed my eyes as she stroked my face. That was my revelation. What do you think of it, Roman?"
"I only asked about your dream out of pure curiosity," Roman said, dropping one knee to the floor and then his opposite fist, hiding his gaze as he answered. "Oh great sovereign and emperor of all humans, to worry about what someone like me thinks of a dream is like giving importance to the air he exhales. After all, I am not a good interpreter of dreams, your highness."
"But you are a god," he replied, his features shifting and tightening with anger. "In the books I wrote for the day my memory begins to fail me from living an eternal life with the abilities of a demigod, I set down the story of how my great friend appeared. When my reign was as sovereign and prosperous as it is now, the gods sent someone who could match me in strength and in my tempestuous courage. They sent a new hero. But… Aruru is dead, and so are my mother and father… that's why I thought of you." The king paused in his monologue and noticed that the only guest in the hall still hadn't raised his head, the way people hide their faces when they're concealing some version of the truth. "Is it that you don't dare speak or say anything more because you know that contradicting me has one consequence—heads rolling across the floor?"
Roman kept silent and held his position as the king walked back to his throne, disappointment clinging to his movements.
"I see," the king said as he turned around, as if scolding himself for not having a single friend in that world. "I appreciate that, as my subject, you keep any comment that might offend me to yourself if you're not prepared for the consequences. After all, no one knows better than you that before this king, someone being right doesn't truly mean they are right, not if they intend to oppose me and can't survive me in combat. Roman, forget my question for now. I'm assigning you to find the being they have sent to me and to engage him in a glorious battle that everyone will remember, and then he will become my friend—just as true and unique as the first. You may go."
With the king's permission granted, Roman rose from the floor and respectfully confirmed that he would leave the place he had been summoned to and fulfill the mission entrusted to him.
Leaving the temple, step by measured step, Roman could not shake a single thought from his mind. He couldn't move his mouth to form words; the grin stretched from ear to ear wouldn't allow it. It was the smile of an old demon. "Aaah, how familiar the nearness of calamities feels. After living so long trying to forget just to soothe my sorrow, this nostalgic sensation wakes me up once more. It incarnates in the present a past I still haven't managed to leave behind. No one knows who I am, where I come from, or where I'm going. No one knows—only him, the king of humans, who told me of his dream, of the arrival of someone exceptional on this moon, of a second hero." That thought stayed with him for quite a while.
When night fell and the shadows thickened, Roman reached his residence and began to meditate, his head held high and his eyes closed. Although this was usually the best method he had to cleanse his thoughts, this time he couldn't manage it. "Premonitions and prophecies act in mysterious ways, if history truly is destined to repeat itself. To change the false hopes of the needy, a dream can also reveal something that cannot be changed. And what if that's not the case?"
"Even if I am what I am and think what I think, my existence is eclipsed by a curse so strong it won't let me help myself. If I can't do anything, can my counsel really help anyone else? One thing is certain: the second hero will not arrive with a complete purpose. Oh, Gil, I was afraid to tell you that you were wrong because, even if I had, your arrogance would not have allowed you to accept reality. After so many years, it still surprises me that you remain so naive and ignore the basic principle that there is always an ending before a beginning."
"I'm afraid that, once again, my time to move forward has come… In this world of a single hero who does and undoes as he pleases like a tyrant, the scales will be balanced so that from the ashes of destruction a new civilization can rise. I wonder if, in the future of a new world, I'll be able to find someone who can help me change. Even if that isn't the case, I must not let my guard down, and if luck is just waiting for me to be careless, I won't give it such a pleasing chance. Be patient and wait. I can't help wondering if this hero really will fall from the sky."
The door to Roman's chambers shook under desperate blows; someone was pounding on it as if they meant to knock it down. The man inside did not so much as flinch, even though they called his name several times. He was in a deep state of meditation, in which, with his eyes closed, he perceived a world made entirely of flames of different colors, shifting with few variations. In that world, something forced its way through the darkness: six flames completely different from all the others. Of the six, three shared the trait of belonging to the same kind, while the other three were not alike at all.
"The moment has come. Unexpected… or rather, I'd say interesting," the old man said as he rose to his feet and opened the door.
"Sir Roman!" reported the uniformed officer representing the planet's security the instant his gaze met that of his superior. "To the north of the temple and the royal palace, the strangest creature of all has been seen falling from the sky. It has to be a monster or a non-human. My soldiers don't know what to do; they're trembling with fear and can only repeat that the strange being has immense wings that cover the sky from corner to corner, four human limbs and four feline ones, two heads and a single torso. They say it carried another creature in its mouth, one in each of its hands, and another between its legs. We don't know what to do, and that's why we've come to you in desperation."
"I'm on my way!" Roman declared, brimming with energy and resolve.
"But, sir… I still haven't told you where the reckless beast is," the officer protested when he saw the sturdy old man turn away and throw open the window of his room.
Without listening to the rest of the report, Roman jumped with the lightness of the wind onto the rooftops that crowned the buildings and apartments of an entire prosperous civilization. Over gold, silver, bronze, diamonds, and crystal, he bounded across those constructions, some no more than two stories high, others reaching hundreds of floors into the sky.
In that world, the roofs had no cables, extra structures, or anything that might make them look ugly. They were sloped, triangular, even spherical, which meant Roman had to pay more attention to where he placed his feet than to what he might crash into.
People watched the older man move from place to place and were not as astonished as when the creature had fallen from the sky. Perhaps it was because they were already used to seeing the emperor himself, sovereign of humans, offer the same kind of display of power as he traveled from one side to the other in ways few could imitate.
"A vampire, a lycanthrope—a werewolf—a flame I could swear I've seen before, and three felines," Roman thought in amazement as he leaped from roof to roof.
The souls he sensed didn't belong to an adult, nor to a beast or a monster, as the officer had described. They were bodies that could very well be considered very young. Even though, for the moment, they radiated weakened essences, those bodies held a fighting spirit inside them; they were wild and maybe not very civilized.
"When King Gilgamesh met Enkidu," Roman recalled as he drew closer, "Enkidu was the embodiment of wild life. After spending his whole life in the forest, eating as lions eat, hunting as wolves hunt, and fighting as bears fight, he became a man of solid muscle and a well-tempered warrior's spirit. Setting aside the fact that these kids are from another world, I don't think they're anywhere near the level they need to be, nor do I see much of a future for them."
When he reached the edge of the park, which had been fenced off by the authorities, Roman was forced to acknowledge that these were not the times of old.
"Of course," he thought. "What wild life can exist on a moon as civilized as Belldewar? There aren't many green areas left on the entire globe. How are these six individuals supposed to develop until one of them reaches the strength needed to rival the king of humans? This story is different."
Roman rubbed a hand over his head, worried. Without meaning to intervene too soon, he suddenly decided to wait before making a decision or reaching a conclusion. "If fate has gone out of its way to throw three little ones into a place like this, who's to say they aren't strong enough to stand in the way of adversity? In the end, it's like they say: a hero never dies—otherwise, he wouldn't be a hero. For now, five of them aren't moving, they're unconscious, and the last one isn't far from losing consciousness either. I won't have to intervene personally to capture them."
In a way, no matter how good someone's intentions were, the moment they were forced to impose their work to restore order, they would be giving a bad first impression. Roman preferred to present himself as a savior trying to help, rather than as someone who imposed order from above. In negotiations, people tend to agree to the requests of those who helped them at the beginning and reject those who only caused them trouble.
"That one with the strange soul is doing something unusual," Roman thought, crouched at the tip of the tallest building near the park, watching his targets until he noticed something out of the ordinary. "Did he just remove those three felines from this plane, the ones I sensed earlier? Only a sorcerer can break the logic of nature like that. I guess he's not as green as he looks. But I, more than anyone, know that Gil's impatience won't be enough."
Scanning his surroundings, Roman was able to make out the immense castle. Larger than any other building, the structure rose imposingly, so tall it nearly brushed the clouds. Only the temples scattered across the golden moon could compare to it in size.
"How do you make a wild beast civilized?" Roman asked himself with an ironic smile. "Looked at that way, I doubt that moving the plans forward, using methods from the past, would really be considered inappropriate."
The long-lived man with white hair knew what had happened in the distant, almost forgotten past of Gil. Following that pattern, the idea of what he needed to do to tame a beast came to him all at once. "What better way than to leave them in the hands of the right women? The ones who know how to use seduction to get what they want, and with soft words can change the mind of anyone who listens. What better candidates than the Damares, who do nothing but spread their legs and offer their bodies to any man, serving in the temple of the amorous arts?" Roman thought, even as he used a device in his hand to contact the people he had in mind.
"I need you and your staff urgently at the address I'm sending you," Roman said confidently as soon as the connection was established. "Bring a decontamination vehicle, some blankets, and come well covered. Use discretion when entering the area."
Only a few words could be heard from the other side of the line. At the end of his orders, the woman in question quietly confirmed that she understood everything in a soft voice. She cast a discreet glance at the staff around her—four other young women—and with a single look, set them in motion so their mentor wouldn't have to wait long.
After climbing down from the building, informing the security staff, pushing aside the subjugators, and taking command of the case—as well as letting them know that his decontamination team was on the way—Roman walked calmly into the park.
Those present felt an indescribable relief when they saw the right hand of the king himself taking responsibility for the situation.
Once he was close enough, and fully aware that he was being watched by countless devices, the old man took a pair of gloves from the pocket opposite the one where he'd stored the communication device. After putting the gloves on, and now standing within arm's reach of the three little ones, he proceeded to undress them, taking particular care with the one whose body was covered in beast pelts.
"It isn't logical for a sorcerer to have a warrior's scars," Roman reflected as he flung aside the garments no human should ever come into contact with. Then he took a small bottle from another pocket of his loose tunic and sprayed its contents over the clothes. The fabric caught fire almost at once, burning with a sharp, fleeting light until it vanished completely.
Maybe, for some, this would have seemed excessive, but in such a sterilized world it was dangerous for humans to contract any bacteria, virus, or parasite that might come with the pelts of a beast from another world. The immune system of Belldewar's residents wouldn't be able to fight off any illness, least of all a zoonotic one, since there had never been anyone who got sick from a bacterium or virus while living in an environment so sterile and clean.
"Your marks show how close you've come to dying. You, bathed in such familiar energy—who are you?" The question gnawed at him, and an idea came to him for how to find out.
Kneeling on the ground, Roman decided to use his gloved hand to discreetly lift one of the eyelids hiding the eyes of the one who was neither vampire nor werewolf. Unmistakable was the sharp glow of the whiteness that shone there: an infinite Pythagorean star encircling his pupils, adjusting perfectly to their dilated size.
Time stopped for the old man. His heart pounded harder than ever before, and his hands trembled with a joy like someone who has found a treasure thought lost forever. It was the first time Roman was truly grateful for having lived as long as he had, because even if he wasn't up to date on humanity's latest news, he knew that the one lying there was far more than the Hero-Slayer, the "Apocalyptic" who faced Yacer "De-Mars," or the friend Gilgamesh was searching for. The eyes of the being stretched out on the ground before him had been seen only twice before. The first belonged to "the creator of hell and first patriarch of the gods," and the second to "the reformer and judge of hell."
"Without a doubt," Roman told himself, convinced, "a warrior who will bring revolution in this modern age, one who will defeat the monster and claim any throne he wishes. Someone full of courage, who will walk with unshakable certainty and hold fast to the desire to fight for those who follow him." As soon as the dilated pupil shrank, Roman withdrew his fingers, letting the eye slide closed again.
For brief moments, Rey surfaced from unconsciousness only to sink back into sleep's grip. He was exhausted and drained of energy, even more than on his very first night of life. In one of those brief instants of clarity, he caught sight of white hair and an aged complexion leaning over him, a hand brushing his face, and for a moment he mistook the figure for Heroclades, his former master.
With little strength left, the boy surrendered again to his fatigue as his eye closed. Still, he'd had just enough time to recognize that this was not the man he thought it was. The dying youth was also happy to glimpse the not-so-small shadow tugging at the threads of fate, embodying wealth, good fortune, prosperity, happiness, and war. The same shadow he remembered leaving behind in "Tartarus," and which he already missed, since he hadn't been able to see her before leaving the Heavens.
Dressed in garments that helped her blend into the darkness, Edith Láquesis stood there. She wore a black cloak that flowed down into a long dress with long sleeves and a hood. Around her waist, held by a simple cord belt, she carried six blades concealed among her layers. The only difference from before was that she now hid her face and clutched, as best she could, a gigantic scythe in both hands, while draping her gray-skinned body in black mantles. When she realized she had been seen, she offered a small smile, raised a hand in a farewell gesture, and slipped away—though not before giving another lingering look to the figure who also lived in the world of shadows and stalked Roman's life, and stroking White, who had grown so much.
Time returned to normal for Roman when he sensed that, at the edge of the park, the woman he had called was arriving with the rest of her team. They showed their credentials to the security officers guarding the perimeter and, once it was confirmed that they belonged to the right hand of the king, they were allowed into the restricted area.
The old man stepped away from the three bodies and went to personally receive the ones he had summoned, who arrived inside a floating car. The vehicle was black—a color that, apparently, was reserved solely for decontamination teams in that world.
Roman noticed the change in the woman's demeanor the moment she saw, with her own eyes, how extraordinary the situation was.
"They don't belong to this planet," she whispered, her voice barely audible, after sensing the almost imperceptible essence of a pureblood vampire.
She had every reason to be afraid, for "purebloods" were nearly extinct in the universe. There wasn't a single human subjugator who didn't hate them from the depths of their being, or who wouldn't gladly give their life in exchange for killing one of them—their families, their friends, their acquaintances, and even anyone who had so much as come into contact with them. A simple greeting on the street to someone who had once said hello to a vampire was enough to earn that person the death penalty.
"The vampire or the lycanthrope themselves aren't even the tip of the iceberg," Roman said, turning his gaze to the one who was the real problem. "After seeing the color of his eyes, the shadow on my back started digging its claws in tighter, and my heart nearly skipped its beat. The past is reincarnating—but we still have to finish the job."
Roman and the woman in the cloak and hood also realized that everyone else involved was just as frightened. They looked around in every direction and communicated through gestures, signs, and whispers, praying silently to keep their lives once this job was done. To them, there were several ways to die here: one of those beasts might wake up and turn violent, as was in their nature, or some human might lose their head simply for not feeling safe beside someone who had been exposed to contamination from a vampire or a lycanthrope.
"You'll take care of the one who's neither vampire nor werewolf," Roman murmured to the woman in a discreet whisper. "Everyone's ignorance will keep them from paying much attention to the most dangerous one. Just like with the other two, you'll decontaminate him properly and make sure he understands there's nothing to worry about—as long as he doesn't expose himself to the sight of any human."
As they carried their companions' bodies toward the transport vehicle, White, Regres, and Leonidas recovered most of their energy thanks to the environment Rey was providing. Because of the blessing they had received, they could walk along the plane of shadows without anyone noticing them. Devoted, silent, and watchful, the Ligres drew on their hunter's instincts, padding soundlessly through the dark as they waited for the right moment.
Rey became aware that someone was carrying him—slender, delicate arms offering him a gentle cradle. The scent of that person filled him with confusion, because they were wrapped in a sweet, intoxicating, affectionate, and very familiar fragrance. It was the same scent he remembered from his mother. Wanting to see who was holding him, Rey tried to open his eyes, but the person who smelled like "a warm home" placed a hand over his eyelids and wouldn't let him.
"The darkness of not being able to see isn't so terrifying, not when the scent of the hand resting on my face feels this comforting," Rey told himself.
Just like Rey, Dante and Jhades went through the same process, except those two never woke up and remained unaware of what was happening as they were carried in someone's arms and transported away.
"I'm scared, Rey," White said in a worried tone, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger—because for all his desire to act, the little feline could do very little. "You're sick, defenseless, and the beings around us are speaking a different language. Two of them are really interested in you and your brothers; I can feel how terrified the others are. I could say they're risking themselves to help us, but I don't trust them… What am I supposed to do? How can I get out to help you if something happens?"
Rey understood the concern of the beast speaking to him from the other plane.
"Just stay by my side. Rest and recover your strength," he answered calmly in his mind. "If my life or my brothers' lives are in danger, you'll be able to come out automatically."
Relieved by that answer, White followed the advice of the white-eyed boy, though he wasn't exactly at ease, because he knew something crucial. Depending on how weakened his companion became, the permanent blessings Rey granted could decline in effectiveness, lose their power, and, in the worst case, cause twice as many negative effects to rebound on the sorcerer.
In other words, White could become a weapon if necessary—but one that might end up trapped. Rey's sounds, scent, and presence could erupt outward in an exponential, intimidating wave, making him impossible to ignore and feared by everyone. His sense and ability to understand others' intentions could be blocked, cutting off communication and breeding misunderstandings. Lethal harm could occur without explanation, and finally, everything that could possibly be considered terrible bad luck might fall upon him. That was the price of blessings.
Rey, meanwhile, let himself drift into a state where he was both aware of what was happening around him and not, all so he could listen and feel everything as if he were in a lucid dream.
The language was strange, unfamiliar, and in a way a little funny, but the sounds were somewhat similar to the way he himself spoke. A good listener, Rey stored away each word he heard from outside and, guided by tone of voice and circumstance, set himself the task of drawing conclusions so he could decipher what each pattern of sounds was trying to convey. Among those voices, the words of the older man stood out once they were all loaded into the vehicle.
"Back to the temple of the amorous arts."
"Yes, sir," the women present replied.