“Good. A break’s for a little talk too,” Lucimia said, her voice like steam curling from warm tea.

She lifted a subtle veil with her Disguise Power, misting over the third eye and the runic lines on her face.

She turned them into twin tear-moles, inked drops set beneath the corners of her two eyes.

Her tail she meant to hide as a tattoo, but the spot felt wrong, a pebble in the shoe.

After circling the idea to death, she let it become a single mole, a dark seed at the base.

On the surface she looked the same again, yet the two tear-moles added a touch of dusk-lit charm.

“Even cuter…” Rexi blurted, the words tumbling like sparrows.

“Ahem.” Lucimia coughed twice, light taps on porcelain.

“Uh!” Rexi snapped upright, a reed in a sudden wind. “Ask whatever you want. I’ll answer everything!”

“No need to be that stiff. Let’s just chat… like friends,” Lucimia said, a lantern glow softening her tone.

“Friends… I don’t have any,” Rexi murmured, a lone boat on a wide river. “Only Bevi talks with me.”

“How do you two talk?” Lucimia asked, her curiosity a quiet current.

“Usually I talk a lot,” Rexi said, words spilling like beans. “He replies if it fits. Otherwise he hugs a book and ignores everyone.”

“Oh, then he’s a real bookworm,” Lucimia teased, a smile like a fox’s flicking tail.

Rexi lit up, sparks in her eyes. “Right? He nests in his bookstore all day, never goes anywhere.”

“Even with customers he doesn’t care, just stares at pages,” she said, palms up. “Strange guy. Doesn’t even earn money.”

“Me, I was broke and hungry,” she went on, stomach like an empty drum. “I stole bread and got chased three days and nights.”

She lowered her head, a leaf in rain. “I handed over my last coins, and they still chased me.”

“Hm?” Lucimia’s smile tilted, a crescent moon. “Weren’t you hunted for killing?”

“!” Rexi froze, a deer in torchlight. “How did you know?!”

Lucimia didn’t answer that. “So you did kill someone? Who? Don’t worry, I won’t report you.”

“I’m being hunted too,” she added, snow pressing like quiet hands.

“Eh! You’re hunted too? That’s why you were lying in the snow?” Rexi asked, hope like a spark catching.

Because of that small sameness, Rexi felt she’d found a kindred spirit, a mirror across a lake.

She looked excited, then scratched her head, a shy cat. “Heh… but I really don’t know I killed anyone.”

“I don’t even know who it was,” she said, fog pooling in her gaze.

“Mhm.” Lucimia brushed past it, a willow bending. “Do you know me?”

“Uh… what kind of question is that?” Rexi blinked. “We just met.”

“No, I mean you’re from Erwei City, right?” Lucimia asked, voice like a needle threading. “Did you see my wanted poster there?”

Rexi thought, a stone sinking in a well. “No. But don’t trust me on that.”

“I’m hunted too,” she said. “I rarely go into the city.”

“When I do, I only chase my own things,” she added. “Steal food, watch a performance, or look for Bevi.”

“Who’s Bevi?” Lucimia switched tracks, curiosity a moth to flame.

“He’s your kind! Bloodkin,” Rexi said, earnest as sunrise. “He’s a bookworm, but he knows a lot.”

“People in the city ask him questions,” she continued. “Even academy mages sometimes ask him.”

“Most are adventurers. Maybe he’s an info broker?” she said. “I don’t really get it.”

Lucimia fell quiet, thoughts like crows wheeling. A Bloodkin who knows everything?

A tug of urgency pricked her, like thorns. Ask him about Time Ability Users?

Or ask about Olivya’s trail? Could he be trusted? Would he know those depths?

Or ask where Yuna was taken—Kalan Village—then follow the thread to find Yuna’s parents?

Her mind moved like wind through bamboo, soft but persistent.

“How about I take you to your kin?” Rexi tilted her head, eyes bright as stars. “He’s black-haired too.”

“He should be your same tribe among the Bloodkin,” she said, a bridge offered.

Lucimia’s caution rose, a hand on the door. “Aren’t you wanted?”

“If you bring me back, aren’t you afraid you’ll be chased again?”

“Hehehe~” Rexi grinned, an imp peeking from shadows. “I’ve got a special way to get in without being hunted.”

“A special way?” Lucimia felt a small knot tighten, strings humming. She thought of Rexi’s ability.

She smiled, winter sun on snow. “By the way, I did kill you earlier.”

“You kept that memory, didn’t you?” she asked, her words like a needle pricking silk.

Rexi’s smile cracked, ice underfoot. She sprang up, breath catching. “H-how did you know?!”

“Your thoughts are written on your face,” Lucimia said, a fan hiding a grin. “So, what’s your ability?”

“You know the Dark Deity, right?” she added. “You know I’m one now.”

“Yet you’re not afraid, and you can chat with me. Why?” Her question settled like ash.

“Uh… Bevi told me,” Rexi said, voice small as a whisper. “He said a Dark Deity isn’t necessarily evil.”

“Treat them like ordinary humans with special abilities,” she continued. “Some good, some bad.”

“He also said people like that are cursed,” she finished, a bell tolling soft.

Again Bevi. Lucimia weighed him higher, a scale tipping.

“As for my ability… I can’t tell you!” Rexi said, firm as a struck gong.

“I get it. Rules?” Lucimia asked, mind like a loom. Most abilities had that cord: don’t tell proactively.

“Eh? Rules? What rules?” Rexi blinked, clouds parting in confusion.

“Doesn’t your ability have rules?” Lucimia asked. “Because of them, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Eh… I don’t think I have that rule,” Rexi whispered, voice like grass in wind.

“No rules?” Lucimia froze, a candle stilled. With no rules, only one thing fit—Authority Power.

She looked Rexi over, a physician’s calm eye. Arms and legs fine, spirit clear, no stain or taint.

Newly gained Authority?

“If so, then why can’t you tell me?” Lucimia asked, a silver thread offered. “We could trade.”

“No,” Rexi said, head shaking like a rattle. “I just can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone.”

“Not even if you die?” Lucimia asked, a blade-thin question.

“Yep! Not even dying!” Rexi said, oath hard as iron.

So intense? Lucimia’s curiosity coiled tighter, a spring in a box.

But she didn’t press, a hand leaving the chess piece.

“Right. When I asked your name, you said you didn’t know,” Lucimia said. “Soldiers called you that. Why?”

“I don’t know…” Rexi’s face dimmed, lantern oil low. “I remember nothing.”

“My only memory is waking in Bevi’s bookstore,” she said, a door creaking open. “He saw me passed out on the grass and carried me back.”

“After that, I worked as an adventurer to earn coins,” she went on. “To eat, to live, to duck the hunts.”

“Sometimes I sneak to watch shows in town,” Rexi said, a child peeking through curtains. “One day at a time.”