Faelyn's brain scrambled for an answer that wouldn't get her immediately kicked out or worse.
'Okay. Think. What can I say that's not a complete lie but also doesn't make me sound completely insane?'
"I... I don't know what I am," she said slowly, carefully. "I woke up in the forest with no memory of how I got there."
Technically true. She didn't remember being BORN in this world, and she definitely woke up in a forest with no idea how transmigration worked.
Mira's ancient eyes narrowed, studying her face like she was reading a particularly complicated scroll. "No memory at all?"
"Nothing before waking up in the dirt." Also true. The deer incident didn't count because that was a different world entirely.
"Where are your parents?"
"I don't know."
"What do you remember before waking?"
"Nothing useful." Unless you counted dying via rabid deer, which she absolutely was NOT mentioning.
"Do you know why the gods blessed you with such hair?"
Faelyn's hand unconsciously went to her white strands. "I didn't even know it was white until I woke up."
That made Mira pause. Her fingers touched her own white streak, the single line of divine favor she'd apparently earned over nearly six centuries of life.
"You didn't know," Mira repeated softly, more to herself than to Faelyn. "You truly have no idea what you are."
'Well when you put it like that, it sounds even more depressing.'
The healer was quiet for a long moment, her expression shifting between concern, curiosity, and something that looked almost like recognition.
Finally, she sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.
"In the old tales passed down through healers," Mira began, her voice taking on the cadence of someone reciting something sacred, "there were legends of beings called 'Hue-mahns.'"
Faelyn's heart stopped.
'She KNOWS. How does she KNOW?'
"Creatures blessed and cursed by the gods," Mira continued, eyes distant like she was seeing something far away. "Who would fall from the sky in times of great change. They were said to have no beast form, no connection to the animal spirits, but possessed strange knowledge and ways of thinking unlike our own."
She looked directly at Faelyn, and her gaze landed on that completely white hair again.
"The tales said they would be marked by the gods. Honored. Different. And that their arrival would shift the balance of our world."
'Great. So I'm not just rare. I'm apparently some kind of prophecy. Fantastic. Just fantastic.'
[This is SO COOL!] Puffball squealed, doing excited loops. [You're like the Chosen One! The Prophesied Hero! The—]
'Shut UP, Puffball. This is the OPPOSITE of cool. This is terrifying and definitely you and the system's fault for dragging me into this shit.'
"I'm not—" Faelyn started, but Mira held up a hand.
"I'm not saying you ARE one of these Hue-mahns, child. The tales are old. Perhaps just stories." But her tone suggested she didn't believe that for a second. "I'm simply saying that your appearance, your complete lack of memory, your..." She gestured at Faelyn's hair. "Divine marking. It raises questions."
"Questions like what?"
Mira opened her mouth to answer.
And then there was a commotion outside.
Raised voices. Aggressive. Male.
Mira's leopard ears perked straight up, and she frowned deeply. "What now?"
She moved toward the door, and Faelyn followed, honestly grateful for any interruption that got her out of this interrogation.
ฅᨐฅ ⚞ • ⚟ ฅᨐฅ
Outside, a crowd had gathered.
And at the center of it stood a man Faelyn hadn't seen before.
He was shorter than both Roshan and Nyx, but still easily over six feet. Older too, maybe in his eighties if she had to guess, with graying hair pulled back and golden leopard ears that had a few notches missing from what looked like old fights. Scars crisscrossed his bare chest and arms, and he carried himself with the kind of arrogance that came from someone who thought the world owed him something.
He was standing entirely too close to Nyx, invading his personal space in a way that was clearly intentional.
Roshan stood between them, jaw tight, hands clenched at his sides.
The crowd of leopard beastmen around them watched with expressions ranging from curious to excited, like they were hoping for a fight.
"I don't care if there's a truce, Panther," the scarred man said, voice dripping with disdain. "This is OUR village. OUR territory. You have no RIGHT to be here, sniffing around our healer's den like some stray."
Nyx's expression was carefully blank, but his red eyes were cold as ice.
Nyx's mind: ฅᨐฅ'If I leave, I can't protect her. If I stay, I'm violating the truce and giving them more leverage. If I fight this arrogant fool, Roshan's clan will have grounds to break the alliance. But if I just leave her here with this—'ฅᨐฅ
"Darius," Roshan said, voice controlled but with an edge. "Stand down. The Panther Chief is here as my guest."
Darius turned to Roshan with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Your guest. Of course, benevolent Chief." The words were respectful, but the tone was absolutely mocking. "How gracious of you to extend such hospitality to our dear neighbors. I'm sure our previous chiefs would be so proud of your... progressive approach to diplomacy."
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'He's trying to undermine me in front of the clan. Again. Calling me soft. Weak. Suggesting I should have gone to war instead of making peace. Darius, you absolute—'ฅᨐฅ
"The truce benefits everyone," Roshan said evenly. "We all have access to water. No one starves. No one dies in pointless territory wars."
"Pointless," Darius repeated, like the word tasted bitter. "Yes, I suppose fighting for honor and strength would seem pointless to someone who prefers to share resources with rivals rather than TAKE what's rightfully ours."
Several of the watching males shifted uncomfortably.
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'He's been waiting for this. For an opportunity to challenge my authority. And now with a new female here, he has the perfect excuse.'ฅᨐฅ
That's when Darius's gaze slid past both chiefs and landed directly on Faelyn, still standing in the healer's doorway.
His expression changed immediately. Predatory. Calculating. Hungry.
"Ahhh," he said slowly, a grin spreading across his scarred face. "So THAT'S why the Panther Chief is lingering in our territory so shamelessly."
He took a step toward her, completely ignoring both Roshan and Nyx.
"The new female." His eyes traveled up and down her body in a way that made Faelyn's skin crawl. "And blessed by the gods themselves, if that hair is any indication."
'Oh I do not like where this is going.'
"Don't be afraid, little one," Darius said, voice dripping with false sweetness. "You don't need TWO chiefs hovering over you like you're some fragile treasure. Our clan will take VERY good care of you."
Roshan moved instantly, putting himself between Darius and Faelyn.
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'Touch her and I'll rip your throat out, toleration be damned, clan politics be damned, EVERYTHING be damned.'ฅᨐฅ
"Darius," Roshan said, voice dropping to something dangerous. "Back off. Now."
Darius laughed, loud and mocking. "What's wrong, benevolent Chief? Worried about a little competition?"