Page 16 of Feral Gods
And Kaia? She is to assist Zephyr with the temple's defensive mechanisms, her smaller hands better suited to manipulating the ancient control systems designed for dark elf use. A task that keeps her safe within the sanctuary while still allowing her to contribute—a shrewd decision on Ravik's part.
As we disperse to our assigned duties, I find myself watching the human's retreating form. She walks beside Zephyr, her head tilted attentively as he explains some aspect of the temple's magic. Despite her obvious exhaustion and the lingering effects of her ordeal in the blizzard, she carries herself with a quiet dignity that seems at odds with her supposed status as a mere slave.
Perhaps there is more to this human than I initially assumed. She survived a journey that would have killed many of her kind, broke a curse that has held for centuries, and now faces the prospect of a small army coming for her with remarkable composure. Not typical human behavior, in my experience.
A mystery for another time. For now, I have blood to spill and dark elves to terrorize. As I retreat to my assigned chamber to rest before the night's raid, I find myself unexpectedly anticipating the coming battle with something approaching joy. Not merely for the violence itself, though that has its appeal after centuries of enforced passivity, but for the purpose behind it.
We are defending something that matters—our freedom, our sanctuary, and yes, even our unusual human ward. For the first time since awakening, I feel truly alive, with all the messy complications that entails.
Let the dark elves come with their elite guards and ancient witches. Let them discover what it means to face the fury of gargoyles unbound. Let them learn the price of betrayal, paid in blood and terror.
I have waited centuries for vengeance. Tonight, I begin to collect that debt, with interest.
6
KAIA
Dust billows around me as I sweep the ancient stone floor of what will become my quarters—a small chamber adjacent to the inner sanctum, once used to house acolytes who tended the temple's sacred flame. The gargoyles have been occupied with defensive preparations since Thane's return from his scouting mission, leaving me to carve out my own small territory within this vast, imposing sanctuary.
I've spent my entire life creating order from chaos as a servant, but this labor feels different. For the first time, I'm arranging a space for myself, not for a master's convenience. Freedom tastes strange on my tongue, bittersweet with the knowledge that it may be short-lived if King Kres's forces breach our defenses.
Our defenses. Already I think of this place as partially mine, though it's barely been two days since I stumbled half-frozen through its doors. The gargoyles might be fearsome guardians with dubious opinions of humans, but they've shown me more consideration than six years of servitude in Liiandor ever did.
I pause my sweeping to examine my surroundings with a critical eye. The chamber is small but private, with a narrowwindow cut high into the stone wall, allowing a shaft of pale sunlight to illuminate dancing motes of dust. A stone ledge built into the wall will serve as a sleeping platform once I've padded it with the furs and fabrics Zephyr helped me locate in a long-forgotten storage room. It's hardly luxurious, but after years of sleeping on a thin pallet in a shared servants' alcove, it feels like unimaginable privacy.
"Making yourself at home?"
I whirl around, startled by the deep voice from the doorway. Ravik fills the entrance completely, his massive obsidian form blocking the light from the corridor. His amber eyes glow as they scan the chamber, taking in my modest attempts at domestication.
"Just trying to be useful," I reply, setting the crude broom aside. "I can't help with defenses like Thane, or understand magic like Zephyr, but I can make this place more livable."
Ravik steps into the chamber, ducking his horned head slightly to clear the doorway. His wings fold tightly against his broad back to accommodate the small space. Somehow, his presence makes the room feel even smaller, more intimate.
"A practical approach," he observes, running a clawed finger along a shelf I've cleared of debris. "Though perhaps unnecessary. This sanctuary may not be our home for long."
The implication sends a chill through me. "You think we'll have to abandon it?"
"I think we must prepare for all possibilities." His gaze shifts to me, intense and unreadable. "King Kres does not forgive, and he does not forget. If he wants you badly enough to send his elite forces, he will not relent easily."
I square my shoulders, refusing to show the fear that gnaws at my insides. "Then we'll just have to be stronger than his resolve."
A rumbling sound emerges from Ravik's chest—something that might almost be a chuckle. "Brave words from a little human."
"Not brave," I correct him. "Desperate. I've seen what happens to runaway slaves who are recaptured. Death would be kinder."
His expression darkens, the amber glow in his eyes intensifying. "No one will take you back to Liiandor while I draw breath."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice stirs something warm and unexpected in my chest. For a moment, neither of us speaks, caught in a strange tension that feels both dangerous and compelling.
I break the silence first. "I found some supplies that might be useful—preserved food, old blankets, even some clothing left behind by the temple's original inhabitants." I gesture toward a pile of items I've sorted on a stone table. "The garments might be too small for you three, but there are cloaks and such that could be adapted."
Ravik examines the items with mild interest before his attention returns to me. "You continue to prove resourceful. Good. You'll need that quality in the days ahead."
"What happens next?" I ask, voicing the question that's been foremost in my mind since Thane's return. "After tonight's raid, I mean."
"That depends on what Thane discovers," Ravik replies, his massive form shifting restlessly in the confined space. "If the dark elf forces are as substantial as we fear, we may need to consider alternatives to direct confrontation."
"Escape, you mean?" The thought of fleeing again, of leaving this sanctuary that already feels like more of a home than Lord Vathren's household ever did, sends a wave of disappointment through me.
