Katherine sat on a cool wooden bench just outside the communal outbuildings, the faint scent of hay and soap clinging to her skin after her shower. She watched as stable hands guided elemental golems—earthen figures with glowing eyes—past the weathered doors. The morning sun warmed her shoulders as she laced up her boot, lost in the quiet rhythm of the estate.

  A confident voice cut through her thoughts. She glanced up, blinking as a young man strode her way. He looked older than Dean, but with the same sharp jaw and easy smile—though his posture radiated self-assurance, a stark contrast to Dean’s nervous energy at the guild.

  “Hey, Dean?” she asked, hesitating as she tried to place him.

  The stranger grinned, sunlight catching in his hair. “Not quite. I’m Eli—Dean’s brother. You’re Roland’s apprentice, right?”

  Katherine’s shoulders relaxed and she returned the smile. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “And that big cat lounging outside—he yours?” Eli nodded toward the door, where Shade’s massive form was sprawled in a patch of sunlight.

  Katherine chuckled, picturing her familiar’s lazy sprawl. “That’s Shade. He looks scary, but he’s a big softy. I doubt he’d ever bite anyone—unless you tried to steal his breakfast.”

  Eli laughed, offering his hand. “Dean wouldn’t stop talking about him after you visited. It’s good to finally meet you.”

  She shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip. “Katherine.”

  Eli’s grin grew. “So, let me guess—rough morning wrangling pyrelings?”

  Katherine smirked, shaking her head. “Nope. The sand golems got me instead. I’ve been to deserts before, but I swear, they get sand in places I didn’t know existed.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Eli said, chuckling. “My first day here, I walked straight into their pen. Didn’t know it was full of sand golems. They buried me up to my neck—took ages for the crew to dig me out.”

  Katherine grinned, tying the last knot on her boot. “Mind if I ask you something, Eli?”

  “Sure,” he replied, looking pleasantly curious.

  She pointed over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “You know you’re in the women’s facilities, right?”

  For a moment, Eli’s confident posture froze. He turned slowly, eyes landing on the sign—a painted silhouette of a woman, clear as day. Color rushed to his cheeks, and he scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure where to look. “Oh. Uh… I am?”

  “You are,” Katherine confirmed, trying—and failing—to hide her amusement as she watched his embarrassment bloom.

  Eli’s bravado wilted, and he laughed sheepishly, edges of his grin tinged with mortification. “Guess I should pay more attention to the signs, huh?”

  “Yeah, you should,” Katherine agreed with a slight smile at Eli’s misfortune.

  ...

  Lira poured tea for Eli as they sat together in the parlor. It was unusual for a gardener to be inside the house, but she needed his help with something specific regarding Katherine. Eli possessed a rare skill called Detect Soul Shape, which was common among stealth-focused adventurers who had survived soul-altering or deeply traumatic experiences. Eli had developed this ability during one of his final contracts before retiring from the guild, now remaining only as an on-call member.

  Lira glanced at Eli, her expression intent. "How was Katherine today?" she asked, hoping for insight.

  Eli set his hat on his lap and considered. "She’s intimidating, young mistress. Her familiar adds to that impression," he replied, his tone respectful but honest. "About what you asked me to do—if Katherine’s hiding something, she’s exceptionally skilled at it. Her soul shows signs of real hardship. Honestly, I’m not surprised she doesn’t talk much."

  Lira frowned, intrigued by the observation. "What do you mean?"

  Eli leaned forward, choosing his words carefully. "When I use my skill, I see a person’s soul as a marble. Tamers have souls that look like marbles connected to other marbles—probably because of the bonds they share with their familiars. That’s just how it appears to me, though it could be different for others."

  Lira nodded, sitting forward eagerly. "Go on."

  "Katherine’s soul shows the same connection with her familiar, Shade," Eli explained. He shifted slightly, maintaining a respectful distance. "But there are extra strands, as if she once had more connections—only they’ve been violently severed. Her soul is as scarred as her body."

  Lira absorbed this, leaning back in her chair. "I see. She was paid for today’s work, right?"

  "I think so," Eli replied. He hesitated, then added, "But I don’t handle wages. You might want to check with whoever manages them."

  "Alright, Eli. You can go," Lira said, dismissing him with a nod. "If you notice anything else about Katherine, let me know. And say hello to Dean and your mother for me."

  Eli gave a polite bow before heading toward the door. Just as his hand touched the latch, Lira called out, "Oh, Eli." He turned, eyebrows raised. "If you’re ever found in the women’s changing facilities again, I’ll curse you so thoroughly that your descendants will regret it for generations." Her tone was light but carried an unmistakable warning, a reminder that even family employees needed to respect boundaries.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ...

  Katherine sat quietly in the outdoor dormitory, her thoughts drifting as she settled into her new home. She’d moved in after her tab at the inn expired—a simple transition, since everything she owned fit neatly into a single bag filled with toiletries and essentials. The dorms housed around five families, along with twice as many single residents. The families spanned a few generations, with parents, children, and even grandchildren often working side by side.

  She was amazed at how so many people could fit comfortably in such a modest space. Magic played a vital role in construction and upkeep; spacial enchantments had been woven into the cupboards and individual rooms, allowing them to expand and accommodate the bustling community. When Katherine opened her wardrobe for the first time, she marveled as the inside seemed to stretch on endlessly, offering plenty of room for her things. Shimmers of spacial energy sparkled in the air, making the entire dorm feel open and inviting—her assigned room was even a bit larger than her old apartment back on Earth.

  Shade, her familiar, seemed to adore their new space as much as she did. The room included thoughtful touches to make him comfortable: a plush mat near the window, a bowl filled with fresh water, and gentle swirls of ambient magical energy that he liked to bask in. Katherine felt relieved seeing Shade settle in so easily, sensing his contentment as he stretched out, purring low in his chest.

  The youngest children in the dorm were fascinated by Shade, their eyes lighting up whenever he entered the common room. Katherine watched with a mixture of pride and nervousness as the kids asked to pet him; she hesitated, unsure of Shade’s limits, but was reassured as he responded with gentle patience. He let the children touch his fur and scratch behind his ears, his tail flicking in amusement. But when an infant slipped away from its distracted parent and tugged sharply on Shade’s tail, he reacted with a startled snap, causing the child to burst into tears. Guilt washed over Katherine as she rushed to apologize to the mother, who met her apology with an understanding smile. The incident ended with the child needing a fresh diaper and Shade being kept apart from the kids, just to be safe. Katherine felt a surge of gratitude for the mother’s patience, and a renewed determination to make sure her familiar felt comfortable—and everyone stayed safe.

  “I haven’t seen you around before,” the mother said, glancing at Katherine while expertly balancing her child on her hip.

  “Yeah, I just started earlier this week,” Katherine replied, still feeling a bit embarrassed about Shade’s mishap. She offered her hand with a tentative smile. “I’m Katherine.”

  The mother shook her hand warmly. “Abbeth, but everyone calls me Abbie,” she replied, her voice friendly despite the fatigue evident in her posture.

  Abbie looked every bit the exhausted new mom—her shirt bore spit-up stains on the shoulders, and dark circles stood out beneath her already dark skin. Her back curved in a way that suggested fatigue more than deformity. Katherine noticed but decided not to ask, not wanting to be rude. Abbie’s brown, frizzled hair was pulled back into a ponytail as she stirred a pot on the stove—likely distracted, which explained how her child managed to grab Shade’s tail in the first place.

  Abbie’s piercing yellow eyes flicked from the pot back to Katherine. “So, Katherine, where are you working?” she asked, her curiosity genuine.

  “Everywhere there’s a pen with animals or some kind of creature in it,” Katherine admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I was kind of pushed into being Roland’s apprentice.”

  Abbie nodded, recalling something. “Yeah, Dad did mention taking on an apprentice,” she said, not realizing the surprise her words would cause.

  Katherine opened her mouth to respond, then paused as the realization sank in. “Wait—Dad?”

  “Stepdad, technically, but he’s raised me long enough to count as my dad,” Abbie clarified, giving her stew another stir before lifting out a spoonful of meat and vegetables. She offered it to Katherine. “Could you try this? My sense of taste isn’t the best.”

  “I’d love to help,” Katherine said, hesitating with a small, apologetic laugh as she tapped her nose. “But a battlefield injury killed most of my sense of taste and smell. The only thing I can really smell is the pyrelings—and that’s strong enough to wake the dead. As for taste, only things that shouldn’t be eaten register for me.”

  Abbie laughed, warming to Katherine’s humor. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed, shaking her head. “I remember when the duke first got them—the barn enchantments weren’t strong enough at first, and depending on the wind, all the dinner parties had to be moved inside.”

  ...

  Later, after most of the children were in bed and the adults had started passing around drinks, Katherine finally let Shade out to roam the rest of the building and hunt for his dinner. She instructed him to hunt off the property but told him not to stray too far.

  Abbie watched Shade disappear down the hallway and commented, “He seems well behaved.”

  Katherine settled onto the couch next to Abbie, a glass of whiskey in hand. She released some tension from her shoulders and admitted, “He can sense when I’m anxious. Besides, you haven’t seen him try to take a bath—he absolutely despises water.”

  Abbie chortled, “I can imagine he does.”

  One of the fathers, sitting nearby and sucking on what looked like a cigar, asked, “How did you even get him? He seems extremely expensive.”

  Katherine shrugged and took a sip from her glass. “Feeding him is expensive. To help him grow quickly, I have to give him things with mana that suit him. Luckily, one of those is affordable enough—the other, not so much.”

  Roland, slightly swaying as he adjusted his position in his seat, nodded. “Yeah, that tends to happen. It’s the main reason people don’t bond with the first beasty they come into contact with.”

  Katherine raised her hands in defense. “It was either that, or be cat food. Besides, I’m pretty sure he made the contract. I don’t know the first thing about making contracts, let alone anything about souls.”

  Roland recalled, “Lira did mention that. At least you’ve got a good handle on him so far. Have you had any more loops?”

  Katherine sensed that Roland wasn’t asking about anything Shade could eat. She realized Lira might have asked him to keep an eye on her in case she experienced another emotional feedback loop—like what had happened in the forest. He was making sure it hadn’t happened again.

  She tightened her grip on her glass, feeling a subtle blade of guilt. “No,” Katherine lied, forcing a small smile. “Thank you for checking, though.”

  Soon, everyone was deep in their cups, or in some cases, above the clouds. Katherine nursed the single glass she had received, not wanting her demons to torment either herself or her new housemates.

  Suddenly, a wave of fear and pain crashed over her, leaving her breathless. She gripped her glass so tightly her knuckles whitened. She had told Shade he could hunt, but he never targeted anything he couldn’t carry in his jaws.

  Glancing around, Katherine realized no one else was sober enough to help. Roland was swaying and slurring his words, and the rest of the adults weren’t in any better shape. The responsibility fell squarely on her shoulders.

  As calmly as she could, Katherine got off the couch and headed for the kitchen. She set her glass on the counter, grabbed the closest knife, and searched for the largest shadow she could easily step into. With a steadying breath, she slipped into the darkness.