"Microrex? Ridiculous!" Idalia said. She wanted to disclose so much about the fact that she was even better—but decided against it. Instead she chose to follow the Liorex code of the Silent Tongues—Alpha Pawail's warning to never share one's status with anyone else. Not even to a non-Liorexes. "I am… me."

  Rhaya smiled. "Right, of course, we're all 'us' But sometimes, Liorex—uh—families—have subtypes."

  Idalia considered this deeply. "My mother and father called me 'Idalia.' Is that a subtype?"

  "No. No dear stars above—no. All right… Let's try… simpler. Growing up—did you have any mentors? Elders? They didn't call you anything specific? Like, say, a… herald?"

  Idalia perked up proudly. "They said I was very loud."

  "Not what I meant."

  "And they said I broke too many dens."

  "Also not it."

  "And they said I would certainly be the end of us all one day." Idalia enjoyed provoking a silly reaction there, when something like fear flashed in Rhaya's eyes, yet Idalia continued cheerfully, "But I think that was affection."

  Rhaya inhaled slowly as if trying to fill herself with patience—or relief—and lifted the headphones from around her neck, letting them rest beside the half-devoured "mouse."

  "Okay," she said, voice tight. "If you want a lesson, you need to sit somewhere that is not on top of my entire workstation."

  Idalia blinked, entirely unrepentant. "Here is warm."

  "Yes," Rhaya snapped, "because my computer is overheating under your dragon butt."

  Idalia tilted her head. "That is not a good place for heat, no?"

  "No. No it is not. Please move."

  Idalia, after a pause, slithered off the desk. She sat on the floor, tail coiled neatly behind her like an obedient—if smug—cat. "I am ready."

  "Good. Rule number two: do not… eat anything during the explanation."

  "I make no promises."

  "Idalia."

  "…Fine. I will try."

  Rhaya plopped into her chair again, swiveling slightly as she gathered her thoughts. The air around her vibrated faintly. Idalia noticed it the same way a wolf notices winter wind: with instinctual awareness.

  "So," Rhaya said, "you want to know what I do. What you saw on the court. How I move fast. How I… bend space. Yes?"

  "Yes! Show me how you shake the dimension."

  "I—okay, we are not using that phrase. Please do not say that out loud in any official room."

  "Why not?"

  "Because people will panic." Rhaya cleared her throat. "And also: that's not what I'm doing. Not exactly."

  Idalia hiss-clicked in confusion. "But I saw the shimmer. The vibration. Space moved around you like water."

  Rhaya opened her mouth… then slowly closed it. "Okay. Tiny clarification: yes, sometimes space shifts a bit. But that's advanced theory-level stuff. You? You're getting preschool."

  "I do not know what that is."

  "It's the learning level where I assume you know nothing."

  Idalia nodded, pleased. "Accurate."

  "Neat. Let's start simple. You understand sound?"

  "Yes." Idalia's ears perked. "It tickles the air."

  "Good. Sound is just vibration. Things shake, and the shaking travels."

  Idalia frowned. "Like when I purr and the floor trembles."

  "Exactly. Or when you roar and everyone thinks we're under attack."

  "Also accurate."

  "So." Rhaya lifted her palm. Tiny sparks of shimmer danced across her skin in the form of soft glitter. "My magic manipulates vibrations. Rhythm. Waves. Frequencies."

  "Waves like ocean water?"

  "Yes," Rhaya admitted. "Except the ocean is everywhere. Everything shakes at some tiny level you don't see."

  Idalia's eyes widened, her gaze swept the room on that revelation. It was true—vibrations were everywhere even if they were barely visible. The tremors were real!

  [Knowledge Core [D]: 44% → 46%]

  "What? Everything is vibrating? Right now?" Idalia slapped the floor. "This is madness."

  Rhaya laughed. "Welcome to physics."

  "Ke… lix?"

  "Not important," Rhaya said quickly, waving that away like a dangerous beast. "The point is: I can push those vibrations. Make them align. Make them stronger or weaker. If I find the right rhythm… I can move in ways others can't."

  Idalia leaned forward, fascinated. "So your speed is… musical?"

  "Yes!" Rhaya brightened in a way that finally resembled something Idalia got. "Exactly. Music is pattern. Pattern is rhythm. Rhythm is energy. And energy can shape how your body interacts with the world."

  [Knowledge Core [D]: 46% → 48%]

  Idalia's tongue flicked in thought, fumbling. "So you make your body vibrate fast enough to blur through space?"

  Rhaya stiffened. "Whoa—no. No. Do not attempt that. You would explode."

  Stolen story; please report.

  "Explode… inward? Or outward?" Idalia's tail swished happily. "So what can I do?" She leaned in even closer, eyes wide. "Teach me that. Teach me to feel like you do."

  Rhaya hesitated a long, weighted silence, like she had reached a line drawn in sand.

  "Idalia… you're strong. Too strong. If you learn what I know—" She swallowed. "You could hurt people. Even without meaning to."

  Idalia's pupils narrowed, a growl rising from her throat. "…So you will not teach me?"

  "I didn't say that. But I'm not giving a monster the keys to my entire skillset."

  Idalia's head drooped. "You think I will eat you."

  "You bit my mouse, Idalia. You bite anything you don't understand."

  When that was said, the temperature in the room somehow dropped ten degrees. Before Idalia could reply, a sudden, knock echoed through the door. Both of them froze. Idalia's ears twitched; her eyes widened. "Who's that?!"

  As if responding to her question, the door slid open, and a slender figure stepped in with perfect poise, framed by the sterile corridor beyond. Red horns, light green hair, a confident stride, and an aura that screamed Vestella's lineage.

  "Tiamare?" Idalia blurted, tail whipping in excitement as she jumped upright. "How… how did you get aboard the ship?!"

  Tiamare's eyes were wide but calm. "Hello," she said evenly, though her gaze flickered toward Idalia's claws. "Nice to meet you again."

  "Ahem!" Rhaya exhaled through her nose, shoulders rising slightly in exasperation. "That's none of your business, Idalia. How she got here is strictly personal."

  "But—but she travelled here!" Idalia's gaze snapped back to Tiamare. "You weren't here before! How—"

  "No." Rhaya's tone was blunt, leaving no room for argument. "Not your concern. Now, get out of my room before you break the equipment."

  Idalia tilted her head, slowly rising from the floor, sniffing the air around Tiamare curiously. "Oh. So… she's special too."

  "Yes," Rhaya said dryly, shaking her head. She grabbed a small spray bottle from the corner of the desk and gave Idalia a warning spritz. "Shoo. Out. Before I start actually spraying for real."

  Idalia yelped, hopping backward and brushing a stack of notebooks off the floor. "You spray water! That's mean! But… fair," she admitted, swishing her tail. "Fine, fine. Out!"

  As Idalia padded toward the door, her curiosity still sparking, she looked back at Tiamare. "Wait… you're part of this too? You have powers, right? I sensed something…"

  Tiamare's eyes flicked to Rhaya, who gave her a sharp look. The green-haired girl shook her head slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. "That's… enough questions for one day," Rhaya said.

  Idalia's ears flattened, but she slowly backed toward the doorway, grumbling like a trapped feline. Her claws scraped against the edge of the threshold as she glanced back. Tiamare's eyes were wide, but cautious, scanning the room as Rhaya resumed her typing on the glowing screen.

  "Explain yourself later," Rhaya said curtly. "Idalia, out."

  Idalia blinked, realizing she'd been firmly rebuffed. With a soft, disappointed huff, she slinked out of the room, tail swishing, already plotting her next intrusion.

  The door slid shut behind her, but [Spatial Sight] could see and allow her to hear behind it.

  Tiamare gave her a small, awkward smile. "So… she's the one you were telling me about?"

  Rhaya didn't look up. "Yeah. She's like a curious cat with claws the size of daggers. Best not to let her near anything important."

  Tiamare glanced at the equipment, then at the Liorex-shaped indentations on the floor. "I see…"

  Rhaya leaned back, headphones dangling, typing away with one hand while giving Tiamare a look that mixed irritation with faint amusement.

  "Now that that's taken care of, you can stand there and watch, or sit. Your choice."

  Tiamare hesitated, then carefully lowered herself onto a chair. Suddenly Rhaya snapped and Idalia lost all visuals and noises within the room. The realization left her stunned when everything within Rhaya's room sounded hushed—barely a whisper.

  Outside the door, a disgruntled growl left Idalia's throat, as she turned elsewhere, tail tapping against the floor—already impatient, already planning.

  ??? ???

  It neared the third day of dusk, the soft golden light of Vestella's chamber seemed warmer than the ship's usual hum. Plush toys and embroidered cushions created little mounds around the edges, their faint scent of plum tea and lavender wrapping the room in an oddly domestic haze.

  Idalia had declared the largest pile of cushions her nest, sprawling across it with her claws lightly flexing, tail curling over her side like a pendulum.

  "Your nest smells like… like flowers and fire," she mused, head tilted. "And soft. I like it."

  Vestella, seated at a low table with a fan resting across her knees, gave a faint smile. "I hope it's not too… unconventional for you."

  Idalia giggled, curling further into the mound. "I like unconventional. Kelix, try not to stare too much."

  Kelix, leaning against the doorway with arms crossed, gave a dry, amused grunt. "She's going to ruin that pile in five minutes."

  "I will not!" Idalia protested, digging a claw gently into the soft fabric. "I am careful. I respect nests. Unlike some people who throw lightning everywhere."

  Kelix chuckled, which earned him a glare from Idalia. After a moment, she turned her gaze toward Vestella. "You… you live here alone?"

  Vestella's expression softened, almost wistful. She folded her fan, tapping it lightly against her chin. "Not entirely. I come from a… large household. Nine siblings, once ten before the eldest—my sister—disappeared abruptly. Lord Jaekaello is our father, Patriarch of the Yae Fae household."

  Idalia blinked, ears twitching. "Nine? Ten? That's… like a pack! Too many mouths! Did they fight you?"

  Vestella let out a quiet sigh, her frown deepening. "Not in the way you think. We compete through strategy, honor, influence. Words, campaigns, influence over the Council. A single misstep, a failed campaign, and one risks losing one's position entirely. I am the youngest, yet I must prove myself as worthy—perhaps even more than the others."

  Idalia's tail flicked thoughtfully. "So you… always have to win? Even when you want to nap?"

  "Even then," Vestella admitted, her eyes distant. "To claim leadership of my house… to command respect… to survive the scrutiny of our peers. Victory is not a choice—it is necessary."

  Idalia bounced lightly on the cushions, claws sinking in with each hop. "That sounds… hard. I like fighting, but even I… I don't fight siblings like that. I fight monsters!"

  Vestella's lips curved faintly. "And yet, Soreine and Forje… they have been no less challenging than any family rivalry. Their power and cunning… even my best-laid strategies have strained against them."

  Idalia's ears perked, and she leaned closer, snout almost brushing Vestella's hand. "You're smart. Really smart. And… you get in trouble with people bigger than you anyway?"

  Vestella's fan half-closed, her expression softening as she allowed herself a brief shrug. "Yes. The Orun Dominion underestimated me. Soreine, Forje—they tested the limits of my command. I've lost battles I thought I could win."

  "Lost? But… you're still here." She flicked her claws lightly, leaning back, eyes sparkling with excitement. "So… you learned! Like me! When Lyrawinn teaches me to fight, sometimes I fall, but I get up and roar louder!"

  Vestella regarded her quietly, a faint, rare smile breaking through. "Yes. In the end, that is exactly the lesson. Adapt, survive, and choose your battles wisely. Even the youngest can rise to match the strongest."

  Idalia yawned, curling further into the mound of cushions. "I like this nest. You should let me stay here. I'll be quiet… mostly. Maybe you'll even teach me stuff… like strategy! I could be smart too, like you!"

  Vestella's gaze softened further, and she folded her fan fully, leaning back. "Perhaps… you already are, in your own way. And yes, I think you may remain here for the night. Even a tyrannosaur needs her rest before tomorrow's hunt."

  Idalia grinned, tail thumping happily against the cushions. "Best nest ever. Maybe we can plan tomorrow… to find Papa together!"

  Kelix, still by the doorway, muttered under his breath, shaking his head fondly. "This is going to be an exhausting partnership."

  Vestella's smile didn't fade. "Yes… but a promising one—"

  A heavy thud slammed through the chamber and cut Vestella off mid-sentence. The floor trembled hard enough that the cushions jumped. Idalia sprang to her paws, fur bristling and claws digging into the fabric. "What was that?!"

  Vestella didn't move. She stayed perfectly still on her knees, as calm as if the walls hadn't just shivered. Kelix, however, already had lightning curling between his fingers, bright and angry.

  Idalia didn't wait for anyone to answer. Her {Spatial Sight} flared open like a second set of eyes, rushing past the room, past the metal walls, spilling out into the cold space around the warship.

  Something clung to the ship's outer barrier.

  Her {Oblivion Sight} slid over it, peeling back the shimmer that blurred the shape. At first it looked like a dragon, but its arms were fused into its wings. Wyvern. Big one. Pressed tight against the ship's protective glow.

  But the glow wasn't just around the ship.

  It wrapped the wyvern too.

  Idalia hissed under her breath. She knew that trick. Camouflage. Hide-in-the-light magic. Someone was making the creature near-invisible.

  Then she saw the rider. An armored figure crouched low on the wyvern's back, helmet crowned with a long, spiked spine like a bone blade. He wasn't alone.

  More wyverns slipped through the clouds, their shapes flickering into view as her {Sight} locked onto them—one, three, five, too many to count at once—all heading straight for the ship.

  11 chapters ahead [or 5 weeks of reading time ahead of RR]. Have a good one!