The Next Morning
Sunlight seeped through the window, drawing golden lines across the wooden floor. The town outside murmured to life—carts creaked, voices called, and boots clacked on cobblestones.
Sirus stirred first.
He sat up slowly, crimson eyes narrowing at the dust floating in the morning light. His body didn't ache. It rarely did now. But his mind felt heavy, as if some part of him hadn't slept.
Beside him, Selvynee was sprawled across the bed like a cat in mid-stretch. One arm dangled off the bed, her tail draped lazily over a pillow. Her ears twitched, catching the sounds of morning.
"…Five more minutes," she muttered.
Sirus sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing with practiced ease.
"You've had more than five," he replied dryly, voice rough from disuse. "Get up. The mayor's probably already heard the ogre died."
Selvynee groaned and rolled over, peeking at him with one bleary eye.
"I was dreaming of roasted fish…"
"Too bad. You'll get dry bread if we don't move."
That got her sitting up. Hair wild, one side of her face pillow-pressed, she blinked in the sun.
"You really are cruel, Ashfang."
He smirked faintly, peeking over the window. "I let you hog the blanket all night. That's mercy."
"…That was your half?"
Sirus paused, eye twitching. "Of course it was."
Selvynee snorted and stood, stretching until her joints cracked. "Fine, fine. I'm up. Let's go greet the grumpy humans."
As she slipped on her coat, she glanced at him sideways. "Thanks, by the way. For last night. You didn't have to pull me through that crowd."
"I wanted to."
And with that, he opened the door.
Downstairs, his ears twitched at the sound of a grumbling stomach-hers.
He glanced back, voice low. "Let's find new clothes first. Then food."
He reached for the exit, muttering, "I'd rather not walk around looking like barbarians."
Selvynee nodded and stuck close to Ashfang like stubborn glue.
Outside the sun washed over them, as well attracting murmurers-and stares through the streets.
Selvynee froze up, her tail embracing her chest once again.
Sirus looking back with a tired sigh, gently grabbing her hand-leading her forward.
"S-sorry. Again." Selvynee apologised-quietly-staring down at the cobblestone..
Sirus didn't reply. His focus stayed forward, crimson eyes scanning for a shop.
Luckily no human bothered them as they reached for a door, a soft-bell chime rang through the shop.
"I'll be with you shortly!" A older woman called from the back
No one else was inside. Sirus stepped deeper into the shop. "Hand me your coat. Pick whatever you want," he said looking back, tone soft but steady.
Selvynee stayed rooted, still bracing herself like the crowd might reappear any second.
With a sigh, Sirus gently flicked her temple.
"Ow—what was that for?" she blinked, startled.
"We're in a clothing shop," he said, like it was obvious. "Go pick something. Don't worry about the price."
Before she could respond, he turned and walked off into the men's section.
Selvynee lingered for a moment, still holding her coat in one arm. Her ears twitched at the silence—no judgment, no sneering faces. Just racks of folded clothes.
She took a slow breath and padded into the women's section.
Some of the styles were odd—human clothes always looked too… squared. But tucked between dull brown tunics and over-ruffled dresses, her sharp eyes found a soft grey cloak lined with fur at the collar. She ran her fingers across it, then glanced toward Sirus, who was flipping through shirts like he didn't care what he wore.
"…This one's nice," she murmured, pulling the cloak free. She added a clean undershirt and a loose pair of trousers stitched with faint silver thread. Functional, but with enough flair to feel like her.
Meanwhile, in the men's section, Sirus lifted a black, high-collared tunic. Its buttons gleamed faintly—minimalist, durable. He gave a small nod to himself and tossed a few extra items under his arm.
Selvynee approached the counter quietly, arms full. Sirus met her there a moment later.
"You good?" he asked, noticing the cloak.
She nodded. "I didn't go overboard…"
"I wouldn't care if you did. He turned to the shopkeeper, who had just emerged from the back, a pair of round glasses perched on her nose.
"Oh my," she said with a half-smile, eyeing the clawed hand that set the clothes on the counter. "Not every day I see a demon in here. Let alone a polite one."
Sirus just handed over a gold rulen. "Keep the change." He said without care in his voice.
The woman blinked at the coin, then chuckled. "Alright, then. Everything's yours."
Selvynee slipped into the changing area and emerged a few minutes later—new clothes snug and warm, her old coat folded under her arm.
Sirus looked her over once. "Better."
She tilted her head. "You think so?"
"You don't look like you crawled through a swamp anymore."
Selvynee gave him a deadpan look, then bumped him with her elbow.
He bumped her back, just enough to make her stumble.
She stuck out her tongue. "Jerk."
Sirus held the door open for her, expression unreadable. "Come on. Let's go find breakfast before I change my mind about feeding you."
Selvynee lifted her chin in mock defiance, pouting as she stepped outside—only to stumble again on uneven footing.
"If it makes you feel better," Sirus muttered, narrowing his eyes at the buzzing crowd of humans around them, "I could kill everyone here."
He looked sideways, one brow raised.
Selvynee blinked, startled. "No… N-no need for that…"
Without looking back, he began walking. "Then stop fearing these idiotic humans," he said, cold and fierce.
His gaze dropped to his new clothes.
'I'll need to return later. See if they can tailor something for my legs. Shoes would be nice too…' He sighed internally, sulking. For now, barefoot and shorts will have to do.
They reached a small, quiet café tucked between two buildings. Sirus glanced back to confirm Selvynee was still trailing behind.
Slipping inside, a bell chimed softly overhead.
Selvynee peeked in behind him, her ears twitching. "It's empty," she whispered.
"Doesn't matter. Someone will come." Sirus scanned the shelves, eyes pausing on neatly stacked sandwiches and fresh rolls. "Pick anything you want. Then we'll deal with the mayor."
As they made their selections, a young woman stepped out from the back, stiff and wary. Her eyes widened at the sight of the pair, and her body locked up.
"C-can I h-help you…?" Her voice trembled, hair bristling with unease.
"How much?" Sirus asked, his voice low and dry.
The woman's eyes darted to their food—three sandwiches and a roll.
"F-five fifty bronze… rulen…" she managed.
Sirus set a silver coin on the counter without a second thought, not waiting for change.
Then he turned and walked straight out, not offering the woman another glance. Selvynee followed silently.
The girl behind the counter stared at the coin, stunned and still.
The cobbled path toward the town's center grew wider, cleaner. The smell of baked bread and old stone thickened in the air.
Sirus walked in silence, chewing through the last bite of his sandwich. Selvynee followed close behind, trying not to step on her own tail.
"You think he'll be angry?" she asked quietly.
"Not my problem." He replied.
The mayor's estate stood atop a gentle rise, a modest stone building guarded by two armored men. Both stiffened the moment they saw Sirus approach.
One reached for his weapon.
Sirus didn't slow down.
"W-we weren't expecting—"
"You don't need to," Sirus said flatly, brushing past them like mist. "Tell your boss the demon's here."
The guards exchanged a glance, but didn't stop him.
Inside, the estate was quiet, polished. A long hallway stretched ahead, lit by flickering lanterns. At the end of it stood a large wooden door—open.
A voice beckoned from within. "You may enter."
Sirus stepped through, crimson eyes locked forward. Selvynee hesitated a moment, then slipped in behind him.
The office was warm. Too warm. A fire crackled softly in the hearth despite the morning sun outside. Papers cluttered a grand oak desk where the mayor sat—mid-fifties, balding, with soft eyes and a tired smile that didn't reach them.
"Welcome back," the mayor said, folding his hands. "James told me you succeeded."
"I did," Sirus replied. His voice echoed slightly in the wood-paneled room.
The mayor's eyes flicked toward Selvynee. "And… you brought someone."
"She's with me."
The mayor hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Understood. You have my thanks, Sirus. Truly. That red ogre would've destroyed half the valley."
"I didn't do it for thanks," Sirus said, stepping closer. "I want something."
The mayor's smile faltered. "Of course. What is it?"
"A proper map of the region, and any rumors about demon tribes. But more importantly. Location of where the Holy Knight resides at."
Selvynee blinked at him, confused. Demons?
The mayor looked unsure, tugging at his collar. "I… I might be able to get that. But Sirus, if you're planning to stay in Kurts for long, I need to ask that you keep a low profile. There are—there are tensions. People are afraid."
Sirus leaned forward slightly, voice like frost. "They should be."
The mayor went quiet.
A full beat passed before Sirus stepped back, tone calm once more. "Just give me what I asked for."
"I'll have the information ready by evening," the mayor said carefully.
Sirus turned to leave. "Then we'll come back again."
He paused by the door, glancing over his shoulder.
"Don't let your people get too bold. I'm not in the mood to clean up their mistakes."
Then he left, Selvynee slipping out behind him like a shadow.