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Valreth woke to the incredible smell of food, the scent of cooked, spiced meat filling his nose with the first conscious breath he took. He opened his eyes and wondered where he was, feeling sure that he'd died in his sleep and woken in some banquet hall of gods, since the first thing he saw was a plate of meat set out on the night table beside his bed.

"And here I thought you'd sleep through dinner," his mother's voice said.

He looked up, but she was just a big brown blur until he blinked the sleep from his eyes. The room was a large bedroom, with two wide beds draped in the colors of the wolfkin army, red and dark grey. His father was up, peering through the windows on the far side of the room, the curtains drawn.

"The academy's chefs were nice enough to bring us something," she said. "Eat. You need protein for those muscles."

He groaned and reached for the plate, but his mother's hand swatted his.

"Sit up first, you're not a mongrel," she chided. Her tone reminded him that despite all he'd seen her do the past few days, fighting through a crowd of bandits or traipsing through the forest with her blade ready to defend him, she was still very much his mother.

He threw off the bedsheets that covered him, the red fabric rustling as he sat upright. The academy. He remembered. They had finally made it to the mighty military city, Arland, where the wolfkin armies trained new recruits. The events came back to him slowly as he took the plate and began to eat, his mind still rousing. They'd been greeted at the gates by guards and soldiers of every rank, from fresh recruits with shiny new armor to grizzled war veterans with scars under their fur. They were all eager, not only to see his mother and father, who of course were legends in the war, but also to see him. The son of two war heroes, alchemically-enhanced soldiers—of course a place like this city would be full of prospective fans. But the only thing Val had been eager for at the time was a bed. His parents were stronger than he was, or perhaps they were simply better at hiding their own exhaustion, determined not to look weak in front of their old war friends.

And now here they were. Val ate quickly, out of both hunger and worry. If he'd really been asleep for a day, anything could have happened. He tried not to imagine the worst, but pictured some sort of evil wizard cabal turning up at the city gates and decimating the city's forces while he slept, all to get to him. But he was certain that would have woken him. And besides, the wolfkin army would not be so easily shaken. An attack on Arland would be an attack on them all.

He set his plate down and rose to his feet, grimacing as he found his legs stiff and sore from the day of travel through the dense forest, followed by a day of lying motionless on a bed. And there was all that running.

He suddenly remembered the wolfkin girl his father had shot. The wizard, her brown fur so much like his mother's, and her violet eyes. He wondered if his mother and father were still haunted by the faces of the ones they had killed or if this she-wolf was just another casualty in their quest to protect him.

"Anything happen while I was out?" he asked, stretching. He grunted as his back popped.

"Nothing other than a crowd of admirers asking for autographs," his mother sighed. "I nearly cramped my hand signing all those shields. Shields and swords and armor plates..."

"You have fan mail," his father said. Val's ears perked and his mother gestured to the pile of parchments on the table at the far side of the room.

"Don't worry, it's been checked for spells and poison," his father said, while still peering out the windows.

"That worry never crossed my mind, but it's great to know I'll now be paranoid about opening the mail," he sighed.

The first was a fairly standard letter of gratitude from one of the many townsfolk of Seral, thanking him for his bravery. Another was from a grateful family, with a drawing by a young wolfkin that warmed his heart.

"There's an invitation to the Talidran Adventurer's Guild," he said, skimming the third letter and looking at the seal at the bottom, a cutlass crossed with a spyglass. "And... Oh."

His heart twisted as he read the next one, a request for aid in dealing with a shadowy cult hidden in the Westvine forest.

"Someone asking for help," he sighed. Help he knew he couldn't give them, not from here.

"We won't stay long," his mother assured him.

"No," his father agreed, "just until things settle down."

"And when will that be?" he asked. They couldn't answer. He sighed and returned to the pile of mail, setting the letter aside and beginning to look through the items. There was a cloak colored in green and brown, clearly meant for camouflage, a dagger with his name engraved into the handle, a bouquet of flowers, and even an embroidered handkerchief. He was a little baffled by the last item.

"There was also a basket of baked goods," his mother said, taking a covered wicker basket from a nearby table and pulling back the cloth to reveal assorted honey rolls, cookies, miniature meat pies, and little cakes in the shape of dragons.

"It appears you have an admirer," his mother said, holding up a cookie shaped like a heart. Val grinned and reached for it. He was about to bite down when there came a knock at the door.

His father sped over and opened it slightly, peering through the crack, then decided the knocker was trustworthy and opened it all the way. An older wolf in red armor stood there, with grey fur that stuck up in spots and dull green eyes.

"Someone here to see you three," he said. "One is Savara Woodwalker."

His mother stood from her chair, ears perked.

"We've made sure she has nothing on her," the big wolf said.

"Is that—" Val started to ask. His father nodded before the question was fully formed.

The Alchemist. She was here?

"And the other?" Katok asked.

"Some wizard," the wolf said. The fur on the back of his father's neck stood and he saw his mother reach for her sword.

"She assures us she means no harm, but..." the wolf trailed off.

"But?" Valreth's father asked.

"You should hear it from her."

Katok's eyes narrowed.

"We took her arcane focus, if you're worried about her casting any spells," the wolf offered. "We can even have one of our battle mages cast an anti-magic field. It might take awhile."

"No, it's fine," he said. "Send them in."

The soldier stepped aside. The first one to walk into the room was an older she-wolf with sleek, black fur and bright yellow eyes, though their gaze was warm rather than piercing. His parents seemed discomforted at the sight of her, as if not realizing that she had aged as well in the years since they'd seen her.

The next one to come through the door caused a shock. Katok had drawn his blades and moved right in front of Valreth before he even knew what happened, but then he saw that the second visitor was the girl from before. The wolfkin who had died in the forest. Or at least one they thought had died.

The brown-furred she-wolf in robes cowered as she saw Katok and Fara draw their weapons, Katok wielding a pair of daggers and Fara a long greatsword. The older she-wolf, the black-furred alchemist whom the soldier had called Savara, held up her hands in a defensive gesture, ushering them to put their weapons down.

"Please, wait!" the wizard said, arms in front of her face. "I just... I just want to talk!"

"Hear the girl out," the Alchemist said. "We won't hurt you."

"Why should we trust you?" Katok snarled at her. The she-wolf blinked and gave a scoff, as if offended.

"You act as though I strapped you down and performed arcane experiments on you," she said indignantly. "Lest you forget, you both agreed to take those concoctions I brewed for you."

"That was years ago," his mother said from behind him. "Why should we trust you now?"

"And you, with your resurrection spells?" Katok said to the other.

"I did try to tell you killing me won't get you anywhere," she said.

"But now you're out of magic, and even if you've got another of those spells on you now, I'm betting it takes awhile to cast another," Katok said. "I promise you, this time, I'll make sure you're dead."

"With the five of us all here in this room?" the alchemist said, crossing her arms. "Your son would be unharmed, of course, and you might escape with some nasty burns, but I doubt your wife could get clear in time. And besides, it seems a shame to burn down the academy we trained in, no?"

Val hadn't realized the alchemist studied at the academy as well. But despite her points and the attempt to make his parents empathize, they seemed unconvinced.

"Look," the younger brown-fur said, "it won't matter anyway. What protects me isn't a spell. It's not magic of any kind. It's alchemical."

"She's one of yours?" Katok growled to the Alchemist. The woman looked solemn.

"No," she said. "She's yours."

They looked back at the younger wolfkin again, her violet eyes shining like amethysts.

"I'm your daughter," she whispered, her voice breaking at the final word.

Katok's daggers dropped to the floor, Fara's greatsword a much louder sound only a moment later as it did the same.

"But how...?" Katok asked. "How can you be..."

"You... you were stillborn," Fara gasped. "How are you here?"

"They burned my body and it... ignited something," the brown-furred wolfkin gasped. "I came back, a crying newborn among the ashes. It's how I got my name. Ash."

Fara ran forward and put her arms around the younger wolfkin, causing her to squeak in surprise and give a strangled groan as she became suddenly very familiar with Fara's supernatural strength.

"Sorry," Fara chuckled, loosening her grip.

"It's—Oh!" Ash started as suddenly Katok had rushed forward with a whip of wind and pulled his own arms around her.

Valreth was stunned, not entirely certain whether he should join in.

"So I... have a sister?" he asked.

"It would seem so," his mother chuckled.

Val walked up with a growing smile and joined the impromptu family group hug. Ash was surprisingly tall, almost as tall as his mother was. She did also smell a little like ash, but in a good way, like the embers of a campfire.

There was a sniffle and they all looked up to see the Alchemist, Savara, was wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just got caught up in all this," she said with a laugh, gesturing at the four of them.

"Oh gods," Valreth heard his father say, an uncharacteristic look of horror coming over his face. "You're... you're our daughter and I... I killed you."

But Ash just pulled him into another hug, a more personal one between the two of them.

"It's alright, father," she whispered. "I forgive you."