Aethe was a small farming village. As Iliana stared around from the back of the cart, she found very little that distinguished it from any Aeolian town of the same vein. The houses were worn, the streets dusty, and the people disinterested in strangers. As they trudged their way towards the local inn, Iliana only caught a few eyes flickering their way as the villagers went about their daily routines.

"Natia! You fuckin' 'mare, where'd ya git to this time?"

The shout drew Iliana's attention as the cart slowed to a stop. Near what appeared to be the stables, stood a tall Eolesian man. He was broad, with sun-kissed skin and light hair. Her best guess placed him somewhere in his late thirties. The inn-owner, perhaps, or someone staying the night like they were about to do.

As she watched, the man cursed a few more times, kicked the door of one of the stalls, and stormed off towards the inn. Eumelia beckoned her out of the cart about that moment, so she jumped down, eyes flicking between their group and the inn doors. The anger he'd displayed... felt familiar. Whomever Natia was, was in for a lot of trouble when the man found them. Iliana hoped she was wrong about the nature the punishment would take... but, she didn't think she was.

When she finally pulled her attention away and focused on the group, she realized Callias was watching the stables with a small frown. Following his gaze, Iliana spotted a small figure peering out from behind one of the stall doors. Their body was hidden in a cloak of worn material. It was thin, and ragged, with holes and patches of thin fabric. It appeared to be heavier around their neck. As the person turned away, fingers tugging on the hood as if to make sure it wouldn't fall, Iliana realized why. Their action had shifted the hood just enough, giving her a glimpse of the iron beneath.

They were wearing a slave collar.

A hand skimmed her elbow, making Iliana jump. Her eyes flicked away to find Callias at her side. When he'd moved, she had no idea. He gave a small shake of his head, and nodded towards the entrance to the inn, where Lykos, Abiel, and Eumelia were already starting in. Her attention drew back to the stables.

"They're..." she began, trailing off as the word caught in her throat.

She'd seen slaves before. It was impossible to travel as she had, and live in the state of nobility her sister had married them into, without seeing slavery at least a few times. For some reason, however... it felt different at this moment.

Perhaps because there was nothing stopping her from walking over and talking to them. Well, except Semele. But from the frown the harpy was wearing, Iliana had the distinct feeling she wouldn't intervene.

"They're a nightmare," Semele said after a moment.

Iliana tensed, the knot in her stomach tightening in a different manner. She knew nightmares were occasionally... people-like. Alake had been a good example of that. But... she'd forgotten that in Eol, it was common to see the intelligent ones shackled like this. Normal, human slaves belonged solely to those who could afford such a thing, as buying a person who'd been... properly trained--even thinking those words made her grimace--was expensive. Nightmares, though, were often sold for cheap, given how numerous they were, and how a lot of people viewed them as bad luck.

"What sort?" Iliana found herself asking, as the figure pulled a pitchfork down from the wall and began working on the stalls. She hadn't noticed, initially, but they felt different than Callias, and Semele. That sixth sense told her that the person was... different, not human, but that was it.

"Animal folk, I think," Semele murmured, her brow furrowed. Her feathers ruffled, before her wings settled comfortably against her back. "Wolf, or lizard. It's hard to tell."

"We... can't help them, can we?" Iliana asked, tucking a hand around herself. Her fingers curled into the dusty fabric of her travel dress.

"Never say can't," Semele countered, then started across the yard without another word.

Only hesitating for a moment, Iliana darted away from the cart to join her. The crew members who'd been minding the cart stayed behind, but she distinctly felt Callias's presence as he followed.

"Excuse me," Semele called.

The figure paused, and tension touched the air. This close, she realized the nightmare was smaller than her, maybe five foot at the most. She doubted it. And as they turned to face her, pushing down the hood of their cloak, Iliana's eyes were drawn to gaunt cheeks and sharp features.

The innkeeper was lucky Iliana wasn't armed.

The girl's age was hard to read. She might've been small because she was young, because of the obvious signs she wasn't being given enough food, or both. Her dark tan skin was freckled, and drawn tight over her thin frame. Anywhere between eight to twelve would be a fitting guess. Her dark brunette hair hung to her chin in greasy curls, framing her startlingly violet eyes.

"Yes?"

The question was careful, and near stammered. Not in the manner of someone scared, although the girl certainly didn't feel confident either, but in the way of a person who was uncertain about what they were saying. As if the word was a test of language.

"Does the man who was yelling before own you?" Semele demanded.

Iliana grimaced. Even she got the feeling that was a bit too blunt.

"Man?" The girl furrowed her brow, hand raising to her lips. The barest bit of her nail touched her mouth as she seemed to consider the question with careful thought. Then, she nodded. "Akile."

"That's his name?" Iliana prompted.

The nightmare's eyes flicked to her, the wary violet studying her cautiously. "Yes. Akile."

Semele ruffled her feathers, arms crossing over her chest.

"And your name, wolf?"

It was the eyes, Iliana realized as she tried to decipher when Semele had figured out what the girl was. Violet was the color of Aion, and he was the creator of the lycanthropes. Well, as much as any god could be called the creator of their nightmares.

"Natia." She hesitated. "Good. Not bad. Please."

Iliana was reminded of the man's anger as he called for her. Did she think they were going to report her to the innkeeper, since it was so clear that she'd been hiding from him?

"We know," Semele replied, voice dropping into a soft, soothing tone. "Thank you for answering our questions. Let me see your hand."

The girl shrank back a step, hesitant eyes switching between them. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand as requested, offering it to them palm up. Iliana drew in a sharp breath as the action shifted Natia's cloak, revealing the deep scarring around her wrist, and the old, healed lacerations across her palm. The first had the look of restraint scars. Which... wasn't surprising. Iliana'd been on the way to earning some herself from the cuffs before Eumelia'd healed her raw wrists. The other... punishment, perhaps?

The amount of anger that swept through her at the thought was overwhelming. Despite everything, the feeling seemed to rival the emotions Lykos stirred in her. At least he wasn't needlessly cruel. He didn't beat her. He hadn't starved her or called her as Alike had done Natia.

Her nails curled into her palms as her mind drew up images of strangling the man.

Worse, was the still existing fear that there was nothing they could do. Callias and her were captives, and despite the tension in his body, and the way he was watching Natia with every emotion, but none in that blank expression of his, they had no way of removing the collar encircling Natia's neck. Eumelia probably could, but... why would she bother? Lykos carried slave cuffs, and collars. Despite the rumors that the Unseen Hand freed the bound... would he really carry those if it were true?

Would he have cuffed her?

"Here," Semele said, placing a single, shimmering jewel in Natia's dirty palm. The gem was coin-cut, and red. At Iliana's best guess, it was the merchant equivalent of three gold. It surprised her somewhat. Gem trading was more common in Cieon, even if it was accepted anywhere. Natia's eyes widened as she hesitantly glanced between them, fingers unmoving.

"Mine?"

Semele nodded. "For your help."

More like, for food, Iliana thought. But, would a slave-bound nightmare really have the chance to spend that gem, let alone buy food with it?

Natia stared down at the gem in her palm for a full, silent second before she nodded and curled her fingers around it. She then studied them once more, before taking a step back and gripping the edges of her hood with her thin fingers.

"Thank. Need work," she said. Her words were short, tone hesitant. "But thank."

And with that, she shoved the coin into what must've been a hidden pocket in her cloak, before returning to her task of shoveling the stall.

"What're we--" Iliana began.

Semele shook her head, making a negative hand motion over her throat. Then, she started for the door to the inn. "Not here."

Iliana hesitated, glancing between the harpy and Natia. Did that mean they were going to help?

It wasn't until the door shut behind her and Callias that she realized the seconds after Semele had left had been a chance to run. She'd been too distracted by Natia to realize that they'd been carelessly left alone. Stupid.

Not here also apparently meant not now. It wasn't until hours later that Iliana, Lykos, Callias, Eumelia, and Semele gathered in one of the three rooms they'd rented on the second floor. Apparently, stowing the cart, eating dinner, glaring daggers at Akile, and listening to a bard play the lyre were all much more important tasks.

"Well," Iliana demanded as the last person filed into the room, shutting the door behind them. "We're helping her, right?"

Lykos grimaced, shoving his hair back, and leaving his fingers just barely tangled at his temple. He then shared a look with Eumelia that lit a flame in Iliana's stomach. He really was going to ignore the girl. It couldn't have been because she was a nightmare. Alake was a nightmare, after all.

She looked to Semele for help when the silence stretched, and Lykos wouldn't meet her gaze. The harpy was studying him with a faint frown, wings raised just barely off her back. It gave Iliana the impression of an irritated bird... which, she figured was pretty close to the truth.

"We are," Semele replied.

That hot feeling cooled the faintest bit, even as Lykos groaned and dragged his hand down his face.

"Gods, Semele. We can't."

"You saw her, Lykos," Semele argued. "Just because you claim to have left the Wolves doesn't mean you've forgotten what you taught us, does it? Because if it has, then I might as well just leave. You can handle escorting the siren cross-country on your own. See how well you manage not to lose her again without me."

Iliana felt sick.

Her initial thought at Semele's words had been that maybe it'd be better, then, if Lykos refused to help the nightmare.

Fates, how horrid was she to think something like that? Natia was a child. A starving, enslaved child.

What right did Iliana have to put her freedom above another's?

"We'd have to take her with us," Lykos muttered, leaving his hand over his face. "There isn't a ward in this area. Too many slave markets and traders for it to be safe. And we don't have the time or ability to backtrack to Nokos."

"Then we take her with us!" Semele argued.

"Across the mountains?" Lykos demanded. "It's approaching fall, Semele. We'll barely make the trip ourselves before the snow hits, making the pass impossible. What right do we have to bring a child into that? And what if he tries to send someone after us to get her back? We don't exactly blend in right now."

Semele's answering smile was chilling. "Oh, no need to worry about that, Wolf. You need to be among the living to hire sellswords. And she's a wolf, Lykos. Her kind thrive in the mountains."

He sighed again, bringing his other hand up to his face. He mumbled against his palms, the words too muffled for Iliana to understand. Callias stepped towards him, then, that unreadable expression on his face... and like Semele, Akile's death shone in his cold eyes.

"I'll help... please."

The mercenary said nothing.

"Lykos," Eumelia murmured.

Lykos stilled. There was a moment where his fingers curled against his face, his body so tense Iliana wasn't sure he was breathing. Then, he slowly withdrew his hands and glanced between all of them, his eyes lingering on Callias, then slipping to Eumelia, then to an empty part of the room. It stayed there longer than anywhere else, then he groaned, and dropped backwards on the thin inn bed.

"Fine, fine. You all win."

A warm relief flooded Iliana's body, her mind pulling up Natia's gaunt face.

"What sort of wolves would we be if we didn't rescue one of our own?"