An unpleasant mixture of blood, sweat, urine, and fear hung in the damp air of the prison vault. Zane sat slumped against the wall of his tiny cell like a beaten dog. His injured leg stretched out, the other pulled close to him, his upper body bent forwards. Only the chains of cold-forged iron held him upright just enough to prevent him from toppling forward and lying on the dirty stone.

The sobs and moans of the slaves mingled with the rattling of the chains and the coughing of the sick. Prisoners filled the cells. While above their heads, goods, including people, were offered for sale like unique rarities, others waited to be led onto the stage to change hands down here.

No doubt Kaye would have taken pity on these creatures.

The younger brother would have gone as mad as he was angry at the sound of their fear and would have done anything to free them. After all, it had also been his crazy idea to free the treacherous creatures and lead them to freedom that had ultimately robbed him of his life: the humans.

But who cared about that?

Kaye had died an outcast as a nothing and a traitor who had voluntarily followed him to damnation. No one would remember an insignificant Cait-Sith, let alone his name. There was no gravestone to mourn at, even if there was someone to weep for her.

Her parents had died long ago, and everyone she called friends had been killed in the first or second war or had turned their backs on them after exile. Back then ... when he took the blame, even though he had done nothing to deserve the dishonor.

Zane felt empty and powerless. He didn't even know how much time had passed since he had been dragged into this hole like a dog on a leash. His will to fight had been extinguished when the dagger had been pulled from his coat pocket.

He had briefly wondered how the weapon he had searched for so persistently could have ended up in his coat. And yes, the first answer that came to his mind was that of the sneaky Strigoi. She was so close to him... And he was distracted. But the thought vanished as quickly as it had come.

There was no point anyway. No one would believe him whether he denied it or not. He was an apostate, now facing death without justice having been served. He was the only witness who had witnessed the murder and seen the fleeing figure in the catacombs.

He would die while the murderer continued to roam the world, and his brother's spirit would never find peace. It was only a matter of time. His head would roll when the full moon set, and the auction ended. Until then, they might still be discussing who would have the honor of collecting his bounty.

All he had left were the few moments until his end. Miserable as they might be, he could decorate them with the memories he had left.

"Zane!"

The chains rattled softly as he straightened up a little to relieve the uncomfortable pressure on his chest. His head sank onto the cold stone behind him as he closed his eyes.

He almost felt as if he could feel the sun's warm rays on his body again. The memory lulled him like a lullaby, and the cold stone gave way to the feeling of warmth and moss. Soft, green grass on which he had laid his body tickled his paws and smelled of nature...

"Zane! Zane!"

The excited voice came through to him. It made him open his eyes and lift his head heavily. The growl slipped softly from the warrior's chest as he opened one eye a crack and saw Kaye rushing towards him.

His usually calm and composed brother was visibly agitated. His dark hair, with the shadow of a beard, looked disheveled by the wind and haste. His amber-colored eyes, which shimmered almost golden in the sun, were wide open.

Fine wrinkles stretched across the face that had just been relaxed. The warrior's hardness, from which he had wanted to free himself for a moment, immediately returned. But his brother's heavy breathing, which bore witness to a wild race, and the hurried expression in his otherwise warm eyes, which always sparkled with mischief and mischief, alerted the warrior like the ringing of bells.

"Kaye?" Zane heard his own voice as he instinctively jumped to his feet. His warrior instinct awoke immediately. Vigilantly, his eyes glided around, scanning the silhouettes of the houses around the tiny green patch he had retreated to. He listened, sucked the air deep into his lungs, and wrinkled his nose. But the wind carried no unusual odor, nor did he hear the sound of an attack.

"Kaye, what's going on?"

The younger man had finally reached him. Panting, he put his hands on his hips, bent over, and gasped for air. His brother was shorter than him so he could look down on him. He was less well-trained, although Kaye, like almost all Cait-Sith, had an athletic build. But he was not a warrior, not a fighter. Not someone forged for battle.

"They are coming! The king's men! They think you betrayed them! The king wants your head!" the dark-haired Cait-Sith gasped. "You have to go! Quick, come!"

"What?" Confused, Zane shook his head and stared at Kaye as if he had just served him a frog for dinner.

Kaye had really started spinning since they'd been in the human world. This was another one of his ridiculous jokes. Laughing softly, Zane flopped back onto his natural bed before rolling his eyes in annoyance. Snorting, he tucked his arms under his head.

"What's this nonsense?" he grumbled good-naturedly. "You don't joke about that; leave me alone."

"This isn't a joke!" A soft rustling of earth and grass accompanied the frantic footsteps before a hand restlessly grabbed the lapel of his clothes and pulled him up so the two brothers were face to face. "You don't understand! Brother! Please!"

Zane blinked slowly as he met the rushed, anxious gaze, and the realization seeped into his head like honey from a bee's nest: Kaye wasn't joking.

"What have you done?" Zane mumbled slowly, dragging out each word.

"I ... I ..." Kaye seemed to be getting increasingly agitated. His eyes wandered, and his shoulders shook. Guilt was written as clearly on his face as black letters on a sheet of parchment.

They were brothers. They knew and understood each other. A bond like that of twins was something special. The look on Kaye's face told Zane more than a thousand words. The warrior closed his eyes again before taking his hand and gently removing it from his coat.

"Go, Kaye," Zane whispered. "Leave this to me and hide, or you'll be hunted too. Don't worry about it. I've served Oberon for a very long time. Nothing will happen to me."

It was strange that of all his memories, this one popped into his head.

The moment that changed everything. The moment that freed him from his chains as King Oberin's bloodhound and at the same time cast a new, heavy fate over him like a net.

He had even known it when he had taken the blame to protect Kaye: That his brother was hiding something from him. Kaye was always stealing away or disappearing overnight. But he was a grown man and had always been restless.

While Zane, like many other beings in the first cycle, tended to keep to his own kind, Kaye was far too curious. That was why Zane hadn't questioned his behavior when the younger one slipped out the window. They were brothers. And brothers stuck together. Especially Kaye and him, because they only had each other.

Back then, his only thought had been to protect Kaye as he faced the wrath of his king. He had sunk to his knees, bowed his head, and surrendered to judgment. Zane was the king's bloodhound, a war hero, respected and honored. So he could expect a... lenient judgment, well, more or less. But Kaye?

Kaye was one of many. Dispensable, insignificant in the eyes of the king. He wanted to protect him, even if he had to throw himself in front of him.

But in the end, he had only delayed the inevitable. Kaye had followed him, but he was not made for this existence—a life in the ruins of a strange world, in the dirt with the scum. Constantly hunted and pursued.

Zane saw how Kaye changed after hiding in the catacombs. The light seemed to fade from the younger man's eyes and return less and less often. He saw all the suffering of the humans and the enslaved beings, and his soft, compassionate heart broke. He wanted to pay a debt and stay with him.

Maybe that undead rat, as much as he hated Casimir, was somehow right: he was a murderer, and in the end, there was blood on him because he hadn't sent his brother back...

With a groan, Zane's chin sank back down.

His throat tightened at the thought as if a rope had been tied around his neck. As hard as he gritted his teeth, he couldn't hold back the hot tears that made their way down his cheeks.

He had failed.

He was responsible for his brother's murder.

He deserved to die.

Perhaps all the suffering that had been tearing at his soul since Kaye's death would finally come to an end, and he could at least find some peace through death.

>>"Find Myra... protect her... promise me... she is..."<<

He opened his eyes, stared at the dark, grey stone, and smiled sadly. He hadn't known it then, hadn't even suspected it. But now, the puzzle pieces lay so open before him that even a blind man could not have missed them.

It was her.

She was the reason.

Myra.

She had said it herself ... Kaye had come to her again and again...

Lost in his thoughts, the Cait-Sith didn't even notice the footsteps that echoed off the walls like soft drums.