A lean, tall, light-skinned, and red-haired woman walks in from the bedroom. She has on the traditional Asturian long-sleeved white dress and a wide leather belt that goes from just below her naval to her ribs. Her hair is braided tightly on both sides, the top teased to give her an extra inch and falls loosely down her back. Nine other women follow her out, each wearing a similar gown and hairstyle. Fauna would've loved to have her hair done like theirs.

"Brandr, vad var det som hände?" She speaks in the Asturian language as she rushes over to Little Mouse.
His name may be Brandr, but I like Little Mouse better. I know how to speak Asturian, it wasn't one that my father had me learn, it was just one I was curious about. I suppose I should be thanking the Gods that I had picked up those books.

"I'm fine. We're fine," he sighs, using the common tongue.

She starts questioning him, pushing aside his clothes to see the wounds. I go to stand by the back wall, the others following. We're the guests here, and though I'd like to not waste time on fussing wives and brutish husbands, we need them in a good mood. They don't pay us much heed as they start conversing and yelling at each other. A few of the women say that their husbands are damned idiots who deserve the scars they get. Others are frantically trying to get the bleeding to stop, and Little Mouse's wife seems to be the only one just sitting there listening to her husband explain.

The children are nowhere to be seen, but I look out the window and find shadows on the building next to us cast from the sunset. Small forms run around, a few bearing a sword that's no doubt made of wood. Some may bear a steel sword as it's not an unusual sight to see in Astoria. They train their children from a young age to carry an ax or a sword.

Darius comes up to my shoulder, following my gaze to the shifting shadows. I bet you ten silver coins that he's thinking about the three orphans we left at Layara. Fauna isn't the only one for who Darius feels responsible for. He gave the orphans a home and a family, of a sort. Not the best put-together family, but a family. He blames himself for bringing them into the darkness of our world, and if Kat hadn't already been brought into it by Fey, then I would be blaming myself too - more than I already do.

"I can seal the wounds." I look at Darius, finding his eyes unnaturally calm. They're usually flooding with rage or determination, now they're just...stillwater.

"Using your power will only scare them more," Vlad says from behind us.

"If we're going to ask them to help, they may as well know what they're getting themselves into."

"They'll tell someone what they saw – who we are," Mal argues.

"Too late for that," I say. "Word would've traveled that I'm here, which means that sooner or later people are going to realize our purpose for being here – even if they think you're Jades."

"Better they think us Jades then know who Darius is," Garrison reasons.

I shrug, admitting that he made a point. "Maybe, but something tells me that Xaxias knows exactly where we are. If we were getting close, he'd have killed them already."

"So then what use do they have for us?"

"If they know something, then why are they still alive?" Ozzie looks at the foreign group questioningly, but I can see in his eyes that he doesn't want to kill him.

"Because he can't track them." They all look at me, and I give a quick glance to make sure the Asturians are temporarily distracted. "They ink their skins with special ruins that protect them from certain things depending on the markings."

"And they work?" Alex asks, looking unconvinced.

"Two years ago, I traveled to the tribes of Astoria chasing down a madman who murdered every child girl he came across. I killed him before he could slit the throat of an Astorian chief's daughter. In return, they taught me a few things, and gave me something for their thanks." I unbutton my right sleeve at the wrist, and then pull it up to reveal the mark the Astorian priestess inked in my skin.

"What-"

Before Benny can finish, I pull out a long knife and slam it through my right hand. It goes all the way through, and I fight the urge to grunt at the bite of the pain. Blood floods when I pull out the knife, and I slip it back into its sheath. I catch the blood with my cloak before it can fall to the ground.

"What the-"

"Are you insane?"

"You're psychotic."

"Look." I wave my bloody hand in front of them.

I don't have to see it to know what's happening. I can feel it. The mark starts to burn, going from black to a small bright yellow, and then the same burning feeling blooms on my palm, and my muscles and skin mend themselves back together. I'm not a healer, and I haven't needed one in two years thanks to this. A secret that's been hard to hide - especially from Fauna.

Wiping the still warm blood from my palm, I reveal the new and perfectly functional hand that I just impaled. I flex my fingers, finding nothing but a slight tingle as the nerves start firing into my hand again.

"The mark allows me to regenerate my cells quicker than that of a normal human. In other words, I can't be injured for more than a minute. I still tire - I still feel soreness and pain, and all the other luxuries of life the same as you do, I just heal really fast."

"And the mark...gave you that?" Henry asks. He looks down at my wrist again and I fight the urge to hide my hand behind my back. Astorian priestesses don't give runes like this away freely, so I've safeguarded it ever since, afraid that someone could mimic it and use it to do something truly idiotic.

"Before I went to Astoria, I would go to the healer at the House of Jade to care for my wounds. Paper cuts hurt like a bitch and they wouldn't go away for a day or two just as they're supposed to. After, I had a few Astorians stab me to see if it would really work with something fatal. I healed every time, even if they cut an artery."

"What about your heart?" Darius asks, still staring at my hand. I button my sleeve back up before he can get any ideas. I can already see the wheels turning in his head, and I need them to stop.

"If I pull it out quick enough, I'd heal, but if whatever pierced it stayed there, then I'd die."

"Does your sister-"

"No. She doesn't even know about it. If she did then she'd likely have stabbed me in the back several times already to scare the shit out of you guys."

"She has such dark humor," Ethan muses.

"Yes, and I would've pretended to drop dead and then be resurrected as a demon who couldn't be killed."

"I'm concerned for both of your children," Winston mumbles, his eyes wide as he stares at me. I smile, rather enjoying the thought.

"I'm concerned for myself," Amel counters, shifting his feet.

I turn to Darius and find his eyes still clear. He wasn't just asking to cauterize their wounds because he wanted to help them, he needs to release a damper on his power. He's holding too much of it in, and if he doesn't let it out, well...I'd prefer not to have to put one of them on my shoulders so they can clean up a tornado on the roof. Not to mention that he'd be asleep for four days before we could go anywhere.

"Of all people in the world, the Asturians would be the one to understand the magic and power that you have. They have markings of their own that guard them against most influences and temptations, but we need to ease them into it."

"So another lion is out of the question?" I give Darius a hard glare. "Ugh, fine. You suck the fun out of everything, you know that?"

"That's not the first time I've heard that. Or the hundredth for that matter."