Chapter 43 – “Finally.”
Sunlight cuts through the curtains in long golden stripes, brushing across the tangle of limbs sprawled over the oversized harem bed. The air smells faintly of lavender oil and last night’s candle wax, warm and soft as a sigh.
I’m the first to stir.
A leader doesn’t sleep in. …unless softly coaxed anyway.
Kit’s arm is draped across my chest like a silken rope, her fingers twitching as if holding onto a dream. Raka is dead to the world against my side, snoring softly, wolf ears twitching with every distant market sound filtering through the balcony.
And then there’s Perri.
Not here.
For one heart-stopping second, I think she bolted in the night.
I ease out of the bed, ignoring Kit’s sleepy protest and Raka’s low growl, then pad barefoot across the apartment.
The smell hits me before I see her.
Sizzling butter. Baked bread. Something sweet.
I step into the tiny kitchen and stop.
There she is.
Perri stands on tiptoe at the stove, apron tied haphazardly over her nightgown, long ears twitching with every movement. Sunlight pours in, catching the curve of her smile as she hums a bright, hopeful little tune.
The bond hums too, filled with warmth and pride so strong it makes my throat tighten.
She notices me, freezes, then blushes pink from ears to collarbone.
“I… wanted to do something for you. For all of you,” she says, voice trembling but proud. “I thought… maybe I can’t fight like you yet, but… I can do this.”
The table is already set.
Neat. Simple. Beautiful.
Four plates. Steaming mugs. A little vase with wildflowers.
Home.
Behind me, Kit and Raka shuffle in, hair tousled, still wrapped in blankets. Kit leans in the doorway with a sly grin.
“Look at that,” she purrs. “Our little bunny’s already spoiling us.”
Raka yawns, rubbing her eyes, then cracks a rare smile.
“Smells better than half the taverns we’ve eaten in.”
I step closer, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and as naturally as breathing, my hand brushes Perri’s hip and gives her a lazy squeeze.
“Smells amazing,” I murmur, voice gravelly from sleep.
The little rabbit freezes mid-stir, ears shooting straight up. Her blush blooms crimson as she squeaks out something that sounds like, “T-Thank you!”
Behind me, Kit lets out a sly, throaty chuckle.
“Well, someone’s settling in nicely.”
I move closer to Perri, resting a hand on her shoulder. She looks up, wide-eyed, and the bond goes soft between us.
“You’re not just part of this family, Perri,” I say. “You are its heart.”
Her ears twitch, and that shy smile curves brighter.
“Then I’ll make sure this heart never lets you down,” she whispers.
The next week passes in Kobold Caverns.
One last week of damp stone, torch smoke, old blood, and kobold screams echoing through the dark.
By now, Perri doesn’t tremble when she steps inside.
She still hates it. I can feel that through the bond every morning. The killing still sits wrong in her chest, and every smoking corpse still costs her something. But her hands are steady now, and her Radiant Shield no longer buckles under rusty blades.
In fact, it doesn’t buckle at all.
The kobolds come at her the way they always do.
Fast. Ugly. Mean.
And Perri answers the same way every time.
Radiant Shield.
Sacred Flame.
Prayer of Healing, when it’s needed.
Again and again, until it stops looking like survival and starts looking like the same ugly grind the rest of us remember from the climb to Level 15.
Ed still follows her into every tunnel, all bone, roses, and silent devotion, but he doesn’t have to step in anymore. Not really. His vines twitch now and then when a spear gets too close or a blade scrapes her barrier, but Perri handles it. He still speeds things up, but not much faster than she can manage on her own.
By the end of the week, the caverns feel almost bored with us.
Then the final chamber pretends the cavern still has teeth.
The air reeks of bitter smoke and old blood. Crimson sigils crawl across the stone walls, pulsing like veins. In the center of the chamber waits another kobold Elite, taller than most, wrapped in torn robes and shadow. Its eyes burn sickly green, and the black staff in its claws clicks softly with little carved teeth.
The HUD flashes.
[Kobold Warlock – Elite]
Perri stops beside me.
For half a second, she looks tired.
Then her ears lift.
The warlock hisses, voice scraping through the chamber.
“Light… dies… here.”
Perri raises one hand.
“No,” she says softly.
Just that.
No.
Then she steps past me, staff glowing gold in both hands.
“Not while I still breathe.”
The warlock strikes first. Eldritch Bolt. Green-black force tears across the chamber and slams into her barrier.
Radiant Shield.
The magical bolt shatters against the barrier in a spray of sparks, but the shield holds. Solid.
Perri slides back one step.
Then plants.
Sacred Flame.
Holy fire drops through the dark, burning across the warlock’s robes and driving it back with a shriek.
It doesn’t fall.
The warlock snarls through the burn and throws up a ward of green-black smoke. For a moment, the flame bends around it.
Sacred Flame.
Sacred Flame.
“Sacred Flame.”
This time, she casts point-blank. The chamber turns white.
When the glare fades, the warlock is ash.
For one breath, none of us moves.
Then the HUD blooms in my sight.
[Perri — Level 15]
I just stare.
Level 15.
Finally.
Perri feels the level-up hit before I say a word. Her eyes flick to me, wide and disbelieving, while the HUD notification hangs in my sight. She knows what happened, but she can’t quite make herself believe it yet.
Then something clatters softly against the stone beside the ash.
A loot box.
She kneels to pick it up, the personal loot only deepening the disbelief on her face.
[Perri has reached Level 15.]
[Choose a subclass.]
Everything in me goes still.
This is it.
Perri kneels in the torchlight, ash drifting around her like black snow.
She looks exhausted.
Small.
Beautiful.
And nothing like prey.
The HUD waits.
[Choose Perri’s Subclass.]
I swallow hard.
“Alright, little rabbit,” I whisper.
The bond hums warm and bright around us.
“Let’s see what you’re becoming.”
The HUD opens wider.
A list of subclasses spills across my vision, six options at first, with more tucked below, waiting to be scrolled through.
I glance at Perri.
She is still breathing hard. Exhaustion hangs off her in every line, but there is something bright under it now, something almost holy. The cavern light dances in her wide green eyes, and through the bond I feel everything in her at once.
Hope.
Pride.
A flicker of fear at the choice waiting in front of her.
Then her lips part.
“It’s over,” she whispers. “The killing is finally over.”
My chest tightens.
I don’t correct her.
Not here. Not now.
I let her have the moment.
“Ready to pick?” I ask gently. “I’ll go over them with you.”
The HUD highlights the first few options.
[Dawncaller]
Master of radiant damage. Channels blazing sunlight for offensive spells and wide-area bursts.
[Soul Aegis]
Defensive powerhouse. Barriers and healing magnified. Group protection and support enhanced.
[Lumina Ascendant]
Balanced radiant path. Blends offense, healing, aura-based support, and light-infused strikes.
More options wait below, but Perri’s heart locks on the second one.
“I want Soul Aegis,” she says softly.
Then, firmer:
“To protect you all. To be the shield for our family.” Her resolve tightens. “My heart is in guarding.”
The bond pulses warm around us, trust and purpose weaving through the dark like gold thread.
I study her face for a second.
“You sure?” I ask. “You don’t want to talk through the rest?”
Perri lifts her chin.
Still exhausted.
Still blood-streaked.
But steady.
“I’ll fight when I must,” she says. Then a tiny spark of pride slips through the bond. “Better than most healers now, I think.”
I blink.
Did Perri just boast?
Her cheeks color at once, but she does not take it back.
“But I want to protect,” she finishes. “That’s what I choose.”
I smile despite myself.
“Then that’s what you are.”
I select it.
[Subclass Selected: Soul Aegis]
The change is instant.
Perri gasps as the light blooms under her skin, not around her this time, but through her. Soft gold radiance spills from beneath the blood, dust, and torn fabric, turning her small frame luminous in the cavern dark.
Her eyes change first. Not color. Shape.
The wide, frightened look that has followed her since the cage finally settles into something steadier. Something protective.
Steady like Raka.
Fierce like Kit.
Brave in a way that is all her own.
Through the bond, I feel the others notice it too. Kit’s pride flashes bright and sharp. Raka’s comes slower, deeper, warm as a hand against Perri’s back.
Our little rabbit shines.
Perri looks down at herself, breath catching, one hand pressed to her chest as if she can feel the subclass settling into her bones.
“Soul Aegis,” she whispers.
I smile, throat tight.
“No cooking tonight, Perri.”
Her ears twitch as she looks up at me.
“We’re going for a well-earned celebration.”
For a second, she looks like she might argue.
Then she nods, and somehow the last of the exhaustion falls away from her.
Not gone.
Just outshone.
The dank torchlight of Kobold Caverns fades behind us with every step, and for once, I don’t look back. No more damp stone. No more kobold screams. No more desperate fights just to keep Perri standing long enough to take the next step. The weight of weeks starts easing off my shoulders one breath at a time.
Tonight, we celebrate.
Kit and Raka are already waiting near the road when we emerge. Kit reaches us first, eyes bright as she takes Perri in from ears to toes, while Raka follows half a step behind, golden eyes scanning the little rabbit like she’s checking for hidden wounds. Perri stands there, still glowing faintly from the subclass change, still trying to process that she actually made it.
Level 15.
Soul Aegis.
Ours.
Kit smiles first. “Well, look at you.”
Perri blushes immediately. “I… I’m still me.”
Raka grins, slow and proud. “Better.”
That almost makes Perri cry, so I save her with the only mercy this situation deserves. “No training. No caverns. No one is allowed to be brave for at least six hours.”
Kit arches a brow. “Is that an order, Master?”
“Damn right.”
Raka’s grin widens. “Feisty Dwarf?”
“Feisty Dwarf.”
Perri’s ears lift. “We’re really celebrating?”
I look down at her and smile. “Little rabbit, we’re getting blitzed.”
Then I glance at Ed.
He stands just behind Perri, silent as ever, roses dark against white bone, hollow sockets fixed on us like he understands more than he should.
“Ed,” I say, “I’ll get you an ale to go later.”
Kit snorts.
Raka actually laughs.
“I’d have you celebrate with us,” I add, “but dragging a thorn revenant into the Feisty Dwarf would probably get frowned upon.”
Ed’s jaw shifts.
I point at him before the whisper can come.
“Love you too, buddy.”
For a second, the whole road goes quiet.
Perri looks at him with soft, aching gratitude, and the bond warms around her like sunlight touching old bruises.
Then I lift the Ring of Sanguis.
“Rest.”
Ed sinks back into shadow, bone, roses, and silence, wilting into the earth like a nightmare finally allowed to sleep. When he is gone, the road shows no crack, no disturbed soil, no sign he was ever there at all.
Perri watches until he is gone.
Then she looks at me.
“He helped me get here,” she says quietly.
“I know,” I answer.
Then I offer her my hand.
“Now let’s go celebrate what you did with it.”
The Feisty Dwarf swallows us whole the moment we push through the door, all warm hearthlight, pipe smoke, laughter, and tankards slamming against scarred wooden tables. The Half-Drunken Dwarven Bard is already in his corner, hammering out something ridiculous on his dulcimer while belting a song about axes, ale, and ankle-biters. The crowd claps along badly enough to make it better, and the smell of roasted meat and spilled beer hits me like a balm.
The apartment is ours now, but gods, it’s good to be back.
We claim our usual corner booth. Kit slides in first, eyes already tracking every passing tray like a cat stalking prey. Raka drops onto the bench with enough force to rattle the mugs. Perri hovers awkwardly for half a heartbeat before I tug her down beside me.
“First round’s on me,” I announce, dropping a heavy coin purse onto the table.
“First?” Kit asks, amber eyes glittering. “What are you planning for the second? Third? Fourth?”
“Blackout,” Raka growls approvingly, pounding the table hard enough to make Perri squeak.
“You mean for you,” Kit fires back. “I’ve seen you after three mugs. You howl at the moon and try to wrestle chairs.”
Raka looks genuinely offended. “Chairs started it.”
Perri presses both hands over her mouth, but the laugh escapes anyway. That alone is worth the coin.
The drinks arrive, foam spilling over almost as much as the Busty Barmaid carrying them, amber liquid glowing in the firelight as she sets the mugs down with a grin that says she knows exactly what kind of trouble our table is about to become. Perri picks hers up timidly, sniffing the froth like it might bite her.
Kit leans close. “You’re not a little bunny forever. Drink up.”
Perri takes the smallest sip imaginable, scrunches her nose, then blinks.
Then she gulps half the mug.
The table erupts.
“That’s my girl,” I laugh, ruffling her hair.
She coughs, blushes, and clutches the mug to her chest like she’s won a duel.
Raka clinks her tankard against Perri’s with a grin. “She’s got spirit. Gonna make a proper hunter out of you yet.”
“I’m a healer,” Perri protests weakly.
“You hit things with a staff and set kobolds on fire,” Kit says. “Labels are flexible.”
From the corner, the Half-Drunken Dwarven Bard shifts into something bawdier, his dulcimer ringing bright under the stomp of the room. The new song is mostly about kisses, kegs, and regrettable dwarven courtship, and the Feisty Dwarf eats it up.
Kit leans across the table toward me, eyes glittering with wicked memory.
“Bet you won’t smolder the barmaid this time.”
I point at her. “That was not entirely my fault.”
Raka laughs, teeth flashing. “It was mostly your fault.”
Perri goes crimson and hides behind her mug. “You’re all terrible.”
Kit winks at her. “You’ll learn.”
The night stretches warm around us. Food arrives. More drinks follow. Kit steals from everyone’s plate and denies it with sauce on her fingers. Raka tells Perri an extremely serious story about the chair she once defeated in single combat. The bard hammers the dulcimer harder every time the room gets louder, as if he’s personally responsible for keeping the whole tavern from sobering up.
Perri laughs so hard she nearly spills her second mug, and the bond hums brighter every time she forgets to be nervous.
That’s when I remember.
Probably because I’m buzzed enough for thoughts to arrive out of order.
“Wait,” I say, sitting up a little too fast. “Loot box.”
Kit pauses with a stolen potato halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“The parting gift.” I point at Perri with all the dignity of a man who is definitely on his third drink. “Kobold Caverns gave you a goodbye present.”
Perri blinks at me, then down at her pack. “Oh! I forgot.”
Raka stares at her. “You forgot treasure?”
“I was distracted,” Perri says, cheeks pink.
“By becoming radiant,” Kit says solemnly.
“Very distracting,” I agree.
Perri fumbles the little loot box onto the table, and for a second, even the noise of the Feisty Dwarf seems to soften around us. The box is plain, dark wood and iron corners, but when she lifts the latch, rainbow light spills across her face.
Her breath catches.
Inside rests a cloak.
Soft. Iridescent. Beautiful in a way that doesn’t shout. It shimmers as Perri lifts it free, pale gold, rose, blue, violet, and silver sliding across the fabric like trapped dawn.
The HUD flickers as I Identify it.
[Cloak of Radiance]
[Tier 1 – Rare]
A shimmering iridescent cloak that bends light around the wearer, confounding attackers and making them harder to strike.
Perri stares at it like someone just handed her a piece of sunrise.
“I…” Her voice goes tiny. “I’ve never owned anything this beautiful.”
Kit’s teasing fades into something softer.
Raka nods once, approving.
Perri draws the cloak against her chest, eyes shining, the rainbow light trembling across her cheeks.
“For me?” she whispers.
I reach over and brush my fingers lightly over the edge of the fabric.
“For you,” I say. “Our Soul Aegis.”