I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Maze settled into the worn armchair, her eyes darting between Sakura and Matilda. The air was thick with tension, broken only by the gentle pulsing of Zafron's cocoon in the corner of the room.

"Tell me about Drakoria," Maze said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. "What really happened there?"

Matilda exchanged a glance with Sakura before taking a deep breath. "It didn't start in Drakoria," she began, her fingers twisting in her lap. "It started in Astoria. My husband, Blackthorn..." She paused, pain flickering across her features. "He sent his henchman, Gustavo, to kill Zafron."

Maze leaned forward, her brow furrowing. "Why would he do that?"

"Power. Control. Jealousy. The usual reasons," Matilda replied bitterly. "Gustavo wounded him badly – left him for dead, actually. But we managed to get him to Drakoria in time. The healers there..." She shook her head in wonder. "They saved his life."

Behind them, the cocoon pulsed gently, Zafron's form shifting ever so slightly within. Sakura's ears twitched at the movement, but she remained silent, her attention divided between the conversation and monitoring their surroundings.

"But Gustavo found you there," Maze prompted, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Matilda nodded, her expression darkening. "He did. Tracked us down and attacked without warning. Zafron..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "He defended himself. That's all."

"And Malachi?" Maze asked, her voice sharp. "What happened to him?"

"Malachi was on our side," Matilda said firmly, meeting Maze's gaze. "I know everyone thinks Zafron killed him, but that's not true. Malachi was helping us."

In the cocoon, Zafron's head turned slightly, as if responding to the mention of Malachi's name. Sakura noticed, her tail swishing with increased agitation.

"What about the two people found dead in the streets?" Maze pressed, her voice carefully neutral. "Steele seems convinced Zafron was responsible."

Matilda's hands clenched in her lap, but her voice remained steady. "I remember that day clearly. Zafron came back wounded – said he'd run into some robbers. If there was a fight, it was self-defense."

'Please believe me,' Matilda thought desperately, watching Maze's face for any sign of acceptance or doubt. 'We need allies, not more enemies.'

Maze sat back, her own thoughts churning. The story made sense – too much sense, perhaps. But something about Matilda's earnestness, the way she spoke about Zafron...

Sakura moved quietly to the window, peering out through a gap in the curtains. The street remained empty, but her shoulders were tense with vigilance.

"Everything she's telling you is true," Sakura said suddenly, turning back to face Maze. "I wasn't there for most of it, but I've seen enough to know Zafron isn't what Steele claims he is."

The cocoon pulsed again, stronger this time. Zafron's form shifted, his head turning as if following their voices. The movement drew all their eyes, a moment of shared wonder breaking through the tension.

"His transformation during the fight," Maze murmured, rising to approach the cocoon. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Neither have we," Matilda admitted, joining her. "But whatever's happening, it seems... natural. Like it's meant to be."

Maze reached out, her fingers hovering just above the cocoon's surface. The energy emanating from it made her skin tingle. "Remarkable," she breathed.

For a moment, the three women stood in silence, watching the gentle undulations of the cocoon. The tension in the room had shifted, becoming something more like shared amazement.

Finally, Maze stepped back, her expression thoughtful. "I need time to process all this," she said carefully. "What you're saying about Zafron – it makes sense, but..."

"But you need to be sure," Matilda finished for her, understanding in her eyes. "I get that."

Maze nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you for telling me everything. For trusting me enough to let me in."

To everyone's surprise, the next hour passed in almost comfortable conversation. Maze shared stories from her travels, carefully avoiding mention of Steele. Matilda spoke of her life before everything changed, and even Sakura contributed a few tales, though she never fully relaxed her guard.

As the sun began to set, Maze rose to leave. "I should go," she said, casting one last glance at Zafron's cocoon. "Before anyone notices I'm missing."

At the door, she paused. "Whatever Steele thinks, whatever he's planning... I'll try to find out more."

After she left, Matilda and Sakura stood in silence, watching her figure disappear down the street.

"She seems... nice," Matilda said finally, turning to Sakura. "Different from what I expected."

Sakura's tail swished sharply. "Nice doesn't mean trustworthy," she said, her voice hard. "She knows where we are now. She could come back with Steele at any moment."

Matilda's stomach twisted at the thought. "You think she would?"

"I think we can't afford to trust anyone right now," Sakura replied, moving to check the locks on the door. "Not with Zafron so vulnerable."

In his cocoon, Zafron shifted again, more deliberately this time. The pulsing had taken on a different rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.

"We'll take turns watching tonight," Sakura decided, her eyes fixed on the street outside. "Just in case."

Matilda nodded, settling into a chair near the cocoon. As darkness fell, she couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change. The question was: for better or worse?

Out in the gathering darkness, Maze walked slowly back toward the Rusty Nail, her mind churning with everything she'd learned. Steele's version of events seemed less certain now, filled with holes she couldn't ignore.

******

The door to their shared quarters creaked as Maze pushed it open, her heart skipping when she found Steele waiting in the dimly lit room. He sat in his favorite chair, a glass of amber liquid clutched in his bandaged hand.

"Where were you?" His voice was deceptively casual, but Maze caught the edge beneath it.

She shrugged off her coat, keeping her movements deliberately slow and steady. "Looking for information," she replied, matching his tone. "You know how it is – everyone's talking about what happened at the bar."

Steele's eyes tracked her as she moved across the room. The bruises on his face had darkened to purple, a testament to his fight with Zafron. "Find anything interesting?"

"Nothing concrete," Maze lied smoothly, busying herself with pouring a drink. Her hands wanted to shake, but she wouldn't let them. "Lots of rumors, but you know how people are. They barely say the truth."

"Hmm." Steele took a long sip from his glass. "No leads on where he might have gone?"

Maze turned to face him, leaning against the counter. "If anyone knows, they're not talking." She gestured at his injuries. "How are the wounds?"

"They'll heal," he growled, touching his split lip. "Not that it matters. I won't rest until I find him. Until I make him pay for what he did."

The bitterness in his voice made Maze's skin crawl. "Steele," she said carefully, "what if... what if we're wrong about him?"

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Wrong?"

"I mean," she continued, keeping her voice level, "what if there's more to the story? What if Zafron isn't the monster everyone thinks he is?"

The glass in Steele's hand cracked under his grip. "You weren't there," he snarled. "You didn't see what he did in Drakoria. The bodies he left behind."

"No, I wasn't," Maze agreed, watching him carefully. "But neither were you. We only have secondhand accounts, rumors—"

"I don't care!" Steele surged to his feet, liquid sloshing from his glass. "I don't care about his reasons or his excuses. He needs to pay for what he did to me. For what he did to all of us."

Maze held her ground, though every instinct screamed at her to back away. "This isn't about justice anymore, is it?" she asked quietly. "This is about revenge."

"Maybe it is," Steele spat. "What's wrong with that? He deserves whatever he gets."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Maze sighed. "I'm going to bed," she said, setting down her untouched drink. "Try to get some rest, Steele. Those wounds need time to heal."

He didn't respond, just sank back into his chair, staring into his glass as if it held all the answers he sought.

In her room, Maze sat on the edge of her bed, her mind racing. Matilda's words echoed in her head, painting a very different picture of Zafron than the one Steele clung to. But Steele... she could see it in his eyes. He was beyond reason, beyond truth. His hatred had consumed him, twisted him into something she barely recognized.

'I need to find a way to stop him,' she thought, running a hand through her hair. 'But how? He's too stubborn, too set in his beliefs.' She'd seen that look before, in other men consumed by vengeance. It never ended well.

Through the wall, she could hear Steele moving around, muttering to himself.

'One way or another,' she decided, lying back on her bed, 'this has to end. Before Steele destroys himself – and takes everyone else down with him.'

But as she stared at the ceiling, listening to Steele's restless movements, she knew it wouldn't be that simple.