A name
It's such a simple thing—a word, a sound—but it carries weight.
When I named Riku, I thought I was giving him something small.
Something to call his own in a world that had taken everything from him.
I never expected it to change him…
.
I messed up.
After the training session yesterday, everything felt heavier—the exhaustion in my limbs, the burden of what had transpired. Brann's sneering face flashed in my memory, the clash of wood against wood, and the searing pain as the slave crest activated to ensure my defeat. The overseers had watched with cold satisfaction, while the slaves murmured amongst themselves, confusion and unease rippling through the group as they continued training.
Ren had demonstrated techniques with surprising precision, his movements deliberate and calculated, while Riku had struggled to keep up with his small frame. I had stepped in to guide him, but the weight of the crest's control lingered, making every action feel like a gamble.
After training, the overseers released us back to our quarters. As the quarters quieted down, I replayed the day in my mind. Riku had clung close to me, his small frame trembling as if still processing the day. The other slaves whispered in hushed tones, some curious about the events of the day, others too worn out to care.
For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the quiet before the overseers' shouts shattered the fragile peace. But then, something felt... off.
There was a weight against my side, heavier than before. I turned my head to find Riku, but the boy I had named yesterday was... different.
The first thing I noticed was his size. He was taller now, more human. His limbs longer and more proportionate, as though he had aged years overnight. His features were sharper, his rabbit-like ears more pronounced, and his hair seemed glossier, catching the faint light like spun silver. He looked older, perhaps closer to ten or eleven instead of the small, fragile child I had comforted the night before. Yet his physiology was the only thing that had changed—his face still held traces of the timid boy I had come to know, and his nervous energy was unmistakable.
My breath hitched as I carefully reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. His ears twitched slightly at the touch, and his eyes fluttered open. When they met mine, I was struck by the depth in them. They were still wide and innocent.
"Xuê?" he asked, his voice soft but steadier than before. It was as though the boy had found an anchor within himself overnight.
"Riku?" I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "What... what happened to you?"
Before he could answer, a familiar voice cut through the silence. "Remember how you gave him a name yesterday?"
I looked up to see Ren leaning against the doorframe, his sharp eyes fixed on Riku.
"Yeah, what's the issue with giving him a name?" I murmured, my voice low but defensive, unsure of what Ren was implying.
His tail flicked behind him, betraying his unease despite his usual nonchalance. "Do you even realize what you've done?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, my confusion mounting.
Ren stepped closer, crouching down to get a better look at Riku. The boy shifted under his gaze, his ears twitching nervously. Ren sighed and began to explain, his voice carrying an air of authority. "In this world, names have a different kind of power. They're not just words—they're tied to the soul. When you named him, you didn't just give him an identity. You anchored something deeper in him, something dormant."
My brow furrowed. "Dormant?" I echoed, glancing down at Riku.
"By giving him a name," Ren continued, "you've awakened something tied to his lineage. Demihumans evolve when their souls are strengthened, and a name etches itself into their being. That's why he looks different now. You didn't just give him a name, Xuê. You gave him a future."
The words hung heavily in the air. I glanced at Riku, who looked just as bewildered as I felt. "But... I didn't mean to do anything like that. I just wanted to give him something that was his."
Ren's gaze softened slightly, though his voice remained firm. "Intent doesn't matter. The act of naming carries its own weight. And now, he's no longer the same race he was yesterday."
The air seemed to grow heavier as Ren's words sank in. "What is he, then?" I asked cautiously.
Ren hesitated, his ears twitching as though he were debating how much to say. "I can't say for sure what he's become, but it's clear he's evolved into something closer to the old bloodlines—those with strength and power that most of us can only dream about. You've changed him, Xuê. For better or worse, he's different now."
Riku shifted uncomfortably, his hands gripping the edge of my tunic. "I didn't want to change," he said quietly, his voice trembling. "I just wanted to be strong...strong enough to stay with you."
My heart clenched at his words. I rested a hand on his head, smoothing down his hair in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. "You are strong," I told him firmly. "And no matter what, you'll stay with me. I promise."
Ren's gaze lingered on us for a moment before he spoke again, his tone more cautious. "You need to keep this quiet," he warned. "If the overseers or the Master find out what he's become, they'll take him away. They'll see him as a tool, a weapon to exploit."
A cold knot formed in my stomach at the thought. I looked down at Riku, his wide eyes filled with trust and fear. "They won't," I said, my voice hardening. "I won't let them."
Ren nodded, though his expression remained guarded. "Good. Just be careful. Naming him was one thing. Protecting him is another."
I crouched down in front of Riku, brushing a strand of his silver hair back into place. "We need to make you less noticeable," I said softly, trying to mask the urgency in my voice. "Your hair... it's too bright. It'll draw attention. Let's tone it down."
Reaching toward the small firepit near the back of the quarters, I grabbed a handful of soot and smeared it through his hair. The bright sheen dimmed to a dull gray, though it didn't hide his transformation entirely.
Ren watched with a faint smirk, his arms crossed. "Not bad," he commented. "But that won't stop a trained overseer from noticing."
I shot him a glare before turning back to Riku. From the pile of rags, I pulled an oversized cloak and draped it over his shoulders, fastening the frayed ties at his neck. "Keep this hood up," I instructed firmly. "Don't let them see your face unless you have to."
Riku looked down at the cloak, his hands clutching the fabric nervously. "What if they ask me to take it off?"
"They won't," Ren interjected, his tone laced with confidence. "Not if you stick with us. They'll be too busy barking orders to question why a rabbit-eared kid is hiding under a hood."
Riku nodded hesitantly, his grip tightening on the cloak. "Okay," he whispered.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, offering what comfort I could. "You'll be fine," I said, my voice steady. "Just stay close to me and Ren. We won't let anything happen to you."
Ren nodded in agreement, his tail flicking slightly. "Let's just hope the overseers don't have sharp eyes today. And whatever happens, kid, don't draw attention to yourself."
The day dragged on, the echoes of the morning's revelation lingering in my mind. By the time the overseers gathered us for work, Riku had adjusted his posture to appear as small as possible, a faint flush coloring his cheeks as he stuck close to me. Ren's warning echoed in my ears, a constant reminder of what was at stake.
The Mistress's arrival drew an immediate hush over the work area, every movement halting as her ethereal presence filled the space. I glanced up, watching her descend the path with unerring grace.
The demi maid at her side whispered something, her voice too low to catch. Whatever she said drew a faint, almost imperceptible smile from the Mistress, who nodded with an air of quiet understanding. Her steps remained unhurried yet deliberate, as though every move was part of a calculated design.
My heart sank when I realized she wasn't here for me. Her gaze, though unseeing, seemed to settle on Riku. A chill ran down my spine as her soft, melodic voice carried across the work area. "Bring him to me." I leaned down quickly, whispering to Riku and Ren, "Grab onto my clothes, now." They hesitated for only a moment before obeying, their hands clutching the fabric of my tunic. Taking a deep breath, I focused, erasing not just my presence and sound, but theirs as well, as though we had vanished from sight. My pulse thundered in my ears as I prayed this would work.
The overseers snapped to attention, their movements sharp and practiced. Confusion and tension rippled through the slaves as uneasy glances were exchanged. One overseer barked angrily, his glare sweeping over the group. "Where is the rabbit boy?" he demanded, his voice sharp enough to make everyone flinch. "And the meerkat and the fox? Where are they?"
The slaves froze, their silence a mix of fear and reluctance to draw attention to themselves. Another overseer stepped forward, his whip cracking against the ground, the sound a clear threat. "You lot think you can hide them? Speak up, or you'll all pay for their insolence."
A murmur started among the slaves, but no one dared step forward. The overseer's face darkened, and without hesitation, the whip lashed through the air, striking one of the nearby workers. A stifled cry escaped, but the others remained silent, their eyes fixed downward.
Why was she here? And what did she want with Riku?