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Rain fell hard against the mossy forest floor. Levi’s boots sank into the mud as he stalked ahead, sword drawn, eyes scanning the tangled trees. They’d been tracking the remnants of a rogue spellcaster unit who’d defected from the Royal Vanguard months ago. One of them had left a trail—an odd one, soaked in residual magic. Dangerous.
He reached a clearing where the air felt wrong—too still. In the center, a stone monolith jutted out from the earth, glowing faintly with etched runes. Levi narrowed his eyes.
"Captain," a voice crackled faintly from his communicator crystal. "We've lost your signal—don't engage until backup—"
He stepped forward anyway.
A whisper echoed from the runes. Then a blinding light exploded outward.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
You heard the soft thud just as you were stepping back into your cottage with a bucket of water. A second thump followed, then a scratchy, pitiful sound.
You opened the door and froze.
There, slumped against the wooden threshold, was a black cat—soaked, thin, and bleeding from one paw. Its grey eyes were narrowed, watching you with a mix of wariness and exhaustion.
"Oh no," you whispered, setting the bucket aside and crouching down. "Where did you come from, little guy...?"
The cat tried to stand, but its legs gave out.
"Don’t move. I’ll help you, I promise. Just stay still."
You scooped him up carefully, ignoring the weak hiss he gave, and carried him inside.
The cottage was dim and modest. The fireplace crackled softly, the scent of herbs hanging faintly in the air. You set the cat down on a worn towel and rummaged through a small basket for clean cloth and salve.
"You’re so dirty," you murmured, kneeling beside him with a warm damp rag. "I can’t even see where your fur ends and the mud begins."
The cat sat rigidly, every muscle taut. His eyes flicked to the door, as if calculating escape.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” you said gently. “Just wipe—you won’t get drenched. Just this.”
He didn’t move as you dabbed the cloth along his spine, then under his chin.
The next morning, you found him dragging that same cloth across the floor with his teeth. He dropped it at your feet and stared.
You blinked. "...Do you want me to clean you again?"
He sat, expectant.
You huffed a laugh. "Okay, clean freak. You win."
From then on, he brought the cloth to you every morning.
He kept to the shadows of the cottage, watching from shelves or window ledges. Still wary, still silent. But he didn’t leave.
And you talked to him. Freely, often, about anything. He always had the same grumpy expression—like a cat with a permanent scowl—but that didn’t bother you. You’d grown used to it, even found it funny. You liked to fill the silence, make the space feel warmer for him, like he belonged there. Like any cat finding shelter in a strange new home.
"I wanted to be a cartographer," you said one evening, stroking his fur gently as he lay curled on your lap. "I kept all the old maps my father brought back from his travels in a box under the floorboards. I've marked every path out of this town. Every road, every coast—everywhere I thought freedom might be."
You paused, voice lowering. "You won’t tell anyone, will you?"
The cat flicked his tail.
"Didn’t think so," you murmured.
Over time, he began letting you hold him. You handled him carefully, mindful of his injured paw, always using soft rags to wipe him down since he refused to clean himself like a normal cat. He tolerated it. Sometimes he even brought the soap bar from the washbasin in his teeth and dropped it beside you—a request. You didn’t understand why he refused to clean himself like a normal cat, but you obliged every time.
The week the royal ball was announced, the manor turned upside down.
Your stepmother shrieked orders at the maids, flinging dresses from trunks, demanding tailors, silks, slippers, perfumes. Her daughters were in hysterics over which of them would catch the prince’s eye.
You stood quietly by the kitchen doorway, listening.
When you asked—timidly—if you could attend, your stepsisters cackled.
"You? In what, soot and rags?"
"You think the prince would even look at you? You wouldn't even be allowed to enter the ballroom."
Your stepmother didn’t laugh. She only said, "Don’t be absurd. You’ll be staying home."
That night, you sat by the hearth, the black cat curled on your lap. Your fingers idly stroked his back.
"I didn’t even want to marry him," you whispered. "I just wanted to see the palace. Just once. Just… to see something beyond this place."
You hesitated, then reached into a crack in the floorboards and pulled out a worn roll of parchment.
"Just between you and me," you said. "These are my plans — routes. It’s all marked. I was going to leave next spring. Now… maybe sooner."
You looked down at the cat. "If I go, you'll come with me right? You’re the only one who listens."
The cat closed his eyes, like a silent acceptance of the unspoken bond between you.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
You tried to hide him.
Your stepmother had a prized long-haired grey persian cat imported from the capital—expensive, pampered, fed on glass dishes. Animals that weren’t pure or expensive were seen as filthy, not worth keeping.
So you kept him in the cottage, away from sight. You snuck scraps to him, brushed his fur, bandaged his paw each day. You thought you were careful.
But the night of the ball, your stepmother stormed into the cottage, furious that neither of her daughters had received a dance from the prince.
She found the black cat curled by the hearth.
"You! What's that stray vermin doing here?!"
You jumped to your feet. "He’s not hurting anyone—"
The broom came down hard, swinging straight toward him.
You reacted on instinct.
You snatched the cat into your arms and ran to the door, flung it open, and pushed him out into the night.
"Run!" you gasped. "Don’t let her catch you. Go!"
You slammed the door shut and leaned your body against it, panting.
Inside, your stepmother advanced.
"You filthy, ungrateful brat—choosing animals over your own family!"
You didn’t fight back. You didn’t scream. You knew it would only make things worse.
You sank to the floor as the blows rained down.
Outside, Levi circled the cottage in a panic. He tried the windows—latched. The back door—barred. He climbed onto the roof, paws slipping, and found a cracked tile.
He squeezed through.
By the time he dropped down onto the rafters and looked below, you were already crumpled on the floor, motionless.
He darted down, calling out in frantic meows.
You stirred.
"You’re… still here?" you whispered. Your lips were cracked. There was blood at your temple. You tried to smile. "It’s okay. I’ll be fine."
He nudged your cheek with his nose. Your hand found his head, trembling, and you closed your eyes.
That was all Levi needed.
That very night, Levi didn’t waste a moment and set off toward the capital under the cover of darkness.
The capital was far, but he didn’t stop.
Mud clung to his fur, his limbs ached, but he ran. He skirted wild dogs, nearly got trampled by wagons, clawed his way under gates.
By early morning, he limped into the royal wizard’s tower, collapsing in front of the hearth.
Hange looked up from a table of smoking bottles. "What the hell—who let a cat in here?"
He meowed. Loud. Then again. Then lunged at their desk and knocking over papers.
"HEY—!" Hange’s eyes narrowed. "Wait. Why are you looking at me like that? Hold on, you look just like this one grumpy guy I know…"
He jumped to the shelf. Dragged a book down. Paws splayed, he flipped it open, pointed to letters.
L. E. V. I.
Hange gasped.
"NO. YOU—Are you Levi? You are! Where have you been?! Did you get turned into a cat? Was it a curse? Was it that sealed stone?! Of course it was the sealed stone—did you touch it? What did it feel like? Was there a noise? Do you remember how many hours you were unconscious? Did you eat anything weird while you were a cat?—"
He hissed.
"Okay, okay! I’ll fix it, just—gods above, I need my notes!"
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
He didn’t waste time.
As soon as Hange confirmed his identity and reversed the curse—still laughing and muttering, “Not exactly the grand return I pictured for our mighty Captain Levi.”—he left her with a flurry of instructions and bolted toward the palace’s inner courts.
Later that morning, Levi pushed into the war room, grim as ever—dried mud, scratches, and a borrowed guard's cloak clinging to him.
Erwin looked up in surprise.
“Levi?”
“I need a squad sent to the southern province. Arrest Lady Tremaine and her household under charges of unlawful confinement, domestic cruelty, and civil abuse.”
There was no time to sit and explain it all. Levi’s words were clipped and fast, but precise. Erwin caught the tone beneath it—rage buried beneath layers of control.
“She’s a nouveau riche,” Erwin said, rising. “Do we have a formal complaint?”
“You’ll get one. From me. I witnessed it myself.”
That was enough.
Within the hour, a full unit was dispatched under military warrant. Levi rode with them, his jaw tight, barely holding back the urge to outpace them all.
They arrived at the manor at dusk.
One of the stepsisters mistook the arrival of soldiers for something else entirely.
“They’re from the palace!” she squealed, adjusting her hair. “Do you think it’s the prince—?”
“Silence,” Levi said coldly, stepping past her.
She went pale the moment she met his eyes.
Whatever fantasy she'd conjured shattered instantly.
The stepsisters screamed when the soldiers flooded into the estate. The stepmother tried to bluster her way out of it—claimed her status, her connections, her right to discipline—but Levi shut her down with a single look.
He didn’t let her speak for long.
The manor was turned upside down. The staff gave testimonies. A few of them even cried. No one tried to defend the Lady.
By nightfall, the house was quiet.
But the girl he was looking for was gone.
Not in her room. Not the garden. Not the stables. One of the younger servants—nervous and shaking—told Levi she’d packed a bag and slipped out earlier, likely planning to flee after last night's cruelty.
She didn’t know help was coming.
He didn’t blame her.
He just needed to find her.
The manor was cold, stripped of its usual grandeur under the weight of authority. Servants whispered nervously, eyes downcast. The stepfamily’s protestations fell on deaf ears.
Levi stood firm as testimonies piled up—words from maids, cooks, and stable hands recounting cruelty, neglect, and fear. The stepmother’s facade cracked, revealing panic and desperation.
When the arrest warrant was read aloud, Lady Tremaine’s eyes widened. But she said nothing—her power stripped away in that moment.
Levi stayed until the last of the guards escorted the family away, their pride broken.
Then he left, determination knotting his jaw.
He had to find you.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
The morning after the ball, as light crept through the cracks in the cottage walls, painting soft stripes on the floorboards.
You woke with a dry throat and the familiar weight of the black cat missing from your lap.
Your eyes darted around the empty room.
“Kitty?” you whispered, your voice cracking.
But the silence was the only answer.
You touched the spot where he usually curled. It was cold.
You wrapped your hands around your knees, a hollow ache settling deep in your chest.
“I guess even you want better,” you murmured.
With a sigh, you packed the few things you could carry—maps, coins, your worn cloak—slipping quietly out the door.
The world outside was already stirring. The post-ball city buzzed with whispers and hurried footsteps.
You melted into the crowds, hoping to disappear.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
The wagon smelled faintly of dried apples and hay.
You sat at the back, hood pulled low, trying to steady your breath as the city faded behind you.
A merchant had offered you space with the other passengers in exchange for help unloading crates once they reached the eastern gates. You’d nodded quickly, grateful.
The road was rough, and the chatter of others blurred into the background. You let yourself doze—half-asleep, half-alert—rocked gently by the sway of the wheels.
Until everything stopped.
The wagon jolted, tossing you from a light doze.
You blinked up through your lowered hood, heart thumping as rough voices barked orders.
Soldiers swarmed around the wagon, boots crunching on the dirt road.
You froze, clutching your pack tighter.
Someone muttered about a “description,” scanning the passengers’ faces like prey.
A pair of boots came into view beside the wheel. Silence. Then the scrape of gloved fingers pulling your hood back.
You blinked into the sunlight.
A sharp gaze met yours from horseback, the brim of his cloak lifting in the wind.
“Are you...?” His voice was low, urgent.
You blinked, confusion clouding your eyes. “Can I help you? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he extended a hand toward you.
“Please come with me.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She’s right here.
The girl who slipped away from that cruel house before I could reach her—there was no time to waste.
Watching her now, hidden beneath that hood, my heart tightened.
No words could explain to her why I was doing all this—why I had risked so much for someone who didn’t even know me.
So I offered my hand instead, the only way to bridge the distance between us.
She hesitated, then took it.
This was only the beginning.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
The Royal Vanguard headquarters was a far cry from the grand palaces you’d imagined.
Stone walls, scattered papers, and the faint smell of ink and wax filled the room.
You stood there, heart pounding, trying to steady your breath.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you blurted. “I haven’t committed any crimes—if this is about the prince, I swear I didn’t even—”
Levi held up a hand.
“You’re not being arrested,” he said calmly. “This is about Lady Tremaine and her daughters.”
"My stepfamily?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Levi nodded. “They’ve been arrested. Exiled, by week’s end.”
Relief washed over you, mixed with disbelief.
“So… I’m free?”
He met your gaze. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
You swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the weight of those words.
“Then… I guess I’ll go on my way.”
He stepped forward, blocking your path with a firm look.
“You don’t have to go anywhere. I could use a correspondence clerk. The pay is good. You’d live here. Be safe.”
His voice was steady, firm, but gentle.
You looked at him, considering. It seemed better than wandering from town to town, hoping for a job or a place to stay.
“…Okay.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She’s hesitant — good.
Trust isn’t given, it’s earned.
But this is the chance she deserves. A fresh start.
I won’t let her slip away again.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
[Epilogue – One Year Later]
The headquarters was quieter these days.
You were sorting through a stack of reports when the door suddenly burst open.
Hange stumbled in, a half-empty bottle clutched loosely in one hand, a wide grin on their face.
“So,” they slurred playfully, “how’s your little pet project coming along? Still bathing your former cat?”
You blinked, stunned.
“My what?”
You turned instinctively to Levi, who froze at his desk.
From his desk, Levi leaned against the table, glaring daggers at Hange and mouthing, Don’t you dare.
It was the kind of look that had made cadets freeze in their boots.
But Hange only grinned wider, entirely unfazed.
You turned to them, eyes wide. “Wait—what are you talking about? What are you keeping from me?”
Levi’s jaw clenched. He shot Hange a sharp glare, silently willing them to shut up.
But it was too late.
Hange choked on a laugh, clearly enjoying themselves far too much. “Oh, just that our dear Captain Levi was cursed, turned into a cat, and ended up falling for his saviour. Quite the story, huh?”
“Wait… you were my cat?”
Your mouth fell open. “No wonder I could never find him, no matter how many times I searched—”
You blinked, the next horrifying thought hitting you like a brick.
“Wait, doesn’t that mean… I—I told you things ! I poured my heart out to you while scrubbing dirt out of your fur—are you serious?! That’s just ridiculous!”
Levi didn’t even flinch.
“I know,” he said flatly. “You even cleaned between my toes.”
You dropped the papers in your hands, face burning.
All that time searching, and he’d never even left your side.
“Oh my god .”
Hange howled with laughter.
Levi sighed, rubbing his temples. But for a brief second, you swore you saw the faintest smile tug at his lips.