Travel strips people down.
Not physically, at first. Mentally.
The academy had been predictable. Bells, schedules, expectations. Even danger there had rules. Out here, on the road stretching endlessly ahead of us, there were no rules I could see. Just dirt, wind, and the quiet understanding that if something went wrong, no one would hear us scream.
The carriage moved steadily, the wheels creaking like they were complaining about the decision to exist.
I watched the scenery roll by. Fields turned into sparse woodland. Woodland into uneven hills. Civilization thinned, then loosened its grip entirely. No farms. No roads maintained by tax money. Just paths worn down by people who didn't have better options.
"So," I said eventually, breaking the silence. "Where exactly are we going?"
Virex, who had been grooming his tail with exaggerated care, didn't look up. "Forward."
I waited.
"That's it?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied. "That's the safest answer."
I sighed. "You're doing this on purpose."
"Absolutely."
Elira sat across from me, arms folded, eyes scanning the window. She hadn't relaxed since we left. Not once. Even now, her posture was ready, like the world might jump us at any second.
"We're heading toward an imperial relay city," she said. "From there, routes branch outward. Safer paths. More eyes."
"Eyes that belong to the empire," I muttered.
She didn't deny it.
The carriage jolted suddenly, hitting uneven ground. Virex braced himself against the seat with one paw, unfazed.
"You'll want to remember this," he said. "The empire doesn't move like a sword. It moves like a net. Slowly. Quietly. Everything you step on here has already been measured."
"That's comforting," I said flatly.
"It's meant to be," he replied.
We stopped at dusk.
Not at an inn. Not at a town.
Just a clearing.
The driver said nothing when he climbed down, began preparing the horses, then moved a short distance away. He didn't look at us again.
"That's… ominous," I said.
Elira dismounted next, stretching slightly. "This is normal."
"That's worse."
Virex hopped down last, landing softly. "Statistically, roadside inns are more dangerous than forests at night."
I blinked. "That makes zero sense."
"Bandits," he said. "Poison. Eavesdroppers. Also bad soup."
I decided not to argue with that logic.
We set up a small camp. No fire, just a low heat-stone Elira carried that gave off a faint warmth without light. Efficient. Practical. Empire-made.
As night settled in, the world grew… heavy.
The wind shifted oddly, not constant but breathing. The trees leaned closer than they should have. Insects went quiet in waves, like something unseen was passing through.
I didn't like it.
I sat on a fallen log, pulling my cloak tighter. Virex perched beside me, tail wrapped neatly around his feet.
"You're thinking too loudly," he said.
"I didn't say anything."
"You don't have to," he replied. "Your mind is pacing."
I glanced at him. "You can read thoughts now?"
"Only the obvious ones. The ones that echo."
That was not reassuring.
"I keep wondering when this turns into a mistake," I admitted quietly. "When agreeing to this becomes the thing I regret the most."
Virex hummed. "It already has. You're just not at the part where it's obvious yet."
I snorted. "You're terrible at encouragement."
"I am excellent at honesty."
Elira approached, stopping a few steps away. "You should rest."
"I don't feel tired," I said.
"That's when it's most important."
I looked up at her. The fireless glow cast soft shadows across her face. For the first time, she looked… younger. Not the composed academy upperclassman. Just someone carrying weight she didn't ask for.
"Why me?" I asked again. Not sharply. Just tired.
She hesitated.
That was new.
"Because," she said slowly, "everyone else who was chosen before you either broke, disappeared, or tried to take control."
"And you think I won't?" I asked.
"I think," she replied, "that you're afraid of control. That makes you safer."
I didn't know how to respond to that.
A sound cut through the quiet.
Low. Distant. Wrong.
Virex's ears twitched.
Elira's hand went to her side instantly.
"What is that?" I asked.
Virex slid off the log, posture shifting. No sarcasm now. No humor.
"Movement," he said. "Large. Not human."
The forest around us seemed to lean inward.
I stood. My heart rate spiked, but my mind felt oddly clear. Like this moment had been waiting for me.
"Is it dangerous?" I asked.
Virex looked at me.
"That depends," he said, "on whether it notices us."
The sound came again. Closer.
Branches cracked. Not rushed. Not hunting.
Just… walking.
Elira positioned herself slightly in front of me without comment. Protective. Instinctive.
"I don't like this," I muttered.
"No one ever does," Virex replied.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, the sound stopped.
Silence flooded back in, thick and absolute.
We waited. Long seconds passed.
Nothing.
Finally, Virex relaxed.
"False alarm," he said. "Probably a territorial remnant. Old magic. Mindless."
Probably.
I exhaled, only then realizing I'd been holding my breath.
"That," I said, "is exactly the kind of thing I didn't want to deal with."
Virex hopped back onto the log. "Welcome to outside the academy."
Elira glanced at me. "Still having doubts?"
"Yes," I said immediately. "Many."
She nodded. "Good."
I frowned. "Good?"
"People without doubts die faster," she said simply.
Night deepened.
As I lay back, staring at a sky untouched by city light, one thought settled in my chest, heavy and undeniable.
This journey wasn't about finding answers.
It was about seeing how far I could go before the world forced my hand.
And judging by the road ahead…
It wouldn't wait long.