The decision to embrace the night sky was met with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, even from those who typically preferred the comforts of a roof. Tighnari, a man whose patience for bad jokes was directly inversely proportional to his love for the forest, clapped his hands together with a decisive, authoritative sound.
"Right then!" he announced, his fennec ears swiveling towards the north. "Enough talk of burning forests. The weather conditions are optimal. Humidity is low, visibility is high. Why don't we have a camping night? The north plains offer a spectacular view of the stars, free from the canopy's obstruction."
It was a tactical retreat disguised as an impromptu adventure, and everyone knew it. But the allure of a Sumeru night, cool and fragrant, was undeniable.
They made their way out of the village proper, following a winding, luminescent path of glowing flora. The destination was a beautiful, grassy clearing just north of the main settlement, a natural amphitheater surrounded by the towering, protective giants of the rainforest. The air here was different—crisper, carrying the scent of distant mountains and the rich, loamy earth.
Tighnari immediately seized command of the logistics. He turned to Cyno, whose eyes still held the dangerous gleam of a man with a joke book in his head.
"You, General Mahamatra," Tighnari said, pointing a finger at a pile of canvas and poles that had been brought from the village stores. "You are going to help me with the tents. Your precision is required. And if I hear one pun about 'stakes' or 'tent-sion', you are sleeping outside with the Rishboland Tigers."
Cyno nodded solemnly, accepting the task with the gravity of a state execution. He knelt by the equipment, his movements methodical and precise, a silent guardian of shelter.
While the men wrestled with canvas, the women turned their attention to warmth. Lisa and Ningguang found themselves standing before a designated fire pit, a pile of dry wood nearby.
Ningguang, the woman who commanded the Jade Chamber, who moved mountains of mora with a flick of her wrist, knelt by the woodpile. She didn't use vision's abilities. She used her hands. She selected kindling with a discerning eye, arranging the logs in a perfect, efficient pyramid structure that maximized airflow.
"A well-built fire is like a well-built economy," she mused, her voice soft with a rare note of nostalgia. "It requires a solid foundation and room to breathe."
Lisa watched her, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "You've done this before, haven't you, dear? And not just for show."
Ningguang dusted off her hands, her elegant gloves slightly smudged with ash. "Before the Jade Chamber, before the Qixing… there were colder nights. Nights where a fire was not a luxury, but a necessity. One does not forget the skills that kept one warm."
Lisa nodded, a flicker of respect in her emerald eyes. With a casual flick of her wrist, a tiny spark of violet Electro jumped from her fingertip, igniting the kindling instantly. "And now, we have a little spark to help things along."
The fire crackled to life, casting a warm, dancing light that pushed back the gathering twilight.
Meanwhile, Ren found himself paired with Collei. They were tasked with the food, carrying baskets laden with marinated meats, skewered vegetables, and stacks of flatbread from the village stores.
Collei was cheerful, her smile bright and eager to please, but Ren, with his heightened perception, noticed the subtle dance she was performing. She would hand him a skewer, her fingers pulling back quickly, snatching her hand away before their skin could brush. She would laugh at a joke, but her body language remained slightly closed, her shoulders hunched, a protective shell she wore like a second skin.
He knew why. He knew the lore. Eleazar. The ancient, terrible affliction that plagued her, a disease born of forbidden knowledge and dead gods. It manifested as dark, hardened scales on the skin, a numbness that spread, a constant, looming shadow of paralysis and fatigue. It was a secret shame, a vulnerability she tried desperately to hide.
Ren didn't push. He didn't try to bridge the gap with forced familiarity. He simply matched her pace. When she handed him a basket, he took it carefully, respecting the invisible boundary she had drawn. When they sat by the fire to arrange the skewers on the grill, he chose a spot a comfortable distance away—close enough to talk easily, but far enough to signal that he wasn't going to invade her space.
He picked up a large, star-shaped fungus from the basket. "These mushrooms look really good," he said, his tone light and conversational. "Tighnari said they glow in the dark?"
Collei's eyes lit up, the topic of the forest a safe, happy ground for her. "Yes! Rukkhashava Mushrooms. They grow high up on the trees. They're really tasty when roasted, kind of earthy and sweet. But you have to be careful not to overcook them, or they get rubbery and tough."
Ren listened with serious, focused attention, nodding as she spoke. He asked her questions—not about her illness, not about her past, but about her expertise. He asked about the different types of wood in the forest, about the best way to spot a Dusk Bird, about her training as a Forest Ranger.
He treated her not as a patient, not as a victim to be pitied, but as an expert. A peer. A ranger who knew her domain.
Slowly, imperceptibly, the tension in Collei's shoulders began to ease. Her laughter became a little freer, less guarded. She realized he wasn't staring at her bandages. He wasn't looking for signs of weakness. He was just… listening.
"Here," she said, leaning in slightly, her hand hovering over the grill. "You should put a little more Zaytun Peach juice on the fish. It caramelizes and makes the skin crispy."
She demonstrated, her fear of contact momentarily forgotten in the joy of sharing her knowledge. Ren watched, learning, his smile encouraging.
By the time the fire was roaring and the rich, savory scent of roasting meat and spices filled the air, the distance between them had shrunk. It wasn't gone—the scars of Eleazar ran deep—but it was no longer a fortress wall. It was just a line in the sand, a boundary that Ren had shown he was perfectly willing to respect, and in doing so, had made it feel a little less necessary.
As the first stars began to pierce the vast, clear canopy of the sky, Ren looked at the girl beside him. He saw the bandages, yes. But he also saw the determination in her eyes, the kindness in her smile, the brave survivor who was fighting a battle against a disease older than herself.
He felt a deep, quiet admiration for her strength. He knew he couldn't cure her, not yet. He didn't have the power of a Dendro Archon. But he could be her friend. He could offer her a normal night, a shared meal, a safe space where she didn't have to be the sick girl, but just Collei, the Forest Ranger trainee.
And for tonight, under the peaceful, wise gaze of the forest, that was enough.