The carriage rattled over the uneven dirt road, dust trailing behind like a stubborn fog. Fej leaned forward, elbows on his knees, scanning the horizon. They were already more than halfway to the Capital, though the miles blurred in his mind. He remembered the morning in the carriage, when he had blurted, "Wait, what?" and been silenced by Aomi's piercing glare. That look had spoken louder than any words: warning, expectation, control.
He let out a nervous chuckle. "So… this is what a noble trip feels like?"
Aomi's lips curved faintly, almost imperceptibly. She said nothing. The quiet pressed against him like a tangible weight.
Then came a scream.
High-pitched, metallic, tearing through the lazy afternoon like a fork dragged across a plate.
The guard, armored but sluggish, had no chance. The side of the carriage exploded inward, and the creature tore him down before he could draw a weapon. The coachman vanished into the trees, leaving only Fej and Aomi.
The beast loomed—a cockatrice, black feathers glinting with an unnatural sheen, wings lashing through the wreckage. Its talons sliced the air, its beak snapping with lethal precision.
Aomi's rapier was already drawn. A bead of sweat traced the curve of her temple as she squared herself. Calm, deliberate, lethal.
The first attack came in a flurry of feathers. Fej froze.
Aomi shoved him aside, deflecting each strike. The creature struck with its beak, then feathers again. Aomi pivoted, kicked, pushed.
Then she turned, eyes briefly meeting his. A pause. Fej froze completely. Wide eyes. Chest tight. He made no move, no sound, no plan. Aomi's gaze lingered for a heartbeat, then returned to the fight. No words. No sigh. Just the motion of her steel flashing through the sunlit meadow.
The cockatrice lunged again. Talons and beak, feathers and sparks of magic clashing against the rapier. Aomi was pushed back, colliding into Fej. "MOVE!" she barked, and the two stumbled over debris.
The talons aimed for her neck. Her eyes widened. Teeth gritted. Tsint! The rapier met the strike. In a swift, fluid motion, she drove the blade through its right eye, then the neck, then the chest. The beast went still.
Aomi wiped her blade clean, sheathed it with precise, practiced motions. Then she turned toward Fej again. No words. Nothing. Only eyes.
Fej swallowed, heart hammering. The truth was obvious without being spoken.
Afternoon waned as they walked, bruised and bloodied. Silence pressed against them.
"Camp. Here."
Aomi's voice broke the quiet, robotic in tone. Fej dropped his pack and set about a small fire pit. Sparks flickered and died twice. On the third attempt, a tiny flame jumped. He leaned forward, hopeful, just as it caught—
Snap.
The fire roared to life. Aomi had flicked her finger. The twigs ignited, flames leaping upward. Fej's jaw fell open, staring at the sudden blaze. His hands shook. His spark—his fleeting moment—had been swallowed by the fire she conjured in a single motion. No words, no glance, no expression beyond the faint, fleeting lift of an eyebrow.
He sank to the grass, staring quietly at the flames. Aomi knelt beside him, brushing at the grass, blue hair catching the last light. She didn't speak. She didn't look at him. The fire crackled, illuminating the distance between them in gold and shadow.
He edged closer, laying down beside her. Not touching, not pressing, just close enough that the fire's warmth brushed him. He could hear her breathing—steady, even—and for the first time in hours, silence didn't feel suffocating.
Night fell. Stars stretched endlessly above the meadow, cold and breathtaking. The fire crackled softly. Bruised, bloodied, and tired, they remained side by side, neither speaking.
Finally, Fej whispered, "I'm sorry."
The flames popped and danced.
"It's just—"
"Don't bother giving me a reason."
"But—"
"What?"
"Sorry."
Aomi let out a soft sigh.
"Fej."
He turned slowly.
"Don't dwell in the past. For what's there, stays there. Get right with it and move on," she said, voice calm, almost weary. "That's what my mother used to tell me. Even now… she's still the same."
Fej blinked. Her usual composure was gone for just a moment, replaced by a fleeting human gesture: poking at the flames, tracing shapes in the firelight, sharing a fragment of herself without words.
"Aomi."
"Fej."
Under the vast night sky, two voices finally met—not in conflict, not in competition, but in quiet understanding.