Is that…smoke?

  I open my eyes to see the forest abze, the trees burnt to skeletons, stripped of bark and breath. The tent has been burned to cinders, and I frantically sweep my eyes over the lifeless scene. Small creatures I don’t recognise are running, trying to avoid the fmes, but with the air so thick, they fall.

  I clutch my chest and try to sp Casp—where is he?! The ground next to me is bare, neither his sword nor his horse is near. Men shout in the background, and some weave through the trees holding axes, charging forward into the fire. I frantically get up, the ground crunching beneath my feet, brittle and bck as I cmber up.

  Another sweep of men screaming comes from behind me, only a small distance away. My breath catches, and I run. I race through the trees, avoiding falling branches and sudden waves of fire. The heat surrounds me, the fmes growing too strong to outrun as they begin to form dense walls. A man dressed in chainmail and a silver-horned helmet comes out of the bze and charges at me. There’s a thick wall of fmes behind me, but with no other choice, I run through it.

  Intense heat and radiant pain surround me.

  “I can’t see!” I cry out to myself as I run through the fmes.

  The ground suddenly gives way, and I slide down a rge slope on the side of the crisp forest floor. The dry branches cw at my skin as I descend, leaving rge cuts on my arms. I nd on the ashy ground and look up to see the entire forest, a bzing inferno. My surroundings are the same, and my fear becomes all-consuming.

  “Ouch.” I inspect my feet, and see they’re bck and blistered. Tears well my eyes, my heart stabbed into inoperability with erratic breaths. I close my eyes and cover my face, wishing. Pray. To a God. Any God.

  “He betrayed us. He betrayed us. He betrayed us.” I cry into my hands. Pavlore betrayed us!

  We should’ve known. I should’ve known. Caspian is an outw, exiled to his county, who would want to work with—

  Step. Step. Step.

  My breath freezes. And despite the heat, my blood turns to ice. I look up to see a dress of pure white starlight pass by a tree ahead. Her path is bathed in blue, the trees alive and prosperous. The underbrush is flittering with beautiful purple flora and lively fauna. A parade of the dancing white lights I saw in the sacred forest, follow her.

  I gnce at my burning surroundings and step towards her path of nature and light, drawn on by something inexplicable. As I join her trail, the dead grass beneath my feet blooms to life, sprouting wildbuds of violet and tufts of clover. A few meters ahead of me, there she is, walking. She’s veiled in strands of silver and snow-white light, the veil twinkling with each step. Her hair flows like a waterfall of gold, her dress shifting like it was made from blue frostlight. She hums a sweet tune as she walks further into the burnt forest, reviving it with each step. God?

  Her sleeves hang long, her bare arms marked with delicate blue swirls of ivy and scripture. She walks to a small stream and kneels in it. Her angelic hums seem to command the water, making it coat the hem of her gown. As more of the fabric becomes drenched, new sigils bloom across the cloth.

  The stream gains some strength, and a small wave brushes past my feet. My feet…Like vines bathed in blue, markings stretch along my feet and up my dress. The floating lights dance around me, gravitating to rest on my skin. They hover around for a moment longer before some leave and form a trail to the kneeling woman.

  Moved beyond a will of my own, I follow. The rising water sloshes with every step I take closer. Time slows as I pass her, my eyes taking in her whole presence as I walk in front of her.

  As if my body knows what to do, it kneels opposite her without my permission. My eyes I’ve kept down, raise, and I meet her eyes—My own looking back at me. Is that me?

  As if I were staring in an ethereal reflection, she’s the spitting image of me, besides being bathed in the light of the stars.

  She doesn’t stop her song, coated in an old, ancient tone. She lifts one hand and with a soft, delicate touch, presses the space just above my heart.

  My breath catches. The forest holds its breath with me.

  Then—

  Light.

  A fre of white light blooms from her fingers, through my chest like it was made by the heart of the cosmos.

  My heart feels like it stops, and I wake.

  My eyes snap open.

  The dream is gone, but the light…It’s still there, faint and fading beneath my ribs like a secret that’s not quite ready to leave. I calm my erratic breaths and look to the weird light moving in the corner of my eye.

  The circle is glowing. A soft, pulsing blue, like the moon is telling it to breathe. I blink, unsure if I’m fully awake or still dreaming. Why is it glowing? Is something near b—

  A hand cmps over my mouth.

  My body jolts, panic punching into me all over again. Then, I feel his warmth behind me. His other arm is wrapped firmly around my waist, his hand gripping me. His breath brushes past my ear, warm and slow.

  “Shh. Shh. It’s just me.” He murmurs lowly in my ear, almost a whisper. WHAT IS HE DOING?! My cheeks burn, and my ears turn red under the heat of his breath. I start squirming again, even more frantic.

  “Don’t move.” He grabs me closer, pressing me into him. He throws his leg over mine, anchoring me completely still. My breaths begin to stutter under his weight, my pulse just as erratic.

  I feel his face brush the back of my neck as he faces the tent opening. I follow his gaze to see a creature veiled in white, its eyes the purest shade of blue. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! I grip onto Caspian’s arm with all my might as my body starts to shake uncontrolbly at the sight.

  It doesn’t blink, nor does it move. It just watches, its eyes staring into my soul. Caspian doesn’t react, his eyes just continuously scanning the opening, as if trying to assess where my panic is coming from. Does he not see it?!

  Caspian moves his eyes back to me, his nose brushing my cheek as he does so. He looks into my eyes full of fear, and watches as I look between him and the creature. He gives me a bewildered look before looking back at the entrance.

  “Don’t look at it, or it’ll try to come in.” I thought we could only leave or enter?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’LL TRY TO COME IN?! My breaths keep to the same unsteady pace, but I close my eyes.

  The grass soon rustles, and the glow slowly fades.

  Caspian’s grip loosens around me as he tries to fall them back to his sides.

  But I don’t let go.

  My hands stay wrapped around his forearm like a vice, my body still shaking against him. Don’t let go…I don’t care how it looks. I don’t care what he thinks, and I especially don’t care if I hate him tomorrow.

  I just need him to stay.

  His body stiffens for a second. Then, slowly, his arm circles back around me again. Not tightly, and not protectively.

  Just…there.

  And what feels like the first time in hours, I breathe without shaking.

  We stay like that with no words exchanged—just breaths and silence.

  And, eventually, I sleep.

  ───???????????───

  ? ?????????????'?? ?????????? ???? ?????????

  ───???????????───

  The sun’s glow filters through the sheer fabric of the tent, casting everything in a soft, golden light. I blink slowly, adjusting my eyes to the light, and look down.

  She’s still here.

  Genevieve lies curled against my chest, her face pressed into my neck, her breath warming it. Her hand is balled against the fabric of my cloak, like she’s afraid I’d let her go. Her breathing is even now, finally. Last night, it… Where do I even start with st night?

  It was her.

  Her glow?

  It happened just before the circle lit. A soft, pale light came from…her. It’s not the type of light that ferra gives, not like what I’ve seen, not like mine. It wasn’t reacting to anything…it was just…coming from within her. Then the circle fred, and the grass rustled. But nothing crossed the line.

  I looked to the opening, into the dark, and there was nothing there. The only hint that something was there was Genevieve’s breath hitching and her eyes becoming wide in panic, staring at something I couldn’t see.

  She summoned whatever it was.

  Or…something answered her.

  I am certain she doesn’t have ferra, I can’t detect any. She holds no marks of using it, and her blood doesn’t respond to it. Yet, something came.

  For her.

  I’m not sure of anything about her now. She isn’t what she’s supposed to be—a camity.

  I gnce down at her.

  She’s useless with a bde, slow with her footing, and is scared of anything that snarls louder than a dog. She flinches when spoken to too harshly, and thinks that gres alone will fight for her.

  She doesn’t belong here, and that much is obvious.

  But now I’m not sure she belongs anywhere else, either.

  She isn’t just foreign to Arken, but to the world itself. And I wouldn’t be anything less than a fool to pretend she isn’t something beyond me. Beyond this war, and maybe even beyond this realm.

  I watch her slowly rise and descend in my arms.

  But seeing her like this…she doesn’t feel like a threat, but something else entirely.

  And I don’t know what that means yet.

  Some time passes, and the birds begin to chatter in the trees. The chill in the air lessens as the morning mist settles. I keep still, careful not to shift too much beneath her. Her hand hasn’t loosened its grip on my cloak by even the slightest amount. The sun beams in more aggressively through the tent sheet, and she twitches.

  Her shes flutter against my neck as she stirs awake. She lets out a deep breath, with a soft, muffled groan like she doesn’t want to wake up just yet. She lifts against me and furrows her brows, confused as she stretches out. I throw a mused look at her confused face, gncing between her and her clutched hand.

  She blinks at me, a bewildered frown on her face. Probably still trying to piece together the situation. She looks down, and her eyes widen. She lets go of my cloak as if it were on fire.

  She immediately starts scooching away, moving toward the edge of the bedroll with a flushed face. Strands of her hair fall loosely as she moves, and the sun catches her face, painting it in a warm gold. Her eyes become enchanting with the hit of the light. I tilt my head to her. She isn’t the person I expected her to be.

  I don’t say anything.

  She doesn’t look at me, turning her flushed face away to the floor. I watch her jaw suddenly tighten, and she lifts her hair to feel her neck, and I can read her thoughts from her scrunched expression. She’s sweaty.

  “There’s a stream close by,” I say.

  She pauses. Then looks at me, startled—almost embarrassed.

  “You can wash up there,” I add. “We’ll pack after. We have time.”

  She nods, sleep still caught in her voice. She avoids my eyes and mutters a quick thank you before reaching for her bundle of clothes. Her cheeks flush pink, and I catch myself watching her for a moment longer than I should. Does she think…she moved to me first?

  The heavy breathing, the panicked gasps and the tiny whimpers. I didn’t hesitate to reach for her first. Let her believe it. It’ll be easier than expining why I didn’t let go.

  We step out of the tent, and she wraps herself in the cloak I gave her. Tugging it closer as the first cold breeze hits from outside. She falls into step behind me, and we walk to another clearing in the forest with a small running stream passing through it.

  The woods carry a fine mist on the floor in the hush of the early winter morning. It curls around our feet as we both stop in front of the water. Out of habit, my eyes sweep the tree line, and once assuring myself that it’s clear, I step back. I catch her eyes for a moment, and walk to the nearest isawaemar pnt. I look at the delicate purple blooms hanging from the thin green stems, the sweet, spicy scent of the pnt filling the air. I pluck a few stems off the pnt and hold them out to Genevieve.

  “Use this.” She looks up at me, her eyes soft, and without a word, she nods and takes it from my hand.

  I step behind the nearest tree, broad enough to hide my frame. I palm rests on the hilt of my sword, my back resting against the bark. She moves past me, hesitant at first, but then takes a turn around the tree. The faint sound of fabric slipping drifts into my ear, and she pces her clothes on the branch near me, her bare arm showing as she throws them over. I turn my eyes straight and close them, steadying my thoughts. I hear her walk and kneel near the water, the soft spshes of her hands cupping the water, cutting through the air. I listen to her take a sharp inhale as the cold water bites her skin, then the stiff exhale as she forces herself to endure it.

  The shift of her weight, the quiet rustling of her spreading the flower over her skin, pulls at the corner of my mind. My jaw tightens, and I force my grip on the hilt to rex. I am a soldier. I am under oath to respe—

  She rises.

  I hear her approach, the grass slightly crunching as she walks over the frostbitten ground. She grabs the cloak from the branch, her smell washing over me as she moves. Isawaemar… A brief, almost silent exhale escapes me as I inhale her scent.

  The gentle chattering of her teeth and her soft voice stir me out of my focused thoughts. I open my eyes and watch as she takes all her clothes and holds them tightly to herself.

  “C-can I get dressed in the t-tent? Near the f-fire?” She rattles out, moving in front of me.

  The cloak is wrapped tightly around her, showing her figure that’s usually hidden under her clothes. I catch my eyes tracing her, before forcing myself to bring my eyes back up to her face. The corner of my lip tugs at her chattering teeth, and I dip my head into a nod.

  She moves ahead, her steps careful, clearly conscious that I’m watching her. I don’t linger behind and follow in strides. The cloak shifts with each sway of her hips, brushing along the floor, the hem dangerously close to her heels. I watch as the fabric gathers under her foot and drags down the cloak. In an instant, the cool, pale skin of her back is exposed. The fabric drags further down the soft curve of her hips, revealing the small imprint on her lower back. My eyes gather the sight before stepping into action. Without a second thought, my hand moves, catching the cloak and lifting it over her shoulder, back into pce. The tips of my fingers glide across her chilled skin, the faint smell of the flower as well as something else, something hers, entrances me for a moment. A flicker of heat coils in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. I let the moment pass without a word, steadying myself back into pce.

  She looks over her shoulder, grabbing the cloak, her face flushed red. My eyes don’t leave her until she looks away and keeps walking. She is no threat.

  Not yet, at least…