The silence of the night by the riverside felt dense, yet strangely, it no longer suffocated the lungs the way it had on previous nights.
Nearly a month had passed since they first met among the dead roots of the Burnt Grove. In that short span of time—one that somehow felt like years—they had shared many things.
From splitting the skulls of low-grade demons that attacked in the dark, to petty arguments over rock-hard bread supplies, to desperate moments when they had to shelter beneath the same cloak while heavy rain poured relentlessly over the earth.
And yet, to Kaera, their connection still felt like two parallel lines that refused to cross.
In the mind that was always filled with strategies and caution, they were nothing more than traveling companions.
No more, no less. Just two souls who happened to be walking in the same direction for the sake of survival.
But tonight felt different.
After their stomachs were finally filled with perfectly cooked rabbit meat—a miracle for their battered taste buds—the air itself seemed to carry a different rhythm.
The dying firewood crackled occasionally, sending red sparks dancing into the air before they vanished into the eternal dark.
Above them, the night sky stretched into a breathtaking masterpiece. Thousands of stars decorated the heavens with the clearest brilliance they had seen all week.
The Milky Way stretched across the sky like a river of pearls spilled over endless black velvet. Moonlight bathed the grasslands at the foot of the hill, casting a soft silver shimmer across the calm river's surface.
A gentle night wind drifted through, carrying the scent of damp earth and cool freshness.
It brushed through Kaera's dark hair, hair that was usually stiff with the dust of battle.
The atmosphere was too peaceful.
Too beautiful.
And that peace slowly began tearing down the walls Kaera had spent years building around herself.
For someone who had sworn to live in constant vigilance, tranquility itself was the real enemy.
Kaera leaned against a large stone that still held the warmth of the day's sun.
Her katana rested close beside her, always within reach. But her grip on the hilt was no longer as tight as usual. The tension in her shoulders slowly melted away, as if the iron within her was beginning to soften.
Across the fire, Eira had yet to surrender to sleep.
The elf girl was casually playing with a small stream of water she had drawn from the river using her Nature magic.
Droplets hovered in the air, swirling gracefully with the movement of her slender fingers in a playful rhythm. The firelight reflecting on the floating water created a mesmerizing dance of light, as if Eira were holding a tiny fragment of the night sky in her palm.
"Eira."
Kaera's voice broke the silence.
It wasn't sharp. It sounded fragile—almost swallowed by the whisper of the cold night wind.
Eira immediately stopped her little water dance. The droplets fell back into the river with soft splashes.
She raised an eyebrow, looking at Kaera with the faint smile that almost always rested on her face—a smile that often made Kaera wonder what secrets were hidden within the calm heart of this elf girl.
"Hm?"
Kaera still didn't look at her. Her gaze remained fixed on the darkening horizon, watching the stars as though they were silently judging her.
"Why are you still following me?"
The question caught Eira off guard.
She hadn't expected Kaera to ask that after a whole month of traveling together through more hardship than joy.
Eira released the last drops of water in her hand, letting them fall into the grass before answering with the calmest voice Kaera had ever heard from her.
"Because you never told me to leave."
The answer was simple.
But it struck Kaera's chest harder than any punch.
Kaera fell silent.
She had expected something logical—something about a mission, fate, or repaying a debt. Reasons that made sense.
Instead, Eira gave the most human answer possible.
The corner of Kaera's lips lifted slightly.
A rare smile.
Thin as a strand of silk, yet filled with meaning.
Kaera took a long breath, letting the cool night air fill her lungs. She gathered her courage to press further, wanting to test just how far the loyalty of the girl before her truly went.
"What if I said I kill every demon I see… no matter their age?"
Eira didn't answer immediately.
Her cheerful expression faded into something serious. The firelight flickered within her eyes as she looked directly at Kaera.
The silence between them grew heavy.
"I'd want to know why first," Eira replied shortly.
To her, the world was never simply black and white. And she knew Kaera wasn't a soulless assassin who killed for pleasure.
"What if I lied to you about who I really am?" Kaera pressed again, her voice now barely above a whisper.
Eira let out a small sigh that sounded almost like a quiet laugh.
"Then I'll know when you're ready to be honest. I'm not going to force you, Kaera."
Kaera lowered her head slightly, letting her hair hide part of the expression that was beginning to crack.
She picked up a small stone from the ground, rolling it between her fingers before tossing it down the hill.
The stone bounced once… twice… before disappearing into the darkness of the valley—just like the secrets she had kept buried for so long.
"I was eight years old… when I watched my mother die right in front of me."
Her voice had grown heavier now. Each word felt as though it was being dragged out from the darkest pit of her heart.
An old wound that had long been sealed beneath coldness began to bleed again.
"She died trying to save me. The demon clan came looking for my father. You've heard his name before… Astaroth."
Eira didn't interrupt.
She didn't move away.
She didn't show fear.
Even though that name alone was enough to shake the entire continent with dread.
She simply listened.
Letting Kaera release the poison that had lived inside her soul for years.
"He used to be a General. Powerful. Feared. Cold-blooded." Kaera continued.
"But he chose to run. He repented. He tried to become a good father… but that wasn't enough to protect us from his past."
Kaera clenched her fist until her nails dug into her palm, searching for physical pain to drown the pain in her chest.
"I don't even know if he's still alive. But I'm going to find him. I need to know why he didn't fight to the death that night."
Her voice trembled.
"I need to know… whether I should hate him… or forgive him."
Her eyes began to glisten. The reflection of the fire trembled inside the tears gathering there.
But she bit her lip.
Not a single tear fell.
For ten years she had trained herself to become as hard as stone. And tonight, she refused to let that wall collapse completely.
Eira slowly stood up.
Her movements were careful—like approaching a wounded animal that might run if startled.
She walked toward Kaera and sat beside her, close enough for Kaera to feel the warmth of her presence against the cold night air.
"You don't need all those answers right now, Kaera," Eira said softly. But there was quiet strength in her voice.
"And most importantly… you don't have to carry this burden alone anymore."
Kaera slowly turned toward her.
This time, she didn't avoid Eira's gaze. In the elf girl's eyes, she didn't see pity.
She saw something else.
Solidarity.
And for the first time in that dark night, Kaera saw a faint thread of light in a future that had once seemed completely black.
"…I trust you, Eira," Kaera whispered.
"But I can't promise I'll always be okay."
Eira smiled sincerely—a smile bright enough to rival the stars above them.
"That's fine," she said gently.
"I'll be there when you are okay… and I'll still be there when you're not."
Silence returned.
But it was no longer the awkward silence of strangers or hidden secrets.
A soft night breeze passed between them, brushing through their hair as they now sat shoulder to shoulder.
Fireflies began emerging from the bushes, dancing around the fading campfire as if celebrating the bond that had just formed.
Beneath the silent witness of a thousand stars, an unspoken promise carved itself into both their hearts.
The journey ahead was still long. Enemies still lurked within every shadow.
But the weight on Kaera's shoulders… was no longer hers alone.
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