Art by @Catsinni
Jihye sat silently, eyes reflecting the firelight as she traced the rim of her teacup. Her mind churned, the silence thick with thought. Then, almost too softly to hear, she said, “The Lurines.”
Rafael’s brow arched, his eyes widening with restrained surprise before narrowing again thoughtfully. “An interesting choice,” he murmured, voice calm but tinged with caution.
Jihye sighed, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “I know. It’s crazy. But they’re the only ones I can think of with enough power to keep Valerian away. They’re autonomous, hidden, and have no love for outside meddling. If they help me, I’m safe.”
Rafael stood, walking toward the fireplace. He tapped the edge of the mantle with two fingers and chewed the inside of his lip as he thought. The fire hissed and crackled, sending sparks up the chimney.
“That,” he said slowly, “is a big if.”
“I know,” Jihye replied, meeting his gaze. “But it’s all I have.”
He nodded once and, without another word, swept from the room, his cloak trailing behind him.
Jihye stared into the fire, torn between hope and dread. Was he coming back? Should she just go on her own? She was used to being alone, but now—
The door banged open. Rafael tossed a pile of neatly folded clothes at her.
“Change into these.”
She caught them against her chest, blinking.
“Caleb will clean your things. We eat, pack, and leave at dawn.”
Jihye stood, hesitating. “You don’t have to come. This isn’t your fight.”
Rafael turned to her, face unreadable. “It is.”
And he was gone.
The clothes were practical: a travel tunic, sturdy trousers, and a dark coat lined with soft fabric. Nothing flashy, but well-made. When Caleb came to collect her worn clothes, he met her eyes briefly and gave a slight nod before turning away.
Later, Caleb returned, leading her down a side corridor lined with flickering lamps. At the end, he opened a carved wooden door, revealing an elegantly appointed bedchamber. The room shimmered with long-forgotten beauty: velvet curtains, a four-poster bed, and silver inlay on the furniture.
Jihye stared in disbelief.
Caleb noticed and gave a wan smile. “Leftover from when the tower was the resplendent hub of our people.”
She turned to him, sensing the sadness behind the words. “Why are you here, Caleb? With Rafael?”
He paused, then spoke softly. “My parents were executed for refusing to fulfil their responsibilities. My mother had strong magic, but she refused to bond with a chosen partner. She loved my father, a man with no gift. They ran. Were caught. Executed. I was spared, in case my blood carried magic. Made ward of the tower. Rafael took me in.”
Jihye stared, her throat tight. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “So am I. But I owe him my life. And now, it seems, so do you.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you for the room.”
Caleb smiled again, this time more gently. “I’ll wake you when the preparations are complete. Rest well, miss. The road ahead isn’t likely to be as comfortable.”
Morning brought grey skies and brisk air. Jihye woke to the smell of bread and the sound of saddlebags being fastened. She washed, dressed, and followed Caleb’s directions to the lower courtyard.
Three horses stood saddled and ready. Rafael was already there, tying down a canvas-wrapped bundle. Caleb adjusted the bridle on the second horse—her horse, the one she had stolen back in the city.
“I hope you’re ready to ride,” Rafael said without looking at her. “Horses will carry more supplies. If they slow us down, I know where we can safely leave them.”
The words were phrased like a question, but the tone was final. Jihye only nodded.
She checked the straps on her bag and patted her pocket. The amulet was still there—bronze, warm from her body heat. Her ace. Rafael didn’t need to know.
They mounted and set off along a narrow trail that twisted down a mountainside. Mist clung to the trees, dampening sound and softening the world. For a long time, they rode in silence, the only noise the crunch of hooves and the whisper of the wind.
Jihye took the time to study Rafael. He rode like a soldier, posture upright, movements efficient. But his eyes flicked constantly between the path and the trees. Alert. Ready.
After several hours, they stopped at a bend overlooking a deep valley. The trees here were older, taller. The path forked, one branch descending into the mist, the other climbing toward a ridge.
Rafael dismounted, stretching his legs. “We camp here tonight.”
Jihye slid off her horse, legs stiff. She rubbed her calves and helped Rafael unpack. They set up a small fire behind a thick stand of trees and warmed a pot of stew Caleb had packed.
Night settled over the valley, thick and cold. Jihye lay wrapped in her cloak, eyes fixed on the stars above. Rafael watched over the fire, gaze distant.
Eventually, she asked, “Do you believe the prophecy? About me?”
He didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice was low.
“I believe that things happen for a reason. Even if we don’t know what it is yet.”
Jihye considered that.
Then she closed her eyes and let the wind sing her to sleep.