"This is getting complicated," Chad murmured, glancing at Remy.
"Yeah, it is... and we can't even activate our Sar because of this damn barrier," Remy thought, his eyes drifting to the sky where a pulse of light shimmered and waved across the heavens.
"Yeah… Let's just go back. The city is starting to give me the creeps."
They climbed onto their cart and rolled down the streets, leaving behind the suffocating city walls and heading out into the vast fields. The sky was a deep, endless blue, the stars scattered like pearls cast into the ocean. Above them, Sethfar's twin moons shone halfway lit, their halves crossing one another like an X etched into a treasure map.
Cicadas whistled from the grasses as they passed.
From the corner of his eye, Remy caught a flicker of movement. He snapped his head toward it, just in time to glimpse the scarecrow. That same eerie bushy thing that looked human. It had moved.
"Bloody hell, we just might die here…" Remy muttered, laughing nervously.
"What's that, Remy?" Chad asked, raising a brow.
"It's… it's probably nothing. Charles, how are you? You haven't said much since the whole thing in town. Are you okay, mate?" Remy's voice cracked, cornered with worry.
"Charles… Charles, mate, are you okay?" He pressed again.
"I wonder… what flowers I should by for her…" Charles murmured, lost in thought.
"What's this about—flowers?" Remy's voice pitched higher, sharper.
"Flowers? What flowers? Who's talking about flowers?" Charles snapped back, suddenly flustered.
"Yeah, mate, there's definitely something you're hiding," Remy muttered under his breath.
He turned back toward the fields—and froze. The scarecrow had shifted. It wasn't standing where it had been before.
At last, they reached the house and climbed off the cart. Waiting at the door was Lucy.
"Hello there! How was your trip to the city? Did you enjoy it, Cha—arles?" she teased, dragging out his name with a playful lilt. Her laughter bubbled out as she covered her mouth, and Charles's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
"It was… quite okay, m'lady," Charles answered, offering her an exaggerated bow.
"Ha! Blasphemy—I'm no lady," she protested, swatting him with her paper fan before hiding her smile behind it. Then, still grinning, she slipped upstairs.
"You look awfully happy for someone who's just been teased," Chad noted, catching the wide grin spreading across Charles's face as his eyes followed Lucy's retreat.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Charles muttered, waving it off as they descended to their lodgings.
"Just be careful," Chad warned, his tone low and wary. "There's something strange about all of this…"
The boys settled into their beds, each lost in thought, replaying the day's events in silence. Sleep came quickly—too quickly—as rain battered against the roof with a rhythmic tune.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The raindrops bounced then.
Crack!
Thunder rolled in from the distance, and the air carried the rich, earthy scent of wet soil.
Sometime in the night, Remy stirred. His throat was dry, so he rose for a drink of water. That was when he noticed Charles's bed was empty.
Perhaps he went to relieve himself, Remy thought, dismissing it at first.
He returned to his bed but couldn't get himself to sleep no matter how hard he tried. As the minutes ticked by, unease gnawed at him.
"Chad… Chad, wake up," Remy hissed, shaking his friend's shoulder.
"Ha… wha—what is it…" Chad mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Charles has been gone for a while now. I don't know what's going on," Remy whispered, his voice heavy with worry.
"Ah, damn it. That fool—he better not get us into trouble," Chad cursed, leaping from his bed.
Moments later, the boys slipped outside. Midnight's chill bit into their toes, their breath puffing white in the dark.
In Chad's hand a small torch flickered against the winds of the rain.
"Bloody hell, my face feels numb," Remy muttered, rubbing his cheeks to stir warmth.
"Look—there." Chad pointed at the ground. "Footsteps. Faint, but fresh."
The trail pulled them forward. The earth was slick with mud, every step threatening to send them sprawling. The night pressed close around them, broken only by clusters of glowing flowers scattered across the yard, their pale light casting ghostly patches against the dark.
"Bloody hell, how far did he get…" Remy muttered, rubbing his shoulders against the freezing air. The footsteps trailed on and on until, at last, they stopped.
From the distance rose a tree. Its trunk was massive, its branches spreading like a house that had grown into the sky. But what caught their eyes most was the color—it glowed with a deep crimson, the same unsettling shade they had seen back in the city.
Then came the sound.
A laugh. Soft, breathless, unmistakable.
"Hahaha… truly, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Charles's voice carried from beneath the great tree, light and giddy.
"Oh? And have you seen many a pretty woman before?" Lucy's words followed, sharp and teasing.
"Well… you could say I have," Charles answered smoothly. "But none… none come close to you. Maybe it's your eyes, or the way you smile… but truly, there's something about you that draws me in." His tone was practiced, almost rehearsed.
Chad groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "Ahhh, come on. All this fuss—just so he could be alone with a woman? Has he gone mad with love?" With a frustrated sigh, he turned, already starting back the way they'd come.
"Remy… Remy, are you coming or what?" Chad called out.
Remy stood frozen, his eyes locked on the crimson tree. "Can you see that? The fruit—it looks like it's… growing. Or maybe I'm just too tired…"
Chad paused, glanced back, then suddenly caught the faint sound of kissing. His face twisted, and he turned away in disgust."Bloody hell. You want to ruin my eyes? You're just seeing things, Remy. Let's go." He started forward again, shaking his head.
Reluctantly, Remy followed, though unease pressed heavy on his chest. Something in him screamed that this was wrong.
And indeed—it was. Had Remy listened to his gut and stepped closer to the tree, there still might have been a chance to save their friend. But hesitation had taken root, and that single moment of doubt had just cost him dearly and was about to cost him even more.