Mira stood frozen in the doorway, watching as Kai descended the steps of the cottage. His movements were deliberate, controlled—everything about him now was controlled. The bag on his shoulder swayed slightly with each step, but he didn't slow down. He didn't look back.
She stepped forward, gripping the doorframe as if it could steady her. "Kai." She said it softly, but she knew he heard her. He paused at the bottom of the steps, his back still to her.
"God. Please protect him." Mira's breath came in short, sharp bursts as she watched Kai disappear into the trees at the edge of the clearing. The morning mist clung to the ground, swirling around his ankles as he walked, like nature itself mourning his departure. She gripped the doorframe so tightly her fingers ached.
Then she was moving.
Her boots thudded against the wooden steps, then the dirt path. She ran through the small garden, past the herb beds she'd tended together, past the tree stump where they'd sat side by side countless nights watching the stars. Her chest burned as she pushed through the underbrush, branches snapping against her arms. "Kai!" His name tore from her throat raw and desperate. Kai stopped.
Not immediately—he continued walking for a few more steps, his posture stiff, his fingers twitching against the strap of his bag. Then, finally, he paused. His shoulders rose and fell with a long, slow breath before he turned his head just enough to glance back at her over his shoulder.
Mira stood panting in the middle of the path, her hair coming loose from its braid, her chest heaving. She had never looked so unguarded in front of him—no carefully measured words, no practiced calm. Just raw emotion laid bare.
Kai's eyes flickered across her face. He didn't say anything. He didn't move.
"Kai." Tears spilled from her eyes, her lip trembled fiercely, "I know. I know you want to make your place in this world. Just don't end it like this. I'm sorry okay? I really am I- and even if you don't forgive me. I'm here. Always okay? I-If you need anything- You know what to do you're smart you're-" Her voice cracked stifling a sob she turned away willing her tears to stay she chuckled from embarrassment before harshly rubbing them away with her sleeve.
Kai watched her struggle with herself, his throat tight with emotions he refused to name. The way she stood there, her shoulders shaking despite her efforts to compose herself—the ragged quality of her breathing—it tore at something deep inside him. He had wanted to leave with dignity, with resolve. But seeing her like this, unraveling before him, made it impossible to walk away without a word.
He turned fully to face her. "You're crying." The words came out quieter than he intended. Mira lifted her gaze to meet his, her hands still gripping her sleeves where she had wiped her face. She let out a shaky breath, her eyes red-rimmed but clear.
"Yeah." She gazed at the ground trying to find the right words but only for just a moment.
Lifting her head she wanted to say more but she felt his crushing arms wrapped around her. Kai's arms were strong, tight, crushing the air from her lungs as he pulled her against him. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. His body was tense—every muscle coiled tight with something too raw to name. Mira went still for a moment, then her arms circled his waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt. Her pulse thundered in her ears, loud enough she was sure he must hear it. His grip tightened almost painfully, as if he was afraid she'd slip away. She could feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat where his chest pressed against hers.
"You aren't a bad person Mira," he murmured against her skin, words rough with emotion. She clenched her eyes shut hearing those words crushed her with guilt, "But" He pulled back, "I can't stand by you anymore. You know that right?" She nodded meekly. "I need to do something I just can't sit still while-"
Mira gazed up at the young man she had raised it that moment she saw it him—his jaw set, his eyes dark with purpose. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man who had made his choice. Her hands slid up to his face, feeling the rough stubble along his jaw. Kai didn't pull away. His breath caught when her thumbs brushed the dampness from his skin.
"Then go," she whispered. "Do what you need to do." Kai's fingers curled around her wrists, holding her hands in place against his face. His thumbs moved over her pulse points, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat. "Why?" He spoke quietly. "Why did you follow me out here?" Mira's grip tightened slightly, her fingers tracing the sharp angles of his face.
"Because I needed to tell you something." Her words were soft, but her eyes never wavered from his. "I needed you to know that I do...that I did see you as a person. I never saw you as a burden or a responsibility." Her voice wavered slightly. "You were never just something I had to protect. You were my family."
Kai closed his eyes for a moment, his hands still holding her wrists. When he opened them again, his gaze was steady. "Promise?" The words came out quieter, heavier. Mira's fingers flexed against his skin. "Promise."
*****
After Kai left Mira stood in the field till the sun set she watched until he disappeared but even after she refused to move. The sun had fully set by the time Mira finally turned back toward the cottage. The night was cool against her skin, but she hardly noticed it. Her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides as she walked, her mind replaying every word, every moment of that final conversation with Kai. The memory of his arms around her still burned in her chest—warm, unyielding, but fleeting. He was gone. Really gone.
And yet, as she stood in the doorway of the cottage, staring at the space where his belongings had been, she felt no relief. No peace. Just a gnawing emptiness. She willed herself inside not bothering to lock the door behind her. She glanced around the first floor She ran her fingers along the table where he had sat last night, where they had eaten meals together for years. The memory of his face—hardened with hurt and betrayal—made her throat tighten. She sat heavily in the chair he'd occupied, her fingers brushing against the grooves in the wood where his hands had rested. The silence of the cottage was deafening. She pressed her palm flat against the tabletop as if she could somehow reach back through time and undo the last twenty-four hours.
"Fuck. I really fucked up." The words hung in the empty air, swallowed by the stillness. Mira slumped forward, elbows on the table, face buried in her hands. The wood was cool against her skin, the same wood she and Kai had labored to shape together, sand together, oil together.
Her fingers curled into fists, pressing into her scalp as if she could physically force the guilt away. "Gods, I'm sorry, Kai." The words came out muffled, rough with unshed tears. She pressed her forehead against the table now, letting the cool surface soothe the heat behind her eyes. Her breathing was ragged, uneven.
She hadn't cried this much in years—not since she had first left the order. For some reason the memories flared fresh in her mind but she refused to let them occupy any more space. "Get up Mira."
She forced herself upright, her back stiff with tension. The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the room. She stared at the dying embers, remembering how many nights she and Kai had sat in front of this very hearth, talking in low voices until the early hours. She rose, moving mechanically toward the kitchen area. Grabbing a small jug of wine, she poured herself a measure. The first sip burned down her throat, sharp and bracing. She stood by the hearth, staring into the dimming flames. The cottage was exactly as it had always been—her home, her sanctuary, her place with Kai. But it felt wrong now. Empty. Hollow. Like something essential had been ripped from it.
"What did you expect huh?" She asked out loud drowning another swing, "He wasn't going to be a child forever, eventually he'd see what a shitty person you were." Mira leaned heavily against the hearth, the heat from the dying fire seeping into her back. Her fingers tightened around the wooden cup, knuckles pale. The wine tasted bitter now, metallic, but she drank anyway.
"You know the worst part?" she muttered to the empty room. "I'm not even surprised." She lifted the cup to her lips again, watching the firelight flicker through the dark liquid. "I always knew this would happen. I raised him so well after all. I can at least take credit for that can't I?"
A bitter laugh escaped her. "I just didn't think it would hurt this much." She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the stone mantel.
The cottage was silent except for the crackling of the dying embers and the distant call of an owl in the trees outside. Mira remained motionless for several minutes, her grip loosening on the empty cup as the wine finally took its toll. Her breathing evened out, the sharp edge of her panic gradually smoothing into something quieter—something more manageable.
The wine bottle stood half-empty on the table, its dark glass reflecting the firelight like a pair of distant eyes. Mira's fingers brushed against the cool surface of the hearth, her other hand still clutching the empty cup. The stones beneath her palm felt solid, real, anchoring her to this moment despite the chaos swirling through her mind. She took another shot to seal the deal, tonight she would drink until she felt numb. Mira's fingers traced the rim of the empty cup, her thumb brushing against the last traces of wine left behind. The room had grown colder, the fire reduced to glowing embers that cast flickering shadows along the walls. She should add more wood. She should blow out the lanterns. She should do a hundred other things before sleep dragged her under.
Instead, she remained rooted to the spot, her back against the hearth, her fingers curling around the cool metal of the cup. The wine had dulled the edges of her grief, but not the ache lodged deep in her chest. She took a ragged breath, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling beams, roughhewn and sturdy.
"Guess there's nothing really keeping me here huh?" She took a step forward but stumbled.
"Shit." She whispered into the dark room as her knees hit the wooden floor with a thud. The empty wine cup clattered beside her, rolling across the floor to stop against the table leg. Mira sat back on her heels, her head spinning slightly from the alcohol. The cottage was silent except for her own labored breathing and the distant hoot of an owl outside. She pressed her palms against the cool floorboards, steadying herself. The familiar grooves and scratches from years of use felt grounding beneath her hands.
Her gaze drifted to the window where moonlight silvered the forest beyond. Somewhere out there, Kai was walking alone in the night. The thought sent a sharp twist through her chest. She laid down on the cool wood, she didn't want to move she wanted to stay rooted to the floor even she melted into it. So she did she laid there shutting her eyes until exhaustion overtook her. Mira wakes to the first light of dawn filtering through the window. Her head throbs, mouth dry, taste of wine still thick on her tongue. She doesn't move at first, just stares at the ceiling where morning light stretches across the beams. The fire's gone cold. The house is silent except for the creaking of old wood settling in the cool air. Her body feels heavy, pressed into the floorboards like she belongs there now.
Then she remembers.
Kai.
She sits up too fast, head spinning.Groaning she notices the stickiness coating the wooden floors she squints as she observes the damage, "Goddamit Mira, you just had to be a drunk." She pushes herself up onto her knees, wincing as pain spikes through her skull.
The empty wine bottle sits accusingly on the table, its contents now pooled beneath her in sticky patches across the floor. The room smells of old woodsmoke and spilled alcohol. Her throat feels like she swallowed sand.
"Ow." Mira drags herself upright, bracing against the table as the world tilts. She grabs the nearly empty jug of water nearby and drinks straight from it, the cool liquid doing little to clear the fog in her head. Her reflection in the darkened window shows a woman with wild hair and dark circles beneath her eyes. She looks like a stranger. Outside, the world has moved on without her.
She sighed deeply drinking the last of the water she knew she had to keep going, the first step was to clean the mess she made and then herself. She moves stiffly toward the kitchen area, grabbing a cloth and bucket, filling it with water from the pump outside. The cool morning air makes her shiver, but she welcomes it—anything to counteract the pounding in her skull. Back inside, she kneels with a groan and starts wiping at the sticky patches on the floor. The work is mindless, methodical. It gives her hands something to do while her mind remains blank.
The wine had dulled everything last night, but now the memories come rushing back unbidden. Kai's face when he turned away from her. The raw grief in his voice. The way his arms had felt around her before he pulled away for good. Mira's movements slow as the worst of the mess is cleaned away. She remains kneeling, the damp cloth hanging limply from her fingers. The ache in her chest feels heavier than the physical discomfort of her hangover. She presses the heel of her palm against her sternum as if she could push the pain back down where it belongs.
"I'm fine," she mutters to the empty room. She says it again, louder this time, as if sheer volume will make it true. But when she tries to stand, her legs shake, and she has to catch herself on the table edge. Her reflection in the window catches her eye again—disheveled, hollow-eyed. "You look like hell." She tells herself.
The only benefit of being a single woman alone in a cottage was privacy she filled her bath up in peace and stripped without hesitation, stepping into the steaming water. The heat felt good, seeping into her muscles, easing the stiffness in her neck and shoulders. She sank down until the water lapped at her collarbones, exhaling heavily. The bath was small, intimate—just big enough for one person. She leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, eyes closing as she exhaled slowly. The air carried the faintest trace of pine from the forest outside, mingling with the herbal soaps she and Kai had made together. She scrubbed at her skin, the soap lathering between her fingers, and tried not to think. But the thoughts came anyway. Mira emerges from the bath clean and dressed in fresh clothing, her hair still damp as she moves about the cottage. The early morning light filters through the windows, casting golden streaks across the floor she had scrubbed clean. She pauses by the window, staring out at the path Kai had taken yesterday—now empty, the morning mist still clinging to the ground where his footprints had been. Her fingers press against the windowpane as if she could somehow feel his presence in the air.
The silence of the cottage presses against her, heavy and oppressive. She turns away from the window and walks to the small shelf where she keeps her herbs and tinctures. She glances over and pauses the pendant she found days earlier, "Oh I forgot about you." She chuckled recalling the memory of kai noting her interest in the treasure. "Maybe, I'll go into town and ask about you?"
The pendant glints in the morning light as she lifts it from the shelf. The silver chain coils loosely in her fingers as she examines the intricate work—tiny runes etched into the surface, the metal surface seems stagnant, some of the runes she recognizes, some she doesn't. The stone at its center is smooth and dark, absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. A small chill runs through her despite the warmth of the cottage.
Mira hangs the pendant around her neck, the cool metal settling against her collarbone. The weight of it feels strange—heavier than it should be. She touches it absently as she moves about the cottage, preparing for the day.
The town comes into view gradually—a cluster of thatched roofs rising above the tree line, smoke curling from chimneys. She pulled her hood up the empires knights were sure to be hanging around still, she made her way to her local dealer. The streets are quiet this early, only a few merchants setting up their stalls and a handful of townspeople already bustling about their morning routines. Mira keeps her head down as she passes the imperial guard post, noting their presence with a glance. She doesn't recognize any of the faces here—these men are new, rotated in to replace the previous detachment.
She ducks into an alley between the general goods store and the butcher's shop, knocking twice on a nondescript door before stepping back. A moment later, the door creaks open to reveal a hunched figure in a dark cloak. "Mira." The man's voice is gravelly from years of tobacco smoke. "You're early."
"Is that hard to believe or something?" She asked jutting her hip to the side. The man chuckles, his yellowed teeth flashing in the dim light of the doorway. "Hard to believe you're early and sober, maybe. You know I don't open until the bell rings." He gestures to the brass bell hanging above his shop door, still silent in the pre-dawn light.
Mira sighs, shifting her weight. "You're still making me wait out here like some common thief, even after all these years?"
"Common thieves don't buy my stock, sweetheart. They steal it." He leans against the doorframe, studying her with eyes that miss nothing. "You look like shit, by the way."
"Thanks, Pater really such a gentleman." She crossed her arms staring down the alleyway.
"Where's the kid?" Mira stiffens, her fingers tightening around the pendant at her throat. She hadn't expected that question—not so soon, not so directly. Her mouth opens slightly, but no immediate answer comes. Pater's lined face remains impassive, but his gaze sharpens as he watches her reaction. "Kai," she finally says, voice steady even as her heart beats faster. "He- He's doing his own thing now." She plastered on a smile.
Pater exhales through his nose, stepping back to let her inside Pater swung the door open, "Let's not linger out here."
The dimly lit shop smells of herbs and leather, a faint acrid odor permeating the space. Shelves line the walls, filled with bottles of varying colors and shapes. A small brazier burns in one corner, casting flickering light over a cluttered workbench. Pater shuffles to the counter and pulls out a ledger, setting it down with a thump.
"Didn't expect to see you without him." He scratches at his stubbled jaw as he studies her. "He usually keeps you on a tight leash." His words carry no malice, just an observation.
Mira bristles slightly but forces herself to remain still. "I don't need to be on a leash, Pater."
"Some would beg to differ." Mira rolled her eyes pulling her hood down her brown eyes followed the merchant, "How are you holding up? I heard the empire is laying siege to guilds left and right."
Pater let out a dry chuckle, leaning his elbows on the counter. "They're trying. But they don't understand how the guilds work. They can shut down one location, but there's always another." He gestures vaguely to the walls of his shop. "Even this little hole in the wall." His fingers drum against the worn wood of the counter.
"What brings you here so early, Mira? Don't tell me you're just here to shoot the shit." She reached into her pocket and withdrew the pendant, setting it on the counter between them. "I found this a few days ago. It was in the ruins by Morestown,"
"And." She pulled out a hefty bag of coins from the chest in the ruins, "Wanted to ask you what I could get for these" Pater's fingers hovered over the pendant before he reached out to lift it from the counter. His lined face hardened as he examined the intricate engravings, the stone at its center darkening almost imperceptibly beneath his touch.
"Where exactly did you say you found this?" His voice was quieter now, lacking its usual casual tone.
Mira shifted under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "The ruins I mentioned. In Morestown By the old shrine. It was quite the challange." She watched as Pater turned the pendant slowly in his hands, the silver catching the dim light from the brazier. The runes seemed to pulse faintly under his fingers, though it could have been a trick of the flickering flames.
His eyes moved over to the bag of coins he pulled one out studying it intently "These are old imperial coins," he murmured, tossing the coin back into the bag. "Not circulating anymore. Not for decades."
Mira leaned forward, resting her forearms on the counter. "That's why I thought you might know something about them. About the pendant too." Pater's gaze flickered to her face, something unreadable in his expression. "I haven't the faintest idea about the pendant." Mira sighed, "Guess, you aren't that well versed in treasure and trinkets are you?"
Pater's lips twitched into a half-smile, though his eyes remained serious. "Oh, I know plenty about treasure, sweetheart. More than I'd like to." He set the pendant down carefully, his fingers brushing over the stone as if reluctant to let go. "But this—this isn't treasure. Not in the usual sense." His words had dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "This is something else entirely."
Mira leaned in slightly, the pendant's weight against her collarbone feeling heavier now. "What do you mean?"
Pater glanced up at her, his face in the dim light, shadows deepening the lines around his eyes. "I can tell it's not man made." Mira's gaze sharpens with interest as she watches Pater's face darken.
"What do you mean it's not man made? Are you saying it's magical?" She leans forward, her fingers unconsciously touching the pendant still hanging around her neck. Pater's eyes follow the movement, his expression growing more serious.
"Magical is such a crude word for what this is." He runs his thumb over the dark stone at the pendant's center, and for a moment, it seems to pulse with a faint, inner light. "This is something that predates the empire. Predates the kingdoms. Predates even the old gods, from what I've heard."
"Bullshit." Pater winced at her crassness, "Mira." He shook his head, leaning back slightly, but his fingers remained resting lightly on the pendant. "I don't know much about it. I've only seen one like this before—and that was thirty years ago in a place you wouldn't want to visit. But I do know this." He met her gaze steadily. "Whatever you've got tangled up with here—it's not something you should be messing with alone."
Mira eyed him dubiously waving his concern away, "Right now how much are you willing to offer for the coins?" She flashed him her signature smile, a cheeky grin that was accentuated by her full lips.
Pater sighed, shaking his head as he pushed the bag of coins back toward her. "I can give you a fair price, but not what you're hoping for. These aren't worth much on the open market—they're too recognizable. Too old. Imperials would have questions if they saw this many being sold at once."
He rubbed at his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "I can give you a hundred and fifty for the lot." He paused, then added, "But that's just for the coins. I can't do anything about the pendant. That's something else entirely."
Mira scoffed, crossing her arms. "That's hardly worth the effort of carrying them here." Pater shrugged, his lined face showing genuine regret. "Take it or leave it, sweetheart. I'm not running some kind of charity operation here." He tapped the counter with one gnarled finger. "I can tell you one thing though—if you really need to unload this stuff, you're better off finding a collector. Someone who doesn't mind asking questions."
Mira's fingers toyed with the pendant at her throat, feeling the stone's cool weight against her skin. "You know anyone like that?" she asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice. Pater regarded her with a calculating look. "Maybe. But collectors don't come cheap. And they don't usually deal in coin." Mira sighed, "I nearly lost my life over this! Kai and I-.....just barely made it. Jax-"
Jax's name caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard. "The least you can do is point me in the right direction." Pater's face softened slightly at the crack in her voice. He leaned forward, voice dropping lower. "There's an old scholar up in the hills—Harrow, they call him. Reclusive bastard, but he's got more knowledge about antiquities than anyone I know. He might be willing to pay a fair price for something like that." He gestured to the pendant. "But Mira—" He paused, his lined face serious. "If you're going to see him, you need to know what you're walking into. Harrow doesn't deal in coin. He deals in favors."
Mira's fingers tightened around the pendant as she met Pater's gaze. "What kind of favors?" Her voice was steady despite the sudden tightness in her chest.
Pater shrugged, but the gesture was unconvincing. "The kind that get people killed. The kind that bind you to him for years." He studied her face, his gaze sharp despite his age. "Harrow isn't a man you bargain with lightly. He's not a merchant; he's a collector. And collectors hoard more than just artifacts—they hoard people too." A chill ran through Mira despite the warm room. She fingered the pendant absently. "How do I find him?"
"Did you not hear what I said?" Mira rolled her eyes, "I can take care of myself, don't worry." Pater sighed, leaning back against the counter. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
He pulled out a piece of parchment and began sketching a crude map, his fingers surprisingly steady for a man of his age. "Take the north road out of town, past the old mill. When you hit the fork, take the left path—it's not the main one, but it's the only one that goes where you need to go. Follow it until you hit the ridge." His pencil moved rapidly, marking twists and turns with precise lines. "There's a stone marker there, covered in ivy. Break through it, and you'll see the path up the hill."
"Sounds lovely," Mira muttered, taking the map and folding it carefully. "Just the kind of stroll I love."
Pater snorted. "At least you'll have the company of the wind. Harrow doesn't see many visitors these days." He leaned forward again, his eyes fixed on hers with unexpected intensity. "Last chance to reconsider, Mira. This isn't just coin. This isn't just trinkets. You're holding something old as the bones of the world, and it's noticed you."
He paused, watching her reaction carefully. "And I think it likes you." The words sent an involuntary shiver through Mira. She fingered the pendant, feeling its cool surface against her skin. "Noted."