The rain hadn't let up since they'd crossed the western ridge. Not even a damn drizzle.
Droplets snaked down Eryndor's hood, cold little trails on his jaw before they splattered onto the soaked earth. The forest was a blur of green and gray, every tree whispering secrets under the storm's weight. Or maybe that was just him, losing it.
Their footsteps were swallowed by the mud. Luca led, his boots sinking a little with each step, his cloak plastered to his back. Even soaked to the bone, he had that composure that Eryndor both envied and… resented, maybe.
"Keep close," Luca said, not turning around. His voice was firm, but quieter than usual, almost lost to the wind.
"I am," Eryndor replied, having to shout to be heard.
He was running on fumes. Two nights of running, hiding, nearly getting caught by the Academy's hunters… it was pushing him past his limit. But he couldn't stop. Not now. Too much on the line, too much to lose if they got caught again.
They'd only gotten away because Luca had made the call no one else would have: torching part of the research wing as a distraction. Eryndor hadn't even known he could do something like that.
Thunder rumbled overhead, long and heavy.
Eryndor glanced sideways. Rain plastered Luca's hair to his forehead, making him look… different. His sharp profile seemed carved from the storm itself, focused, unyielding.
"How much farther?" Eryndor asked, his breath hitching.
"Two miles, maybe three," Luca said. "Once we reach the ravine, we'll rest. The trees are thick enough to hide our trail."
Eryndor nodded, even though his legs screamed for a break.
For a while, they were silent. The forest did the talking, the steady drumming of rain, the croak of some unseen creature, the snap of branches under their boots.
At some point, Eryndor realized their steps had fallen into sync. Stupid thing to notice, but he did. In the middle of this cold, endless rain, that shared rhythm felt like a thread connecting him to something… human.
He tried not to think about what had happened back at the Academy. The look on the Head Researcher's face as the alarms blared, the fire spreading too fast…
Luca's hand gripping his wrist, pulling him into the darkness. "Run."
That voice still echoed in his head.
When they finally stopped, Eryndor leaned against a mossy tree, gasping. The rain had eased to a drizzle, leaving the air thick with mist.
Luca crouched nearby, studying the ground. "They haven't caught up. No new tracks."
Eryndor exhaled shakily. "Good." He tilted his head back, letting the cool drops hit his skin. The forest smelled like wet bark and earth, sharp, alive, real.
For the first time in days, he let himself breathe.
Luca watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You should rest while you can."
Eryndor smiled faintly. "You always sound like you're giving orders."
Luca raised a brow. "Old habits."
"I know." Eryndor looked at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "And yet, you still came with me."
Luca didn't answer. He just looked up at the canopy, where the last of the rain trickled down like silver threads. "You really think I'd let you walk into exile alone?"
Eryndor's heart did a little skip. "That's not what I meant."
"I know," Luca said softly.
Silence settled again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The tension between them had shifted since their escape. It wasn't just fear anymore, it was about everything unsaid, everything that had been building since their first night working side by side.
The first time Eryndor had seen Luca, he'd thought he was impossible to read: the Academy's golden boy, brilliant and arrogant, untouchable. But now, seeing him drenched in mud, his eyes sharp even in exhaustion, Eryndor realized that the walls around Luca weren't made of pride, they were made of loneliness.
And, God help him, he wanted to break through them.
A distant crack split the quiet. Both of them froze.
Luca's hand went to the hilt of his dagger. His eyes scanned the mist. "Did you hear that?"
"Yeah," Eryndor whispered. "It came from the east."
They crouched low, blending into the roots and ferns. The forest went still again, the drizzle fading into silence.
Then, the faintest movement, branches brushing, slow and deliberate.
Luca's jaw tightened. "Not wind."
Eryndor felt his heartbeat kick up a notch. "Patrols?"
"No," Luca murmured, studying the rhythm of the sound. "Too heavy. Too slow."
A shadow flickered in the fog.
Luca reached out instinctively, his hand closing around Eryndor's wrist to pull him back. The warmth of his touch, even through the cold, made Eryndor freeze for a completely different reason.
Their eyes met, briefly, sharply, and then the shadow was gone.
Luca leaned close, whispering near Eryndor's ear, "Stay behind me. If it's a creature, don't use light. They hunt by glow."
Eryndor nodded, his pulse hammering against his skin.
Minutes crawled by. The forest waited with them. Nothing moved.
And then, faintly, from somewhere deep in the fog, the sound of low breathing. Wet, ragged, wrong.
Eryndor's throat went dry.
Luca's eyes flickered to him once, steady and calm. "We move on my signal."
The moment stretched. Then,
Snap.
The sound came from right behind them.
Luca spun, dagger raised,
But there was nothing. Just a shimmer in the air, like something had just stepped out of sight.
Eryndor could feel it then, a pulse, low and deep, not sound but vibration. The kind that crawled under your skin.
He realized what it was at the same time Luca did.
"Run," Luca hissed.
They sprinted through the undergrowth, branches tearing at their cloaks. Behind them, something large crashed through the trees, unseen but heavy enough to shake the ground.
"Left!" Luca shouted, grabbing Eryndor's arm and yanking him toward a slope. They slid down, mud flying, until they landed beside a stream that glowed faintly with reflected lightning.
They ducked beneath the bank, chests heaving. The noise faded slowly, whatever was chasing them had stopped.
Eryndor pressed his hand over his racing heart. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Luca answered, his tone low and steady. "But it wasn't human."
For a long moment, they just sat there, side by side, soaked and shaking.
Then, without looking at him, Luca said quietly, "We can't stay here long. When the rain stops, we move again."
Eryndor nodded. "I know."
Still, neither of them moved.
The storm had eased now, leaving behind only the whisper of water and their uneven breathing. Between them, the space felt charged, fragile, alive, and more dangerous than anything in the forest.
Eryndor looked up at Luca again. His hair clung to his cheek, his jaw tight, his eyes glinting like silver in the faint light.
For the first time, Eryndor didn't see the playboy genius from the Academy.
He saw the man who had chosen to burn everything to protect him.
Eryndor leaned back against the muddy slope, his chest still rising and falling too fast. His hands trembled, but not just from the cold. "That thing… it stopped chasing us."
Luca kept his gaze fixed on the fog beyond the stream. "Or it's waiting. Predators in these woods aren't always quick. Some like to watch."
Not exactly comforting, but it was honest. Luca always was.
Eryndor swallowed hard. He'd never been this far from civilization before. No gates, no walls, no sound of the Academy bells. Just wilderness, alive and silent in equal measure.
Luca finally sheathed his dagger, then crouched near the water. "We'll rest until the rain stops. Can't risk a fire."
Eryndor nodded, pulling his knees closer. His cloak clung to him, heavy with rain. The chill seeped into his bones, but exhaustion dulled the worst of it.
He watched as Luca cupped his hands and scooped up water, the movement slow and deliberate. The faint reflection in the stream softened his features, less sharp, almost… human, in a way Eryndor wasn't used to seeing.
Luca caught him staring. "What?"
"Nothing." Eryndor looked away quickly.
"Liar," Luca murmured, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
Eryndor huffed, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat sped up. "You're imagining things."
Luca sat down beside him, their shoulders almost touching. "You've been quiet since we left the Academy. More than usual."
"Not much to say," Eryndor muttered.
"Maybe. But silence says enough."
Eryndor didn't answer. He didn't have the words for the storm raging inside him. He still saw flashes of the fire, the panic, the decision Luca had made in that split second, to destroy the lab and everything in it just to give him a chance to escape.
He turned to look at Luca again. Rain dripped from his jawline, glistening in the faint light. He looked tired, more than he'd ever admit.
"Why did you really come with me?" Eryndor asked quietly.
Luca glanced at him. "Because you would've died if you stayed."
"That's not what I meant."
The silence stretched, filled with the sound of rain.
Finally, Luca sighed. "Because you were right."
Eryndor frowned. "About what?"
"About the Academy," Luca said, his voice low. "About the way they use people like tools. I used to think that was just how the world worked. But when I saw what they were doing to you… I couldn't pretend anymore."
Eryndor's throat tightened. "So you burned it all down."
"Yeah." Luca met his gaze, unflinching. "And I'd do it again."
The honesty in his tone hit harder than Eryndor expected. No hesitation, no regret. Just… truth.
Eryndor looked away, blinking rain from his lashes. "You'll be hunted for this."
"So will you," Luca said softly. "But at least we're not alone in it."
Those words hung between them, warmer than the rain, heavier than the silence.
Time blurred. The storm faded to a drizzle, then to nothing but dripping leaves. When Luca finally stood, his cloak brushed Eryndor's arm lightly. "Come on. We move before dawn."
Eryndor rose, stretching his stiff legs. His body ached, but he forced himself to move. They followed the stream uphill, navigating by the faint moonlight that leaked through the clouds. The path was rough, twisted roots, hidden puddles, but Luca moved like he'd done this a hundred times before.
At some point, Eryndor tripped on a root and stumbled. Luca caught him before he hit the ground.
Their faces were suddenly close, too close.
The world seemed to narrow to the space between their breaths, to the warmth of Luca's hand on his arm. The moment lingered a heartbeat too long before Eryndor pulled back, his cheeks flushed with something more than cold.
"Thanks," he mumbled.
Luca's voice was barely audible. "Watch your step."
They walked on, neither speaking. The tension wasn't sharp anymore, it was quieter, deeper, like an unspoken truth that refused to fade.
When the trees finally parted, they stood on a narrow cliff overlooking a misty valley. Faint lights flickered below, a village, maybe a trading post.
Eryndor's breath caught. "We made it."
"Almost," Luca corrected. "We stay above the ridge until nightfall tomorrow. The hunters might still be behind us."
Eryndor nodded, but his eyes stayed on the distant lights. For the first time in days, it didn't feel like the world was ending.
They built a small shelter beneath an overhang, using dry leaves and branches. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The forest was quieter here, filled with the scent of pine and rain-soaked stone.
Eryndor sat near the entrance, gazing out at the faint glow below. "You think they'll ever stop chasing us?"
Luca's answer came after a long pause. "No. But maybe that's not what matters."
Eryndor turned to him. "Then what does?"
Luca met his gaze, his expression unreadable but… sincere. "That we keep running. Together."
The simplicity of it made Eryndor's chest ache in a way he couldn't name.
The wind shifted, carrying the faint hum of the forest through their small shelter. Luca leaned back against the rock wall, his eyes half-closed with exhaustion. "Get some sleep," he said quietly. "You'll need your strength."
Eryndor hesitated, then nodded. He lay down beside him, close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from Luca's shoulder.
The storm had passed. But the sound of rain still echoed in his mind, steady, fragile, like a heartbeat trying not to fade.
He didn't realize he was drifting off until he felt something brush against his hand. Not a gesture, not an accident, just a small, silent reassurance that he wasn't alone.
By the time he opened his eyes again, the rain had stopped, and the first light of dawn was breaking over the valley.