He huffs through his nose, then flops dramatically to his side, paws outstretched, as if to saynot a chance.
I snort, the tiniest smile tugging at the edge of my mouth. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Warmth fills me, not in rage, but in quietrecognition.
They’re giving me space…but they haven’t left me behind like the humans did. They’re simply waiting for me to make my decision on how I want to move forward.
While appreciation blossoms in me for this shift in quiet support, I still feel too raw emotionally to be in the home of the three that wait in the distance.
I could traverse this world alone, but I’d rather learn alongside others, while retaining my autonomy. The companionship I felt in Torryn’s quiet presence gives me hope that I can find that with the shifters. Ever since the kings stumbled upon me, he’s been the most gentle and sincere.
There’s never a mask or wall in place. He seems to wear his emotions on display for all to see, be it good or bad.
I reach down, brushing my fingertips against the fur along Torryn’s shoulder.
“I want to stay with the shifters.”
His ears twitch before his head lifts.
“I need to learn about this world and I think…” I pause, breathing through the tangle in my throat. “I think your people might let me do that without making me feel like I have to become someone else first.”
Torryn jolts upright, tail swishing behind him as he lets out a soft huff, like surprise and satisfaction wrapped into one sound.
A movement catches my eye beyond the broken building.
Azyric.
He simply disappears into his shadows like they’ve swallowed him whole, but not before I see it–the flicker of hurt in his silver eyes.
A breath catches in my throat. Apparently my voice and decision carried enough for all to hear.
I think of the castle, and for a moment, I think I’ll miss it. The warmth Ilyria provided and the mystery Azyric presented.
Despite that, it wasn’t a forthcoming place for information, and that must be my focus now.
A soft whistle cuts through the quiet.
Sylvin stands now, brushing the dust from his trousers with a theatrical sigh that seems too grand for the ruin around him, per usual.
“Well,” he drawls, arms spread wide as if presenting the shattered remains of the meeting place like a gift, “I suppose my little echo didn’t care for my architectural debut.”
I can’t help but crack a small smile. Leave it to him to soften every moment with his theatrics.
I actually think I’m beginning to enjoy it.
Sylvin’s gaze slides to mine with something warmer beneath the smirk and he nods, as if understanding my decision.
“No matter. I’ll simply have to do better nexttime,” he announces dramatically before jumping off the crumbled wall. “Enjoy the shifters, little echo, but don’t forget that winter finds its way to every part of the world eventually.”
Then he’s gone, vanishing into the trees and humming as his head rocks from side to side with the tune.
That leaves one.
Riven hasn’t moved. He stands where I last saw him, posture straight but tense, like every muscle is stretched too tight beneath his skin. His red eyes are fixed on me, burning in the falling dark. He simply watches me with a detached coldness like I’m already slipping through his fingers.
It makes my chest ache.
I know what he sees when he looks at me. He doesn’t see an enigma to solve anymore, or a threat to be wary of. He sees someone he could bask in.
