"Sure, I appreciate you caring about Areia enough to track me down, but why are you following me?" Dan asked, his irritation bubbling over as they navigated the crowded streets.
"Well, I'm bored," Antrea said simply, her tone as flat as a discarded game cartridge. She wasn't even walking; she was floating along beside him as if gravity were merely a suggestion she chose to ignore. "I told Thranduil and the others I'd be back in a while, it's no biggie. They're busy playing bodyguard, escorting a princess and her brother to the Beast Kingdom as we speak."
"Well, then gooo! Aren't you supposed to be part of their party?" Dan groaned, rubbing his temples.
"I told you, I'm bored. I feel better with you around," Antrea replied, casually drifting over to sit on his shoulder. Her long black hair waved unnaturally in the air, defying the wind. "It's dull without you and Areia. The vibes are totally off."
The streets were bustling, and the sight of a tiny girl floating on Dan's shoulder was starting to draw stares. Croc leaned in, her golden eyes narrowed in confusion. "Um, Contractor... who exactly is she?"
"Same here," Lilly added, walking beside Dan, she was buzzing with curiosity. "I'm dying to know the lore behind this one."
"I'm his girlfriend!" Antrea yelled happily, her voice ringing out across the crowded market.
"She's not," Dan said, his voice dripping with the exhaustion of a man who had reached his limit.
It had been a few days since his "Unsightly" trip to the Beast Kingdom. They'd settled the business with the spear and even had the heavy talk about Croc's lost tribe—everything went surprisingly well, all things considered. The only problem was that after Antrea went back to check on Thranduil's group and her "sleeping beauties," she zipped right back to Dan. And now? She was practically glued to him.
"She's someone I know," Dan replied, his voice heavy with warning. "And don't go bothering her. She's extremely powerful. I'm sure you've already learned that the hard way, Croc."
Croc went silent for a moment, likely remembering the sensation of being launched through several mountains when she had first charged the girl. It had taken a full day of searching to find her; she had been found in a distant pond, casually hunting fish as if she hadn't just rearranged the local geography.
"I believe I can take her," Croc said, her voice firm despite the memory.
Antrea leaned down from Dan's shoulder, her face moving inches from his until her massive mane of dark hair completely blocked his line of sight. She smelled strangely of fresh berries, a scent that felt out of place in the dusty marketplace.
"I'm sure you realize this already, but we're being followed," she whispered.
"I don't want trouble in a crowded street," Dan said. He didn't stop walking, blindly navigating the path even with her face obstructing his view. The surrounding crowd was starting to stop and stare at the bizarre sight of the white-haired man walking with a girl draped over him like a scarf.
"Should I kill him? It's one of the Kins of the Sphere," Antrea continued, her voice dropping to a soft, dangerous silk. "The ones who killed your father. Are you sure you want to ignore him?"
Her dark eyes locked onto his red ones, searching for a spark of the rage she knew lived inside him.
"If I flew into a rage and tried fighting someone that strong here, this entire continent would cease to exist," Dan said simply. "Let's leave them. At the very least, he doesn't seem hostile right now. "
"You're right," Antrea laughed. she pulled her head back, leaning so far over Dan's shoulder that her weight shifted his center of gravity.
"If you keep pulling me like that, you're going to fall!" Dan yelled, stumbling as he tried to regain his balance.
"It's fine!" Antrea laughed, completely unbothered by the physics of the situation.
Behind them, Croc and Lilly watched the exchange with narrow eyes. They had been too far back to hear the whispered conversation about the Kins of the Sphere or Dan's father; all they saw was a display of strange, intimate playfulness.
"They seem pretty close to me," Croc muttered, her hand resting on the hilt of her weapon.
"I'm not commenting," Lilly replied, though her gaze remained fixed on the back of Dan's head.
Upon reaching the inn, Mira greeted them with her usual warm welcome. Normally, it was just Dan and Croc sharing a room, but the group had grown a bit since their last visit.
"I think we'll need another room," Dan sighed, beating Mira to the punch. "Croc, you'll share with Lilly, and I'll take our original room."
Dan spoke distractedly, his attention elsewhere. On his shoulder, Antrea stared at the run-down, grumpy-looking inn with a look of mild distaste.
"Contractor... are you planning on sharing a room with little miss cheerful?" Croc asked slowly, her voice dropping to a weirdly low, cautious register.
"Yeah. Is there a problem?" Dan asked, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he checked their supplies.
"Not at all, but—" Croc began, her gaze shifting to Antrea.
The tiny girl looked back at her, her expression a mask of pure innocence. "Say nothing," Antrea whispered with a sweet, chilling smile.
Croc's eyes immediately turned dark, her pupils blowing out as she froze, standing as still as a stone statue. The sudden change was so jarring that Lilly let out a small gasp and backed away, her boots scuffing against the wooden floorboards.
"Antrea, stop it," Dan said firmly, finally snapping out of his trance to glare at the girl on his shoulder.
"But I bet she would have said something awkward!" Antrea groaned, pouting as she released her mental grip. Croc staggered slightly, the life rushing back into her limbs as the mind control snapped.
The wooden floorboards of the inn groaned under the weight of the evening silence, though Antrea's footsteps were nearly soundless as she paced. The room was small and cramped, smelling of aged cedar and the faint, metallic scent of the guttering candle on the bedside table. Two narrow beds sat parallel to each other, separated by a sliver of space just wide enough for the flickering shadows to dance.
Antrea traced a finger along the rough, peeling plaster of the wall, her modern attire—a dark, oversized hoodie and fitted leggings—looking like a glitch against the backdrop of the room's archaic stone and timber.
"You've changed," Dan said simply, his voice cutting through the stillness. He sat on the edge of his bed, his white hair glowing like bone in the dim light. The high collar of his traditional, layered tunic framed a face that looked weary despite its youth. "Why is that?"
"It could be that I've always been like this," Antrea smiled. Her black hair gleamed like polished obsidian under the candlelight as she hopped onto her bed, bouncing slightly. The rhythmic creak of the mattress was the only sound in the room.
"No," Dan said, his red eyes narrowing as they locked onto her. "There's something you want to tell me, and I feel like you're trying to bide your time until you have the confidence to say it."
The cheerful mask Antrea usually wore didn't just slip; it vanished. Her shoulders slumped, and the bounce in her step died away. "Stop it, Dan. Don't go analyzing me like that. I might cry if you continue to break down my intentions," she said, her voice losing its melodic edge and turning flat and hollow.
"I'm not going to force you to say anything," Dan sighed, lying back against the thin pillow. He stared up at the dark rafters of the ceiling, his crimson gaze distant. "But just so you know, any of us might die at any moment. There's no time to hesitate."
Antrea slid off her bed and stepped into the narrow gap between them. She stood over him, her dark eyes—vast and bottomless—staring down into his. "Then why do you hesitate when it comes to Areia?"
Dan went still, his expression hardening as he looked away toward the shuttered window, where the night wind whistled through the cracks. "That's something I'll have to deal with later on," he said simply.
The cold night air seeped through the cracks of the shuttered window, carrying the scent of rain and damp earth. It caught Antrea's long black hair, making the dark strands waver like smoke against her oversized hoodie. The candle on the small table between the two beds flickered violently, casting elongated, dancing shadows against the rough stone walls.
"You do know I like you, right?" Antrea said slowly, her voice barely a whisper above the whistling wind.
Dan remained silent, his red eyes fixed on the dark wooden rafters above. The weight of her words seemed to hang in the air, heavier than the silence of the inn. "Yes," he finally replied. "I do."
"And you're not going to turn me down or take advances?" she asked, her tone softening, losing the sharp, playful edge she usually used as a shield.
Dan didn't respond. He stayed perfectly still, his white hair spilled across the thin pillow like fallen snow.
"If I ask you to protect me from now until the end of time... would you oblige?" she asked, her dark eyes searching his face for any flicker of hesitation.
"I don't know the extent of my lifespan," Dan replied, his voice steady and grounded, "but I'll protect you to the best of my ability if you're ever in danger."
Suddenly, the heavy atmosphere broke. Antrea began to laugh—a soft, melodic sound that filled the cramped room. It wasn't the mocking cackle she used during a fight; it was a sweet, genuine laughter that made her look breathtakingly human.
"What? You think I'm lying?" Dan asked, taken aback. He sat up slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion at her sudden change in mood.
"No, I'm sure you'll come running if I call you," Antrea said, her eyes shimmering with tears from her laughter. She looked truly happy, her face radiant in the dim amber light of the dying candle. "I won't bother you until we run into each other again."
Before he could react, she reached out and pulled him toward her. She leaned in and planted a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead. Dan didn't flush, but he froze, his red eyes wide with surprise as he felt the warmth of her touch.
She let go of him, and he pulled back silently, watching her as she stepped away and walked toward the open window. The moon caught the edges of her dark hair, silvering it for a fleeting second.
"Areia would kill me had I kissed you on the lips," Antrea said, flashing him one last bright, mischievous smile. "I'll be sure to count on your protection. Until we meet again... I love you."
In a blink, she vanished. The space she had occupied was suddenly empty, leaving only the sound of the wind rattling the shutters. The room went deadly silent, the second bed now cold and undisturbed, leaving Dan alone with the scent of berries lingering in the air.
The crackle of the campfire was the only sound in the clearing, the orange flames licking at the dry wood and casting flickering, long-necked shadows against the surrounding pines. The air was crisp and carried the sharp, clean scent of resin. Thranduil sat hunched over the embers, the firelight catching the deep blue of his hair as he looked up.
"Where have you been?" Thranduil asked, his voice a mix of relief and suspicion.
Antrea approached the circle of light with a strange, light-footed grace. She looked incredibly flustered, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she was wearing a wide, dazed grin that made her look like a schoolgirl who had just shared a secret.
"Sorry," she said softly, her voice drifting as she tilted her head back to stare at the vast, starry sky. The constellations reflected in her dark eyes, which seemed unusually bright. "I just had something I had to take care of."
Cyra sat across from them, her large brown tail resting still on the dirt. She watched Antrea settle down on a log beside her, her sensitive nose twitching as the evening breeze shifted. Underneath the smell of woodsmoke and pine, she caught it—a faint, lingering scent of ozone and the distinct, cool aroma of Dan.
Cyra's eyes narrowed, her gaze lingering on the sheer radiance coming off the gamer. She's been with Dan, Cyra thought privately. She looked back at the fire, deciding it was wiser to keep that realization to herself. The quiet hum of the forest returned, but for Antrea, the world still felt like it was glowing.