The night before the hunt, Kael found Feyla waiting outside the training tents. The firelight caught her expression — uncertain, almost guilty.
"Kael," she said softly, stepping closer. "I… I never said sorry. After the cave… when Jorin carried you back, I thought you were gone. I couldn't bring myself to talk to you properly after. I didn't know what to say."
Kael scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to respond. "You don't need to apologize. I was the one who scared everyone half to death."
She shook her head, her eyes shining with something more. "That's just it. Every time I see you now, I think of that moment. I keep wondering if, next time, you won't come back. And tomorrow—" she bit her lip, glancing away—"tomorrow we're hunting skybeasts. They're fast, Kael. If one of them gets you off guard—"
Without thinking, she reached for his hand. This time, it wasn't accidental. Her fingers tightened around his, warm and trembling.
"Stay close to me," she said, her voice steadying. "Promise me that."
Kael felt his chest tighten, the words caught in his throat. He nodded. "I'll stay close."
For the first time, she didn't let go right away. Only after a long moment did she release his hand, whispering, "Good. Then maybe I won't have to worry so much."
---
The next morning, Jorin led the class through a shimmering gate until the world shifted around them. They emerged into a hollow expanse where endless trees stretched skyward, stripped of life. Their bark was deep red and brown, their branches twisted like skeletal arms. No leaves, no grass — just brittle soil and the sharp scent of dust.
"The Red-Scaled Skybeasts live here," Jorin's voice carried over the group. He pointed upward, where shadows flitted between the branches. "They are predators of the air. They strike from above with sharp talons and stone-like feathers. If they lift off, you will struggle to hit them. But when grounded—" his eyes narrowed—"they are slow, clumsy even. That is your chance to attack."
The students craned their necks. Above, something shifted — a flash of crimson among the branches. The air rippled with the beating of wings.
"There," Jorin said. His finger tracked the movement until a red-scaled bird beast burst from the canopy. Its wings spanned wider than two men, feathers glinting like shards of stone. The students instinctively stepped back.
"Feyla," Jorin commanded, his tone sharp but calm.
Her heart leapt, but she stepped forward. Water shimmered into her hands, condensing into a thin stream before she thrust it upward. The blast caught the beast mid-dive, drenching its scales. With its wings soaked, the skybeast faltered, crashing hard into the dead soil.
"Now," Jorin barked.
Feyla rushed forward, her weapon forming in her grip. The water-shaft shimmered with liquid steel, and with a fierce cry she drove it down into the beast's chest. The creature screeched once, wings flailing, before collapsing still.
The class stared in stunned silence. Some whispered in awe, others in fear.
Feyla stood over the fallen beast, chest rising with controlled breaths. She glanced back toward Kael for just a second. He caught the look — not pride, not arrogance, but relief. Relief that it hadn't been him lying broken on the ground.