Chapter 16: Night
Night claimed the forest with quiet certainty. Shadows pressed around their small clearing, the warm campfire glow their only defence against the darkness.
Kurtz stirred the mushroom soup, his wooden spoon scraping against metal in a rhythm that had grown comforting over the past hour. The earthy aroma mixed with woodsmoke, creating something that felt almost like home, if he'd ever had one that smelled this good.
Serie sat cross-legged nearby, close enough that firelight drove the mosquitoes away but far enough to maintain her usual distance. With the insects banished, she'd finally pushed back her white veil.
Her golden hair caught the dancing flames, each strand holding its own light. Behind her stood a small tent, barely large enough for one person, a practical necessity that suddenly complicated everything.
"Here." Kurtz ladled soup into a wooden bowl, steam rising in delicate spirals. "Try it."
Serie accepted the bowl and immediately pressed it to her lips. The scalding liquid hit her tongue.
"Ahh! It burns!" She jerked back, tongue darting out as she gasped.
"Careful, it's hot. Blow on it first. Like this—phoo, phoo." Urgency crept into his voice.
'Has this woman never had soup before? '
The thought struck him as absurd until he remembered her diet. How does someone live for decades without learning something so basic?
Serie pursed her lips and blew gently across the surface. Steam scattered. She tried again, taking only a small sip this time. Her eyes widened.
"It's... delicious."
Simple words, but her tone, genuine surprise mixed with wonder, sent warmth through his chest that had nothing to do with the fire.
Kurtz served himself, settling back as the warm broth filled his stomach. "What do you elves usually eat?"
"Various natural fruits." Serie blew on another spoonful, more carefully now.
"Sometimes we mix them with edible plants. Unlike you, always creating these..."
She paused, frowning. The word 'strange' had balanced on her tongue, but it felt wrong now. How could something this good deserve such a label?
"Human delicacies?" Kurtz supplied with a grin.
The elves really did live rough lives. If he survived on raw fruit and leaves, he'd probably collapse within a day. No wonder she looked so thin.
Serie didn't argue. Instead, she asked, "Do all humans live like this?"
"More or less. Though I might stand out among humans, they can't make food nearly as delicious as I can."
He wasn't entirely boasting. Human living standards in this era barely surpassed those of a thousand years before the common era. Even a carelessly prepared meat patty would count as fine dining here. His modern cooking knowledge crushed the bland fare of this primitive age.
"Standing out too?"
Something in Serie's small smile made him study her more carefully, but her expression had already shifted to that familiar, distant mask.
A gentle breeze stirred the flames, sending shadows dancing across their faces. The forest rustled with quiet night sounds, an owl called distantly, and small creatures scurried through the underbrush.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Serie's voice cut through the comfortable silence. "Kurtz, why do you want to teach humans magic?"
His hand froze on the rim of the bowl. The question he'd expected, dreaded, and hoped for all at once.
"I refuse to let them remain weak."
In this world, every race hoarded its magical techniques jealously. Elves taught only to other elves, demons guarded their secrets, and even human tribes rarely shared their knowledge with outsiders.
Pure luck had brought him Serie, making his invented magic intriguing enough to trade instructions.
Without that stroke of fortune, humans might remain magically ignorant for centuries more.
"Learning magic demands everything you have."
Serie's words carried the weight of experience. She wasn't trying to discourage him; he could hear that, but she needed him to grasp reality.
Even elves, born with magical talent, didn't all become powerful mages. Many eventually abandoned magic for more physical pursuits, like the warrior-monks he'd heard stories about.
"It doesn't matter. Miracles will always happen." He met her eyes across the fire. "For intelligent races, miracles will surely come."
"Wisdom and miracles?" Serie tilted her head, golden eyes reflecting flames as she weighed his words.
"So believe in miracles, and believe in humanity, Serie."
Something in his tone made her study his face more intently. Certainty radiated from him that seemed to spring from somewhere deeper than hope or faith.
She could understand his confidence, which came naturally enough. But this felt different, as if he'd already witnessed proof of what he claimed.
"You show remarkable confidence in your kind."
"Of course." No hesitation, no doubt colored his words.
"Their lives burn short, fragile, and small, but this limited existence makes them treasure every moment. They pour themselves into their brief lives completely, leaving their achievements to future generations. A cycle that will eventually forge a glorious civilisation."
"You speak as if you've already witnessed it."
Kurtz's laughter rang across the clearing, startling a nightbird from its perch. "That's right, I've seen it in my dreams."
After Serie finished her soup, Kurtz collected the bowls and utensils. The routine of cleaning up felt strangely domestic, normal in a way that contrasted with their bizarre circumstances.
"You can use the tent now. I'll keep watch a while longer."
Sleep had never come easily to him, not even in this world. In his previous life, countless distractions had filled his evening hours.
Here, his sole entertainment consisted of staring into the hypnotic dance of flames and listening to the forest's night symphony.
Serie approached the tent with visible curiosity, peering into the dark interior. A soft glow bloomed from within as she cast a small light spell.
The space was cramped, with everything tightly packed together, barely fitting one person. However, something about the enclosed walls and the soft blanket spread across the ground created an unexpected sense of security.
She settled onto the blanket, pulling it up to her chin. The warmth pleased her, the enclosed space oddly comforting. But restlessness stirred in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling of... what? Concern? Guilt?
Before she could analyse it, she found herself crawling back to the tent's entrance.
"What about you tonight?"
"Don't leave such a big gap!" Kurtz's voice carried sharp urgency. "Mosquitoes will swarm in!"
If even a few of those bloodsucking pests invaded the warm tent, her comfortable shelter would become a buzzing hell. Serie quickly pulled the flap mostly closed, leaving only enough space for her head.
"Aren't you coming in?"
"It would squeeze us together pretty badly."
Hesitation colored his voice. When he'd built this shelter, he'd planned for solo use.
He wasn't superhuman; carrying a larger tent would have proven impractical. Everything had been designed for efficiency over comfort.
"It's fine. I don't mind."
Her calm expression revealed nothing beyond practical concern for her travelling companion. Nothing more than ensuring they both get adequate rest.
"Alright."
After banking the fire to glowing coals, Kurtz crawled into the confined space. The tent's limitations struck him immediately; they pressed directly against each other, sharing warmth and breathing the same close air.
He inhaled the natural fragrance that clung to her hair and skin, something like the scent of forest flowers and fresh earth.
The proximity distracted him completely. If he lifted his hand just slightly, he could embrace her. The thought crept in unbidden, dangerous and tempting.
Should he try?
The rational part of his mind screamed warnings about overstepping boundaries, about destroying whatever tentative trust they'd built. But another part, the part that had grown stronger during their travels, whispered that some opportunities only came once.
Tentatively, carefully, he reached out and drew her closer. Her warmth pressed against him, solid and real.
Serie frowned immediately. "What are you doing? It's cramped enough already."
"I felt a bit cold." The excuse sounded weak even to his ears.
"Are you?" She sounded genuinely puzzled. The night wasn't particularly harsh, and it certainly wasn't cold enough to warrant such measures. "It's too cramped like this. Very uncomfortable."
The practical rejection stung, but at least she didn't sound angry. That had to count for something.
Kurtz reluctantly withdrew his arm, settling back into his narrow portion of the tent. Progress came in small steps, after all.
Serie's golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, reflecting what little light filtered through the tent fabric. "Humans are truly strange creatures."
She turned away, presenting him with her back and the cascade of golden hair across the blanket. "Now you won't feel cold. Just don't crowd me too much."
Kurtz smiled into the darkness as Serie's breathing gradually fell into the rhythm of sleep.
Her presence beside him, the shared warmth, the quiet intimacy of their small shelter.
Somehow, this adventure was exceeding every expectation he'd had.
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