JP hadn't expected Lyra to invite him to share a quiet dinner. They sat just outside the village, far enough from prying eyes that she could relax her hood. The crackling fire between them cast long shadows, the smell of roasted rabbit filling the air.
At first, they ate in silence. JP was content to let the night speak for itself, but Lyra's hands tightened on her skewer. Finally, she broke the stillness.
"My people… we aren't safe in lands like these," she said softly. Her silver eyes reflected the firelight. "Elves are hunted, sold, or worse. That's why I wear this disguise. If anyone knew what I was…"
JP blinked, startled. He had suspected something, but hearing her say it out loud hit harder than he'd expected. "You mean you've been hiding this from the guild? From everyone?"
Lyra nodded, her gaze hardening. "The guild doesn't protect people like me. They'd turn me in if they thought they could profit. I've seen it happen."
A silence stretched again, heavier this time. JP set down his food, his mind spinning. She had lived her life in fear, never able to reveal her true self. And yet, she had risked herself countless times to help him.
"You've carried this alone," JP said finally, his voice steady. "But you're right about one thing—I have secrets too. My inventions, my skills… they aren't normal. But if I can trust you, then you can trust me."
Lyra's eyes widened slightly. Then, for the first time since JP had met her, her lips curved in the smallest, most fragile smile. "You're a fool to trust so easily. But… thank you."
The fire crackled between them, casting warmth not only against the chill of night but into the unspoken bond they had just forged. For JP, the world felt a little less lonely. For Lyra, perhaps a little less dangerous.