Shiba woke to the song of birds.
For a moment, she thought it was a dream. The warmth of the morning sun against her face, the smell of dew on leaves, the hush of a breeze moving through the forest. It was too calm, too gentle, after a night filled with screaming. But when she tried to move, pain struck her ribs like a hammer, and the dream shattered.
She opened her eyes slowly. The canopy above spilled golden light through green leaves. Aiko sat nearby, cross-legged on the grass, humming as she wove a crown of clover with nimble fingers. Her hair glowed where the sunlight touched it, her expression soft, almost playful.
"Aiko…" Shiba's throat was raw, her voice broken.
Her sister turned, beaming. "Finally! I thought you were never going to wake up." She lifted the clover crown and placed it carefully on Shiba's head. "See? It suits you."
Shiba froze, staring at her. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure you look less scary," Aiko said with a grin. "You're always frowning. Even when you sleep."
For a long moment Shiba could only stare. The smoke, the fire, their family's blood — all of it screamed in her memory. And yet Aiko smiled like a child playing in the woods.
"You…" Shiba's voice faltered. She wanted to ask — Don't you remember? Don't you know what you did? But her tongue refused the words. "You don't understand, do you? Our home is gone. They're all—" She stopped herself.
Aiko's smile wavered for just a heartbeat, then she looked back at her clover chain. "I… don't remember much," she admitted softly. "It's strange. Last night is all a blur. I know something terrible happened, but every time I try to think about it, my head hurts. So I thought… maybe it's better not to think at all."
Shiba's stomach twisted. Aiko's hands were steady, her voice calm, but her eyes darted away like a child caught in a lie. Or maybe she truly didn't remember. Shiba didn't know which answer scared her more.
"Do you remember how I got here?" she asked carefully.
Aiko shook her head, the motion quick, careless. "No. I just… woke up too. And you were here. That's what matters, right? We're together." She reached for Shiba's hand, squeezing it lightly. "That's enough for me."
Shiba swallowed hard. She wanted to push, to demand the truth. She wanted to scream: I saw the arrows. I saw the shadows. Was it you? But the words died in her chest. She had no proof, only the blur of fading consciousness and the fear of what she might uncover if she forced her sister to speak.
Instead she drew in a slow breath and said: "Then listen to me. We can't stay. Aurelys is finished. We have to leave the kingdom before it swallows us too."
Aiko tilted her head, lips pursed as if in thought. "Leave? Just… run?"
"Yes." Shiba's tone was iron, the command of a knight who had already chosen. "Off the roads. No towns, no names. We survive in the shadows. If they find us, they'll kill us. If they learn who we are, they'll do worse."
For a moment, Aiko's expression clouded, a flicker of something fragile behind her eyes. But then she smiled again, too bright, too light. "If that's what you want, I'll follow you."
Shiba looked at her for a long time, the knot in her chest tightening. She wanted to believe her sister's cheer was real — that Aiko was still untouched by the nightmare. But the truth gnawed at her: either Aiko was lying, or she was broken.
The day was long, the forest endless.
They moved silently, skirting game trails, stepping where roots muffled their weight. Shiba led with her hand on the hilt of her sword, her gaze sweeping every shadow. Aiko trailed close behind, humming now and then, pointing out wildflowers or squirrels as if they were on some childish adventure. Shiba silenced her each time, her voice sharp. But the humming always returned, soft as a breeze.
By the time the sun began to sink, both sisters were worn, though Aiko hid it beneath a smile. Shiba pressed on, forcing herself to ignore the ache in her ribs.
And then they saw him.
At the edge of the woods, leaning against a tree half-draped in shadow, stood a man. His clothes were light, the sort of fabric worn by wanderers. A staff rested casually at his side, a pack slung across his shoulder. He looked up as though he'd been waiting, and his mouth curled into an easy grin.
"Well now," he said, his voice warm, playful. "I didn't expect company this deep in the woods."
Shiba stiffened instantly, her hand snapping to her sword. "Who are you?"
The man raised both palms in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Just a traveler. Relax. If I meant you harm, I wouldn't be standing here smiling, would I?"
Aiko peered around her sister, eyes curious. "Where are you going?"
"Out," the man said with a shrug. "Out of Aurelys. This land's bleeding, and I don't care to get caught in it. Better to move on."
Shiba's suspicion sharpened. He spoke as though the rebellion were a rumor, not a storm consuming the kingdom. Either he was lying, or he truly didn't know. "You don't understand what's happening," she said coldly.
"Maybe not," the traveler admitted, "but I know enough to leave before the walls fall." He tilted his head, studying them with easy interest. "You're leaving too, aren't you?"
Shiba didn't answer, but Aiko stepped forward, her smile unguarded. "He must be from far away. That's why he doesn't know."
Shiba shot her a glare, but Aiko only shrugged as if it didn't matter.
The man laughed softly. "Foreign or not, it seems we share the same road. If it eases your minds, we walk together only as long as you allow. The world is dangerous, and I'd rather not face it alone."
Silence hung for a moment. Shiba's instincts screamed to refuse, but Aiko's eyes shone with cautious hope, and the truth gnawed at her: two girls alone would not survive long.
At last, Shiba lowered her hand from the hilt. "For a time," she said. "Nothing more."
"Good enough," the man replied, his grin softening into something almost kind. "Then may fortune walk with us."
And so they moved on, the three of them slipping deeper into the twilight, bound by suspicion, secrecy, and the fragile hope that the road ahead would not break them before they found its end.