Mira hummed in response to his answer she wasn't quite sure either after all when she was Kai's age she was already on the run. The hearth fire roared with a sudden gust of wind through the cottage's chinks, casting flickering light across the two of them as Kai set the pot on the hook. Mira watched him move with the ease of familiarity, how he handled the things she'd taught him—salt, water, patience. His hands, once so small, now nearly as capable as hers.
"You'll figure it out," she murmured, stirring the pot as steam began to rise. Kai leaned against the counter beside her, arms crossed. "How do you know?" His question was quiet, but there was an edge to it—a challenge wrapped in uncertainty.
Mira glanced at him, her dark eyes reflecting the firelight. "Because you haven't died yet, and you're still asking questions," she replied, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. Kai barked out a laugh, surprised by the bluntness. "Fair point."
He watched her work for a moment, the way she moved with such fluid confidence despite the circumstances. "Do you ever think about—" He cut himself off abruptly, glancing away.
"What?" Mira prompted, stirring the pot with one hand while reaching for a wooden spoon with the other. Kai hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Do you ever think about what we're running from? Not just right now, but... before. The things that made us leave everything behind."
"No. I think about surviving until tomorrow." The words hang between them like smoke. Kai exhales, shoulders slumping slightly. "That's not an answer."
Mira sets the spoon down with deliberate care. "It's the only one that matters." She turns to him fully, the firelight painting half her face in gold. "We're here. Now. That's what counts."
Kai shakes his head, his green eyes locked onto hers. "But you've lived so much longer than me. You've seen so much. I just—" He stops, frustration flickering across his features. "I want to understand you. Why you do what you do. Why you carry this." He gestures vaguely at her entire self. "You don't talk about it." Mira sighed, "Kai. One day I'll tell you everything but for right now I want to cook a delicious meal with the delicious fish you caught. Can we do that?"
Kai lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. But you're not getting out of this conversation forever."
Mira moves to a shelf, selecting herbs with precise fingers. "I know. Just not today." She crushes the herbs between her palms, releasing their fragrance into the air. "Can you get the bread? It's cooling by the window."
Kai nods, moving to fetch it. As he passes the table, his fingers brush over the edge, unconsciously tracing the grooves in the wood. This moment—this home—feels so fragile sometimes. Like a house of cards that could come tumbling down with the wrong gust of wind.
Kai set the bread on the table, his fingers stilling as he remembered the texture of the wood under his skin. The cottage was warm now, filled with the scents of cooking fish and fresh herbs. Mira hummed softly as she worked, her movements steady and sure. He watched her for a moment, the way her dark hair fell across her face as she bent over the pot, the way her shoulders moved under her shirt when she stirred.
"So what now?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Now we eat." Mira turned from the hearth, wiping her hands on her apron. "Then what?" Kai pressed, knowing he shouldn't but unable to help himself.
"We'll take it day by day." Mira turns back to the fire, adjusting the heat. "That's what we've always done. It's worked so far." Kai lets out a slow breath. He wants to argue, to push for more certainty, but he knows Mira well enough to understand that this is as much as she'll give him right now. He leans against the counter, watching her work.
"You know, sometimes I think you'd survive if the world ended. That you'd just find a way to keep going." Mira glances at him over her shoulder, her dark eyes unreadable. "And sometimes I think you underestimate yourself." She adds salt to the pot, the granules disappearing into the simmering water.
"Maybe I do," Kai admits, watching the steam curl upward. "But that's why I have you." Mira turns fully to face him, her expression softening slightly. "And I have you."
The words hang between them, simple and profound. Kai feels his shoulders relax, the tightness in his chest easing just a fraction. He steps closer, the heat from the hearth warming his back. "Thank you for saying that."
"Why wouldn't I?" Mira asks, but there's a softness in her voice that wasn't there before. She turns back to the pot, but not before Kai catches the way her fingers tighten around the spoon for just a moment. The meal was simple but hearty—steamed fish seasoned with herbs, crisp bread torn into pieces, and wild mushrooms that Kai had found during his morning walk. They ate at the small wooden table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the walls. The silence between them was comfortable now, filled with the sounds of eating and the occasional crackle of the fire.
After dinner, Mira cleared the table while Kai washed the dishes in a basin of warm water. Steam rose around his hands as he scrubbed the plates clean, his movements practiced and careful.
"We should check the perimeter," he said, glancing toward the window where the last remnants of daylight were fading. Mira dried her hands on a towel, her expression thoughtful. "I'll do it, you go get some rest. If you're to marry a pretty girl one day you need to get your beauty sleep."
Kai snorted, shaking his head. "You're impossible." But he didn't argue, knowing she wouldn't let him anyway. He dried his hands and stepped closer, his presence making the small kitchen feel even smaller.
"You're going to be careful, right?" His eyes search her face, the concern in them unmistakable. Mira's expression softens, and she reaches up to tug gently at the collar of his shirt. "Always." She says it with such certainty that he almost believes her. Almost. He catches her wrist, his fingers warm against her skin. "Promise me." His thumb brushes over the inside of her wrist, a familiar gesture between them.
Mira meets his gaze, steady and dark. "I promise." She speaks quietly, but with a weight that makes the words land like a stone in still water.
Kai exhales, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. He holds her wrist for another beat, then releases it. "Good." He turns away, toward the small bedroom at the back of the cottage. At the doorway, he pauses. "Mira?" She's already moving toward the front door, her boots in hand.
"Yeah?" He speaks softly. "Come back soon." She doesn't turn around, but he sees the curve of her smile in the firelight. "Always do."
Mira grabbed her cloak before stepping out the summer heat dissipating slowly, she gazed at the horizon the sun was rapidly setting and for one still moment she sent a silent prayer up into the clouds. The night air was cool against her skin as she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. She moved silently down the path leading away from the cottage, her boots making almost no sound against the dirt. The trees loomed darkly around her, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. She took a deep breath, focusing on the sounds of the forest—the distant call of an owl, the rustling of small animals in the underbrush, the faint creak of a tree branch bending under its own weight. Everything seemed normal. Calm. But she had learned long ago that normal was just a moment before things went wrong.
They lived deep in the forest, hidden thanks to her magic but still there could always be a chance unwanted visitors could manage slip past her magic. The first perimeter check passed without incident. She moved through the trees with practiced ease, her steps silent, her breath controlled. The ward marks she had etched into the bark of the thickest oaks still glowed faintly with residual magic, their sigils unbroken. Good. She circled wider, her hands brushing against the rough bark as she passed. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. She paused, listening. Another call answered. Hunting. Normal. Still, she made a mental note of the direction. Wolves didn't concern her—humans did.
The second perimeter was more remote, closer to the small stream that fed into the river. Here, the trees thinned slightly, moonlight filtering through their canopy. Here, the trees thinned slightly, moonlight filtering through their canopy. She crouched near a boulder, her fingers tracing the moss growing along its surface. If anyone had disturbed the ground here, the moss would have changed—its growth pattern disrupted. It was undisturbed. She leaned back against the boulder, tilting her head up to study the stars visible through the leaves. The night was quiet now, the earlier sounds of the forest settling into a steady rhythm. A breeze stirred the leaves, rustling through the undergrowth like whispers. She closed her eyes, inhaling the cool air deeply. The smell of damp earth, moss, and distant smoke lingered—woodsmoke, not campfire. Someone was burning something.
Her eyes snapped open. "Shit." She mumbled under her breath, she pulled her cloak higher she followed the scent it was faint but still she needed to investigate.
She moved with renewed purpose, her earlier casual demeanor replaced by the alert stillness of a hunter. The scent was stronger now, and there was something else—a metallic tang beneath it. Blood. She slowed, pressing herself against the trunk of a thick oak. Up ahead, firelight flickered between the trees. Voices drifted toward her—low, urgent. She couldn't make out the words yet, but there were at least two people. Maybe three. She crept forward, each movement careful, silent. The forest floor was soft here, the pine needles cushioning her steps. As she neared, she spotted the glow of a campfire through the undergrowth.
She peered through the undergrowth she stilled recognizing the emblem. Capitol knights. The knights were dressed in their distinctive white and gold armor, the sigil of the Empire emblazoned across their chestplates. Two stood near the fire, their expressions tense, while a third knelt over something—or someone—lurking in the shadows beyond the firelight. One of the standing knights gestured sharply, and the kneeling one rose, wiping his hands on a cloth. Blood stained the fabric dark.
The wind shifted, carrying words to her ears. "...still alive, but barely." The kneeling knight's words were rough with exhaustion. "We need to finish this." The other knight nodded grimly. "Then we move. This forest is too thick. Too many places for the other one to hide."
Mira listened intently her quiet fears roared to life they would be moving within the forest? Not good.
Mira watched the knights through the undergrowth, their words sending a chill through her. The third knight stepped into the firelight, and her breath caught—he was dragging a body by the ankles. The figure was small, wrapped in dark clothing. Too small to be Kai. But the way they moved suggested something was very wrong.
One of the standing knights glanced around the clearing nervously. "We should burn this one too. No witnesses." The kneeling knight nodded, already moving toward the fire with an armful of wood. "Agreed. The girl knows too much anyway."
Mira's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. The girl. They were talking about someone else. She was young younger than Kai. She heard the girl scream, Mira clenched her eyes shut. Don't get involved.
You could save her. The voice in her head wasn't hers—it was Kai's, that persistent little voice that always made her reconsider her choices. She opened her eyes, watching as the knights prepared to throw more wood on the fire. The girl's scream cut off abruptly, replaced by a wet, choking sound that made Mira's stomach turn. She couldn't just stand here and watch them kill someone. Even if it wasn't Kai, even if it meant breaking her own rules. She reached into her cloak and gripped the handle of her dagger. The metal felt cool against her palm. One chance. One mistake and they'll come for both of you. She hesitated, pulling away no. I'll strengthen the barrier.
Mira paused her blood ran cold, she decided turned silently, melting back into the shadows, her heart hammering against her ribs. She couldn't afford to think about the girl anymore, couldn't let herself wonder what would happen next. That wasn't her problem. It couldn't be. She focused on the path home, moving swiftly and carefully through the trees. The firelight faded behind her, but the screams lingered in her mind. You should have helped her. The thought came unbidden as she reached the thicker part of the forest. She paused, pressing her back against a wide oak, breathing deeply to steady herself. The smoke grew fainter as the wind shifted. They were burning her now.
She scrubbed at her nose trying her best to erase the scent, she chanted a spell under her breath. She focused on reinforcing the barrier if the knights were hunting within the forest she needed to keep them hidden.
"Mira?" Kai's voice floated through the darkness as she approached the cottage, his silhouette framed in the doorway. She paused at the threshold, her boots scraping against the stone step. The smoke still clung to her clothes, burning her nostrils every time she inhaled. Kai's eyes searched her face in the dim lantern light, his expression shifting as he took in her rigid posture. "You're back early." His voice was careful, quiet. He stepped aside to let her in, his gaze never leaving her face. "And you're... you're shaking." The words were soft, gentle, as he reached toward her shoulder.
Mira shook her head, brushing past him into the cottage. "It was colder than I expected. What are you still doing up?"
Kai closed the door behind her, the latch clicking softly. He followed her deeper into the cottage, his gaze flickering to the dark smudges along her sleeves—dirt, or maybe ash. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted, folding his arms across his chest. "Too quiet." He paused, then added, "And I was waiting for you."
Mira didn't turn around immediately. She stood near the hearth, her back to him, staring into the embers as if searching for something. Kai noticed how she kept clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides.
"Mira?" he pressed, stepping closer. "What happened out there?" Mira turned to face him, "Oh, I got chased by some wolves got a little too close." She chuckled removing her cloak, "I'm going to take a bath."
Kai watched her move toward the small basin in the corner where she kept a tub for washing. She pulled the curtain around it, the fabric whispering as it closed. He stood there for a long moment, torn between letting her have the privacy she clearly wanted and the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. He stepped closer, pressing his ear against the curtain. The water sloshed as she filled it from the bucket. Then, quiet. Too quiet. "Mira?" He kept his words low, but firm. "You okay?" There was a pause.
"Just washing up," she replied, but her voice sounded strained. Kai frowned. He had spent enough time with her to recognize when she was hiding something.
"Mira," he said again, his fingers curling into the fabric of the curtain. "You're not telling me something." The water stilled. Then, after a long moment, she sighed. "There were knights in the forest." The words were quiet, but Kai heard them clearly. His breath caught. "What?" "I saw them," she continued, her words muffled slightly as she worked. "They were... They had someone with them." Kai's hands dropped from the curtain. "Are they coming here?" His voice was tight, controlled.
"No," Mira answered, too quickly. "No, they're not coming here." But there was something in her tone that made him narrow his eyes. "Mira." Kai said her name like an invocation, a demand. The curtain fluttered as he shifted his weight. "What aren't you telling me?"
She hesitated, hands submerged in the water, fingers curling against her palms. The heat of the bath was doing nothing to ease the cold inside her. "They were... they were hunting someone," she finally said. "The girl with them, she was already hurt. Badly." She closed her eyes, but the image wouldn't leave her—the way the knight had dragged the body, the girl's ragged breathing.
Kai went very still. "Did you—" He stopped, swallowed hard. "Did you help her?"
Mira lied through her teeth, "Of course. L-Let me finish and we'll talk more about it." Kai moved away from the curtain leaving Mira with some privacy, Once she heard his footsteps receding she took a deep breath.
She scrubbed her body cleaned and quickly washed her hair. The hot water did little to ease the tension in her shoulders as she scrubbed the traces of ash and pine needles from her skin. Each stroke of the cloth reminded her of the girl's scream cutting through the forest night, the wet sound of choking, the crackle of flames consuming flesh and bone. She closed her eyes, but the image of the knights standing around their fire persisted, their voices carrying on the wind like a taunt. When she finally emerged from behind the curtain, Kai was sitting at the small table, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the wooden surface. His expression was unreadable, but the way his jaw clenched betrayed his tension.
"Kai? Look I know you have a lot of questions." He raised his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "I do." He waited a beat, then asked, "Did you leave her there?"
Mira's breath caught. She stood at the edge of the firelight, steam still clinging to her damp skin, the edges of her shirt drying in the heat. She didn't immediately answer. Instead, she reached for a towel, rubbing it over her arms as if the fabric could wipe away the memory.
"Mira," Kai said again, sharper this time. He stood, moving toward her without thinking. His hands came up, hovering near her shoulders before he pulled back, curling his fingers into fists instead. "You didn't help her." It wasn't a question. He stepped closer, and she could see the way his throat worked as he swallowed hard, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying the emotion he was trying to suppress.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. The lie had already been spoken, but now, standing before him with the truth pressing against her ribs like a physical weight, she couldn't bring herself to say it again. Kai's eyes searched hers, and she knew—he knew. He knew without her saying a word. His breath came faster now, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to control himself. "Why?" The word came out hoarse, strained.
Mira closed her eyes for a moment, as if that might shut out the sound of his question. When she opened them again, she met his gaze with something raw and unguarded. "Because I couldn't," she whispered. "Because I—" She broke off, pressing her fingers against her temples. "Because I was thinking about you. About what would happen if I got caught." Her hands dropped to her sides, curling into fists. "I left her there, Kai. I left her to burn."
Kai flinched as if she had struck him. His lips parted, but no sound came out at first. His breath came in short bursts now, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When he finally spoke, he was quiet but quavering. "You just... left her?" The words seemed to physically pain him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his knuckles white. Mira took a half-step back, her shoulder blades pressing against the cool stone of the hearth. The firelight flickered between them, darkening his face, making the lines of his body seem sharper, more defined. She couldn't look away. "I didn't know what else to do," she said, her words quiet and strained. "There were three of them, Kai. Three knights with armor and swords and—"
He looked up at her his expression pained, "Who are you? What are you?" His words struck with precision, slicing through the thick air between them.
Mira flinched, her fingers curling against the stone at her back. The firelight caught the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes, though no tears fell. She opened her mouth, then closed it, struggling to find the right words.
Kai took a slow step back stilling before racing up the stairs to his room, he slammed the door as hard as he could. The small cottage trembled from the movement leaving Mira alone in the dark. The silence that followed felt heavier than the heaviest storm. The fire crackled, its heat suddenly unbearable against Mira's damp skin. She stood there, frozen, her fingers digging into the stone behind her as if it could anchor her in place. Upstairs, Kai's door remained firmly shut. No sound came from within—no movement, no cursing, no weeping. Just silence. Just absence. The quiet was worse than if he had shouted. Worse than if he had thrown something. Worse than if he had cursed her name. This silence was the kind that settled into bones, into marrow. The kind that said everything words couldn't.
Mira shut her eyes you did the right thing. Keep him safe. Keep him alive. keep-You did what you had to do. The words repeated in her mind like a prayer, but they didn't ease the ache in her chest or the heat behind her eyelids. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes until she saw stars, then let them drop. The fire had burned down to embers, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. She could still hear Kai moving upstairs—footsteps restless, frustrated. A muffled thump suggested he'd thrown something against the wall. Another pang of guilt hit her.
She should go up. Talk to him. But the thought of facing that look in his eyes again—the hurt, the disappointment—made her stomach twist.
Instead she climbed up to her room, looking back at Kai's door she would make things right in the morning, it would be okay. Mira lay awake until the small hours, the shadows of the room shifting as the fire below died completely. She couldn't hear Kai moving anymore. The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under, but sleep was restless—haunted by fragments of the night's events. The smell of smoke lingered in her dreams, the feel of Kai's hand on her wrist before he left. She woke before dawn, the room still dark, the air heavy with lingering unease. She knew he was awake too. The creak of the floorboards above had been faint, but deliberate. Not pacing. Just... waiting.
She dressed quickly, pulling on a dark shirt and a pair of trousers. The fire in the hearth had gone out, leaving the cottage cold. She didn't bother relighting it. Instead, she walked downstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. When she reached Kai's door, she paused, her hand hovering over the handle. What was she going to say? The words had eluded her all night.
Before she could decide, the door opened. Kai stood there, half-dressed, his shirt hanging open to reveal the sharp line of his collarbones. His face was shadowed, but his eyes—they were clear, fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch. Neither of them spoke at first. Then Kai's jaw tightened. "You couldn't sleep either."
It wasn't a question. His words were rough from disuse and emotion. She shook her head, fingers still curled around the doorframe. "No." A pause. Then, softer, "Are you going to let me in?"
Kai stepped back, holding the door wider. The space between them was tense with everything unsaid. She crossed the threshold, feeling his attention like a weight. His room was small—just a narrow bed, a small chest for clothes, a single window with the shutters still closed against the pre-dawn darkness. The sheets were tangled, as if he had spent the night twisting and turning. She couldn't look at them.
She sighed her shoulders hunched, "You wanted to know who I was right?" Kai nodded once, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His posture was rigid, his shoulders squared as if bracing himself.
Mira took a slow breath. "I'm a survivor, Kai. That's what I am." She turned slightly, her profile visible in the dim light. "I do what I need to do to keep you alive. To keep us both alive."
Kai's breath caught, his fingers tightening around the fabric. "And the girl? She wasn't part of that equation?" The words were quieter now, but no less sharp.
Mira closed her eyes for a moment. "No," she admitted, the word dragged from her like something physical. "She wasn't."
"I don't just know magic Kai. I was born into an order, you could call them witches or mages whatever. But I ran away I was barely eighteen I fended for myself, earned money for myself and one day I found you. A child, close to death in an alley. I took you away I-I couldn't stand to see it! I-Look there's so much you don't know. Don't need to know-"
Kai's face drained of color, his fingers releasing the fabric of his shirt to clench into fists at his sides. The silence that followed was heavier than any words could have been. His lips parted, then closed again as if he couldn't quite form the question burning behind his eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw, torn.
"You saved me." It wasn't a question. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving her face. "All this time..." He took a step back, his shoulders hitting the wall behind him with a soft thud. "You saved me, and then you left someone else to die."
Mira's hands clenched at her sides. "Kai—" His name came out strained, but he didn't let her finish. Kai shook his head, pressing his hands flat against the wall behind him as if to keep himself upright. "I don't even know what to say to that." His words were uneven, breaking at the edges. "Do you hear yourself, Mira? You saved me, but you couldn't do the same for her?"
"I couldn't," she whispered, her words scraping against her throat. "You don't understand what it would have meant for both of us if they caught me."
"Because I wouldn't have mattered then?" Kai's hands curled into fists, pressing harder against the wall. "Because I was already safe here, and she wasn't worth the risk?"
Mira groaned as they grew further and further from resolving this conversation, they were falling deeper into the divide, the space between them yawning wider. She stepped toward him, close enough now that she could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his pupils had dilated in the dim light.
"You think I don't understand the cost?" Her words came out low, rough. "You think I don't know what I did?" She lifted a hand, but hesitated before touching him. "I see her every time I close my eyes, Kai. I hear her screaming." Her fingers flexed, curling into the air between them. "But I chose you."
Kai flinched as if struck. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his whole body tense with barely contained emotion. "Well you don't have to anymore." he spat.
Mira's breath caught. She stared at him, at the way his jaw was clenched, the way his hands had gone rigid at his sides. The words had struck her with a force she hadn't expected. For a moment, she couldn't even speak. Then, her voice came out strained, almost inaudible. "What did you say?"
Kai's eyes burned into hers, dark and unflinching. "You heard me." His words were raw, strained, but steady. "If that's what I mean to you—that I was worth leaving someone else to die—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "Then I don't want to be your reason anymore." A tremor passed through him, but he stood his ground.
Mira stared at him in shock nearly scoffing, "Let's not be dramatic now-we can resolve this." kai pushed passed her he began throwing clothes in a bag Kai moved with swift, deliberate motions. His hands shook slightly as he pulled clothes from the small chest at the foot of his bed, shoving them haphazardly into a bag. The leather creaked under the force of his grip.
Mira felt frozen in place, her fingers twitching at her sides. "Kai—" She tried again, her voice unsteady. "Stop."
He didn't. If anything, her words seemed to spur him faster. The bag was nearly full already, the straps straining. He stood abruptly, turning to face her. His eyes blazed in the dim light, dark and stormy.
"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore." His words cut through the silence like a blade. Mira's breath caught, her pulse hammering in her throat. Kai moved toward her, closing the distance with a few quick strides. She didn't back away. She couldn't. He stopped just short of her, near enough that she could feel the heat emanating from him, see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the muscles in his arms tense with the effort of restraint.
"You saved me," he said, his voice thick with emotion he was struggling to contain. "You dragged me out of that alley when I was half-dead. You took me in. You taught me how to survive." His words came out broken, uneven. "But I'm not that kid anymore, Mira. I'm not some helpless thing you need to protect." His fingers flexed, uncurling slowly. "You made a choice. And now I'm making mine."
He stepped back, putting distance between them again. The space felt vast, insurmountable. Mira opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her hands were shaking now, her whole body taut with the effort of holding herself together. Kai turned away from her, his shoulders rigid with tension. The bag hung heavy in his hand as he moved toward the door.
"So you're just going to leave? Where will you go?" She gripped his wrist, "You have no money, no connections-"
Kai stopped, his back to her. His shoulders rose and fell as he drew a sharp breath. When he spoke, his words came out hoarse but firm. "I'll figure it out."
Mira's fingers tightened around his wrist instinctively. "Kai, you can't just—"
"I can." He turned his head slightly, just enough to meet her gaze over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but there was a hardness in his eyes she had never seen before. It made her stomach twist.
"You did it once. Left your life behind. Now it's my turn."
The words hit like a slap. Mira's grip loosened, but she didn't let go.
"Kai I won't be able to protect you if something happens-" His laugh was short, bitter. "I don't need your protection." He pulled his wrist from her grasp with a sharp jerk. The loss of contact felt like a severing.
Mira stepped forward, panic rising in her chest. "You don't even know where you're going! You don't know who to trust or how to survive out there alone!"
Kai faced her fully now, his face set in a hard line. "I'll learn." He shouldered his bag, the leather strap digging into his shoulder. The motion was so final, so absolute, that Mira's breath caught. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Kai watched her, waiting for something—an argument, a reason to stay. Mira stared at him, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but no words came. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Kai shifted the bag higher on his shoulder, the leather strap creaking under the pressure. His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the worn material, his knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. The morning light filtered through the window behind him, casting his face in shadow and highlighting the rigid set of his jaw.
"Kai," she finally managed, her voice rough and strained. "You can't just walk out that door." She took a step toward him, her hand reaching out as if to stop him, but she didn't touch him. "What about the knights?" Kai's face darkened at the mention of the knights, his fingers tightening around the bag strap. "I'll avoid them." His words came out clipped, final. "And if I can't, then I'll handle it." He turned toward the door, his back rigid with resolve. "I'm not your responsibility anymore, Mira. I never was." The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken pain. He reached for the door handle, his hand shaking slightly before he steadied it.
Mira watched him, her chest tight with panic. "Kai, wait." She moved closer, her footsteps echoing in the small room. "There has to be another way. We can talk about this. We can—" Her words died as Kai opened the door, the morning light spilling into the room. He stood silhouetted in the doorway, his shoulders squared, his bag heavy against his back. For a long moment, he didn't move. Then, without turning around, he spoke.
"You had your chance to explain last night. You chose your silence." His voice was quiet, but it carried the finality of a funeral bell. "I can't stay here knowing what you did." The words settled between them like stones. Kai stepped across the threshold, his boots landing on the wooden porch with a soft thud. The morning air was cool, carrying the smell of damp earth and early dew.