I don't know what's gotten into Talon, but over the past few days, he's been taking Lina, Lyca, and Lira with him on his flights.
I'm not sure if he's punishing me—or protecting me, just like he warned. Either way, I'm alone again.
Where do these birds go every day? What is so important that the entire kingdom empties out, leaving nothing but wind, sky, and silence behind?
So I fall back into routine.
Cleaning.
Picking up feathers.
Soaking in the stream.
Tidying my little nook.
I start weaving something new—tall grass, thin dry vines, flowers, fallen feathers. I don't even know what it's supposed to be. A blanket, maybe. Or just proof that time is still moving.
As I sit there binding and knotting, my gaze keeps drifting toward Aron.
It's just him and me now.
Will he talk if I speak to him?
I stand and slowly walk around him. He doesn't move. Not even a twitch. I sit nearby and continue weaving, humming softly—still nothing.
So I talk.
"Hi," I say quietly. "I'm Sienna."
My voice echoes a little in the open aerie.
"I hope you don't mind me sitting here. Since it's only the two of us, I thought… I might as well talk to you. You don't have to respond. You don't even have to listen."
I glance at him.
He looks like stone. Like he might've turned into part of the mountain itself.
I feel an odd urge to reach out and touch him. The harpies said he lost his will to live—brokenhearted. I understand that feeling too well. I've felt lost since I arrived in this world, but giving up was never an option for me.
If you're still alive, it means your purpose isn't finished yet.
"You know," I continue softly, "I don't even know why I'm here. I'm not from this world. And yet… I've met so many good, loving beings. Even the ones who look terrifying or act cruel—they're not so bad once you get to know them."
I exhale, realizing I'm really talking to a rock.
Rock bottom, Sienna.
I giggle at the thought—and then, suddenly, I'm crying.
I tell him everything.
About Gideon.
About Juno and Theo.
About Mariner's Bay—the children, Rocco, and Chance.
I laugh. I break. I cry again.
He doesn't move.
When the sun sets, I return to my nook. Talon and the birds come back later. I greet them, even if they don't return it. I'm used to that now. At least the three harpies acknowledge me.
The night sky here is breathtaking. Stars scatter across the heavens, and nocturnal birds fill the mountains with song.
In the morning, wildflowers bloom wherever I run. I lie among them, letting their scent cling to me. Then I sit beside Aron again and talk—about my world, my life, everything I miss.
Still nothing.
My patience thins.
I inch closer. Slowly. Carefully.
When I'm close enough, I reach out and touch him.
Warm.
I stroke his back. He doesn't react, so I lean against him. The harpies weren't lying—he's incredibly comfortable. Solid. Safe.
He reminds me of Gideon's warmth.
"Thank you for letting me stay like this," I murmur. "I promise I won't do anything unnecessary. I'll cherish your trust."
I rub my cheek lightly against him.
He's like a giant, living stuffed animal—only very real, very solid.
I fall asleep there.
When I wake, the sky has dimmed. The birds still haven't returned.
That's strange.
"Aron," I whisper, unease creeping in. "Do you know why they're not back yet?"
Of course, there's no answer.
Even though they treat me like nothing, I worry about them. The silence makes my chest ache. Not knowing is worse than anything. I waited.
As it gets dark, I decided to go back to my nook, and wait there. I fell asleep waiting, but as the crack of dawn came, there was no sign of the birds anywhere.
I got up, stretched, and then I ate some of the fruit I saved from Talon. I decided to hang out with Aron, so I took some fruit with me to share. I place it close to him. Then I gather flowers—too many flowers.
Bees chase me until I reach him, then scatter.
I spread the blooms around him, their scent filling the air.
"I hope you like flowers," I say softly. "They smell good. Maybe they'll make you feel better."
I lean against him again.
"The harpies said you lost your will to live," I continue. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what you lost… but I know someone out there must miss you. Talon does. Your people probably do too."
I pet him gently, rubbing my face against his back.
Then—
He moves.
In a blur, I'm beneath him. His presence is overwhelming. He's breathtaking— hair dark as ebony, eyes soft, deep, full of pain barely held back. Pain that feels ancient.
I don't feel fear.
Only compassion.
I cup his face, stroking his cheek, meeting his gaze with nothing but mercy. In that moment, our losses feel eerily similar—two souls stranded, confused, alone.
"What makes you think I want your comfort?" he asks quietly. "You're not like the harpies. Why are you so ardent on easing my pain? You don't even know me."
I don't know what comes over me.
I open my arms and pull him into a hug.
A real one.
Warm. Genuine. Human.
"I don't need to know everything about you," I whisper. "I just know you're hurting."
I hold him—I wanted him to use me, if it meant it would heal him.