The moment of parting arrived almost without them realizing it.
Lucy gently took Sigi's hand, already absorbed by the bustling streets stretching out before them. A knowing glance, a brief smile, and they walked off toward the central districts, their silhouettes quickly swallowed up by the crowd and the overhanging vegetation.
Raven remained motionless for a second too long.
"See you tonight?" Lucy called over his shoulder.
"Of course," Raven replied.
Then it was just the two of them.
Ivar inhaled slowly, as if assessing the space around them.
"Do we keep going straight or do we deliberately get lost?" Raven smiled slightly.
"Get lost, obviously. New cities are more honest when you don't follow the planned paths."
"I like that way of thinking." They stepped onto a still-young footbridge, its pale fibers creaking softly beneath their feet. Nothing here bore a trace of the past. No scars, no ancient remnants. Everything was raw, almost innocent.
"It's strange," Raven said after a moment. "I have the feeling the city… is listening."
"It's learning," Ivar corrected.
"Do you make a distinction?"
"Always."
She looked at him, intrigued.
"You speak like someone who's seen cities die."
"I've seen some that never had the chance to be born."
This time, she didn't look away.
"You're not as closed-minded as you pretend."
"And you, you observe more than you say."
A point each.
The morning stretched out at the pace of their steps. They crossed areas still forming, where the plant structures seemed to waver between several shapes. Raven often stopped, fascinated.
"Magic isn't stable here," she murmured.
"That's normal. It hasn't yet been shaped by humans."
"Or by their mistakes." Ivar nodded.
"You feel a lot for someone who doesn't impose anything."
"Because I don't need to. Sometimes just watching is enough." She closed her eyes, letting a trickle of magic flow out, barely perceptible. The nearby fibers trembled, reacted, then calmed.
"See? No ancient spell. Just... a conversation."
"You're talking to a city that doesn't yet know how to answer."
"And yet it's trying." Ivar stared at her for a moment, then smiled openly.
"You're dangerous, you know that?" "Only for things that refuse to evolve."
They continued on their way, closer than before, without having intended it.
In the afternoon, the wind picked up. They reached a clearing, from which Vyrheim spread out like a growing organism. Tiny, living inhabitants moved about below.
"Do you want to test something?" Raven asked.
"As long as you don't bring down half the city."
"I'm offended."
She stepped forward, placed her palm against a still unstable structure. This time, her magic manifested more clearly. A soft, controlled light. Matter strengthened, adapted.
Then the structure vibrated too strongly.
"Raven, slow down." Ivar placed his hand on her forearm. Not to stop her. To guide her.
"Breathe." You don't have to go any further.
"I know... but she's calling."
"Not everything needs to be answered right away." She inhaled, adjusting her breath. The vibration died away.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. And FYI... you were almost right."
"Almost?"
"Yeah. The city doesn't listen. It imitates."
She smiled, a little out of breath.
"Are you sure you're just a superhuman?"
He met her gaze.
"More sure than you think."
There was a silence. Not uncomfortable. Heavy.
Night fell on Vyrheim, calm, almost gentle. Raven stayed awake for a long time, thinking about Ivar's hand on her arm, about how he had spoken without hiding behind vague phrases.
The second day was different. More fluid. Simpler.
They talked more. About who they used to be. About who they refused to become.
"You're very controlling," Raven said, walking.
"I've learned that not doing so comes at a high price."
"What if you let yourself go just once?"
"Would you be willing to accept what that entails?"
She didn't answer right away.
"Maybe."
Later, she showed him another facet of her magic. Not spectacular. Precise. Elegant. A subtle manipulation of energy flows, almost invisible.
"Impressive," Ivar admitted.
"I don't like unnecessary displays."
"We're in the same boat." Their shoulders brushed. Neither of them moved away.
When night fell, they sat for a long time talking on a raised platform. Words became less frequent. The silences longer. Nothing was said. Everything was understood.
The third day arrived with a clear sky and a steady wind.
"Come," Ivar said simply.
"Where?"
"Up high." They climbed to an area where few people still ventured. Raven looked at the city one last time.
"Ivar…"
"Trust me." He took her in his arms, without hesitation. A sure, natural gesture. She put her arms around his neck.
"You're still going to warn me, though?"
"Too late." They set off.
Not toward the sky. Through the city.
They glided between the structures, above the streets, above the living, the present. Raven let out a genuine laugh, carried on the wind. "I understand now."
"What?"
"Why do you always go up high?"
They slowed down, hovering above a bustling square.
"Raven…"
"Yes?"
"I'm not promising anything. But I'm not running away."
She rested her forehead against his.
"That's enough for me."
When they landed and found Lucy and Sigi, something had changed.
Vyrheim was no longer just a new city.
It was a beginning.