"South," I said, looking down at the paper in my hands.
I expected the map to remain its usual, useless self, a drunk pirate's doodle on a napkin. But as Lyra mentioned the abandoned station, the ink on the paper did something that made me almost drop it.
It moved on its own.
The zigzag line that represented the river changed like a worm. The triangles representing the mountains shifted, reshaping themselves. And right next to the red 'X' that marked my location, a new symbol bled into existence.
It wasn't an 'X' this time but a star.
"Whoa," I muttered, bringing the paper closer to my face. "Okay, so it has GPS functionality. That's an upgrade. Still, what am I supposed to do with this?"
Lyra leaned heavily against my side, peering over my arm. Her breath slowed slightly with every step, but her curiosity seemed to overtake the pain for a second.
"That mark..." She pointed a trembling finger at the star. "That is the old Dock. It's where the Kingdom used to station their beast mounts before the war moved west."
"Beast mounts?" I looked at her. "Like... flying horses? Griffins? Please tell me it's not giant pigeons. I hate pigeons."
"Wyverns," Lyra corrected, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "If we can reach the edge of the forest, near that station, I can summon transport. It will get us to the healer in hours, not days."
"Wyverns." I nodded slowly, trying to process this. "So, dragons on a diet. Got it. And you just... have one on speed dial?"
"I am a warrior of the Leaf," she said, though the grandeur of the title was slightly undercut by the fact that I was currently holding up eighty per cent of her body weight. "We have our ways."
"Right. warrior. Wyverns. Magic map." I stuffed the map back into my pocket. "Let's go find your ride."
We walked in silence for a while, the crunch of dry leaves under my sneakers sounding terrifyingly loud in the quiet forest.
The temperature was dropping fast.
Without my hoodie, the cold was unbearable. The wind cut right through my thin t-shirt, raising goosebumps on my arms. I was shivering, my teeth threatening to chatter, but I clamped my jaw shut. It wouldn't do for the "hero" to freeze to death while the injured girl watched.
"You are shaking," Lyra noted. She didn't sound mocking, just observant.
"I'm vibrating," I corrected through gritted teeth. "It keeps the muscles loose. Ready for action. High-level strategy that can save our lives."
"You gave me your warmth," she said softly. Her hand, which was gripping my shoulder for support, tightened slightly. Humans are usually selfish creatures. You are... different, Suho."
"Don't fall in love with me yet," I said, flashing her a grin that I hoped looked charming and not like a grimace of pain. "I haven't even killed a slime for you. That's usually the second base of fantasy romance."
She looked at me with that same confused expression she'd had earlier. "Your way of talking is baffling. Slime? Second base? Are these supposed to be codes?"
"Something like that. Look, don't worry about the cold. I'm hot."
"If we survive this," Lyra said, her voice serious, "I will buy you the finest cloak in the capital. Silk-lined that can withstand any cold."
"I'm holding you to that. I look great in cloaks."
We kept moving. Despite the pain she was clearly in, Lyra didn't complain once. She had a grit to her that I admired. Most people I knew,, myself included, would have been crying on the floor by now.
I tried to keep the mood light, mostly to distract myself from the fact that every shadow looked like a goblin and every snapping branch sounded like a death sentence.
"So," I whispered, "tell me about these goblins. Are we talking about the small, annoying ones that steal socks? or the big, bulked-up ones that use tree trunks as clubs?"
"They are scouts," Lyra whispered back. "Small. One is no threat but ten of them are a problem."
"And you killed... how many?"
"Seven."
"Remind me never to steal your money."
Her lips slowly curved upwards. "I do not carry money for lunch. I hunt."
"Of course you do. Badass elf."
Suddenly, Lyra's body went rigid against mine.
She didn't speak. She just dug her fingers into my bicep, hard enough to bruise, and pulled me down.
"Down," she whispered, barely audible.
I dropped to a crouch, dragging her with me behind the massive, twisted roots of an ancient tree. The roots formed a small, dark hollow, just big enough for two people if they didn't mind having zero personal space.
I didn't mind. We couldn't afford to.
My back was pressed against the rough bark, pulling Lyra into the space between my legs and the wood, trying to make us as small as possible.
Then I heard it.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Sniff.
"Skraaa... meat... find..."
My blood ran cold.
I looked at Lyra. Her face was pale, drops of sweat forming on her forehead. She had her hand over her wound, stifling any sound of pain.
She reached out and placed a hand over my mouth.
I froze. The footsteps got closer.
They were right on the other side of the tree.
I held my breath until my lungs burned.
Lyra was pressed tight against me. Without the bulky hoodie between us, there was no barrier. I could feel the heat radiating from her feverish skin. I could feel the fabric of her tunic and the softness of her hair against my neck.
In any other situation, literally any other situation, my brain would have been short-circuiting. A pretty elf girl touching.
But right now? My heart wasn't racing because of romance.
It was racing because if those green little bastards looked around this tree, we were dead meat.
We were basically a Happy Meal with legs.
I looked down at her but she was already looking at me. Her expression was unreadable. It wasn't the arrogant warrior face, and it wasn't the scared victim face. It was just... intense.
She didn't blush. Neither did I. This was too dangerous for that. It was the kind of intimacy that comes from shared survival—the realisation that the only thing standing between you and the void is the person breathing quietly next to you.
One of the goblins paused near the roots. A spear tip poked through the gap, inches from my knee.
I just stared into Lyra's eyes, anchoring myself to the only beautiful thing in this ugly situation.
If we die, I thought hysterically, at least I'm dying with a 10/10 hottie and not in my gaming chair covered in Cheeto dust.
The goblin grunted, withdrew the spear, and moved on.
The footsteps slowly faded.
We stayed frozen for another full minute.
Finally, Lyra exhaled, a long, shaky breath. She took her hand off my mouth but didn't move away.
"They're gone," she whispered.
"Yeah," I croaked. My voice was gone. "That was... fun. Let's do it again sometime."
She smirked, weak but genuine. "You have a very loud heart, Suho."
"It's a feature," I said, helping her sit up. "It's crying out for survival"
"Come," she said, using the tree to pull herself up. "We are close. The trees are thinning."
We stepped out of the tree line onto a rocky ridge.
Below us lay a valley bathed in the orange glow of twilight. And in the centre of the valley, jutting out of the ground like a broken tooth, was a stone platform.
"We made it," I breathed, feeling a wave of relief so strong my knees almost buckled. "Civilization. Sort of."