Chapter 16: Questions and Meat

The next morning, the girl stirred. Arden was leaning against a tree, sharpening his new blade, while Zephyra stood alert nearby, tail flicking low. The rustle made them both glance over. Her eyes cracked open, squinting against the dim light filtering through the trees. Zephyra let out a low growl, already stepping forward. "Easy," Arden muttered, placing a hand on her side. She calmed, but her eyes never left the girl. The girl pushed herself up slowly, wincing as her body protested. She blinked a few times, then froze when she saw Zephyra watching her. "W-why is there a beast here? And... why's it listening to you?" she stammered. "That's not even what a Duskripple Mewl normally looks like... Is that even possible?" Arden raised an eyebrow but didn't answer right away. He picked a leaf out of his hair, tossed it aside, then looked at her flatly. "Do people from your town not say 'thank you' before asking a hundred questions?" She blinked, then looked away quickly, clearly embarrassed. Zephyra stared her down like a guard waiting for orders. Finally, the girl let out a soft breath. "Sorry... You're right. I'm Nyra. From Greyhold." She dipped her head, hands folded over her lap. "Thank you... for saving me. And... sorry about earlier." Arden watched her closely. When she said she was a from Greyhold, there was a flicker in her emotions—barely there, but enough for him to notice. He didn't comment though, as everyone had something they were running from. He let the silence hang for a second, then leaned back. "You gonna tell me why those bandits were after you?" "Don't lie to your savior," he added casually, eyes narrowing just a bit. "It never ends well." Nyra's lips parted slightly, but she didn't say anything. Her eyes dropped to the ground. She shook her head slowly. "I... I don't want to talk about it." "Alright," he said, not pressing further. "But secrets have a way of catching up when you're not looking." She didn't respond, just pulled her knees to her chest. Arden stood, walked over to where the last of the roasted meat lay, and grabbed a chunk. It was a simple meal—some dried herbs, roasted over a firepit he made the night before, with fruits gathered earlier in the day. He held it out to her. "Eat. It won't kill you." But she hesitated. "If I wanted you dead," he added, "I'd have let the bandits do the job. Or I'd have done it myself when you were passed out." Nyra still didn't move, until her stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl. Arden smirked. "Didn't die to bandits, but you'll die of hunger instead?" She groaned and covered her face. "You don't have to say it out loud..." "Too late." He dropped the meat in her hands and turned back. "Don't choke." She started eating, and it was clear she hadn't had a real meal in days, as she devoured the meat like it was the first thing she'd tasted in weeks. Well, it was. He tossed her his waterskin. "Slow down. If you choke, I'm not saving you again." Nyra narrowed her eyes at him as she drank. "You're not as nice as you look." "Didn't say I was nice," he replied. "You just assumed." When she was done eating, they sat in quiet for a while, the fire crackling low between them. Arden tossed a stick into the flame and glanced over. "So, what now?" he asked. "You got any plans?" Nyra leaned her head back against the bark of the tree. "I don't know... survive, I guess. Get stronger. Then maybe get revenge." Her voice dropped at the last part, the change in her mood obvious even without Arden needing to sense it. He nodded slowly. "Fair enough." She looked over at him. "What about you?" "I'm heading to Greyhold town," he said. "Need to visit the guild, Get an ID, and trade some materials. Then I'll restock supplies and come back. I'm not done out here yet." "Not done?" she asked. "You hunt alone?" "Something like that." he replied. But Nyra didn't say anything after that and just nodded quietly. Arden stood, brushing dust off his pants, and checked the edge of his sword one last time. Before he left, he looked down at her. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. You're still not fully healed." She scoffed. "Wasn't planning on dying just yet." "I'm leaving Zephyra here with you," he added. "She'll keep watch. Just don't get on her bad side." Then he crouched beside his beast companion, running his fingers through her fur and whispering something close to her ear. She huffed, clearly not a fan of being left behind, but didn't resist. "Stay with her," he said. "Keep her safe. Keep yourself safe." Zephyra let out a soft growl, which Arden took as agreement. With that, he turned and started walking toward the town, eyes fixed ahead. He didn't know what waited for him there, but he had a reason. And that was enough. From the memories he absorbed, he was able to make out the location of Greyhold town. It wasn't far, just a few days' journey if he kept a steady pace. A small, independent town that wasn't tied to any major family or mage clan, which worked perfectly for him. Less eyes, less questions. That was the kind of place he needed. What surprised him, though, was that Nyra didn't ask why he explores the outland alone. Every newly awakened got into parties registered with the Guild right after initiation. But she didn't press, and he wasn't about to bring it up either. Maybe she had her own reasons for not asking. Either way, it saved him the trouble of making something up. He didn't waste time once he left the shelter. The outlands were quiet at first, too quiet for comfort, but Arden kept moving. He had no intention of lingering. He trusted Zephyra, knew she could handle most beasts in that region without breaking a sweat. But still, the thought of leaving her behind gnawed at him. He sighed, brushing a branch out of his way as he moved down a narrow trail. "Tch... can't even go two days without worrying about her." Still, he didn't let the mood slow him down. He moved light and fast, avoiding unnecessary detours, only stopping when a beast blocked his path. He didn't hold back when they came, either. Every swing of his new sword was a test, a way to get used to the weapon's feel, its weight, how it responded to his energy. He didn't just fight, he practiced. Channeling his flame through the Crimson Core, adjusting his movements, watching how the blade pulsed slightly when infused with elemental essence. It wasn't just about survival anymore. He was refining, sharpening every part of himself. "I could get used to this," he muttered once, after slicing clean through a bear-sized beast with a single arc. The fire had scorched its hide before the blade even reached bone. The weapon wasn't just well-made, it responded perfectly. And for a moment, that was enough to pull his thoughts away from Zephyra, from Nyra, from the creeping shadow of whatever trouble was tied to that tattooed man in the bandit's memory. For now, he focused on the road ahead. He had a job to do, and the sooner it was done, the faster he could return. Back to the shelter. Back to Zephyra. And maybe.. just maybe, he could start finding answers on his trip. A/N: Send Powerstones, And Engage by leaving Comments and Reviews Thanks for the support so fa