Michellin

Wanderers

Kire rose a little groggily in time for dinner, but it didn’t take long for her to be alert again. She was much less sore now, and eager to put herself to work. When Ysaryn warned them that the elves were approaching, Kire stood and waited, glad that they were ahead of schedule. She bowed her head briefly in greeting to Aera, then pondered on her question. Kire could already tell this would be grueling work, but she was in the mood for that, anyway. She looked at Aera and suddenly remembered Ruli’s confession earlier; she turned away quickly before her face gave anything away, facing the direction of the woods. “Right, so. I have a few ideas, though I suppose you’d know how to proceed, too. As far as I could tell, the gate is gone, and no blood magic is holding the woods together now.” She crossed her arms. “Ideally we should we working piece-meal on it, break the woods into smaller areas, cut the trees down, and work our way through to control the fire, but that would take time. Unless you’ve got some magic way of doing it.”

“We could cut down as much as we could along the border to serve as a fire break,” Narda suggested, to which Kire nodded, looking like they had gone over these suggestions themselves earlier. “If you have axes to spare, maybe some rope to help haul the logs around, Kire and I could help work on that while the rest of you gather your supplies.”

Once the items they requested had been brought to them, Kire and Narda went to work. Kire let herself get absorbed in her task, quiet unless asking Narda something or giving instructions. Without the blood magic animating the life within the perimeter, the trees had become mostly brittle and dry. Given a few hours and between Narda and Kire’s dragon-strength, they were able to cut down a sizeable amount along the border, taking breaks in between. “I will sleep like the dead after this,” Narda said, stretching and rubbing her hands.
“That’s why you nap before doing work this large,” Kire put in, though she, too, was tired from the work. She paused to sit on the ground for a spell, looking at their handiwork. “Wonder if any of the wolves are still alive? Though none of them came for us yet.”
“We’ll know when the fire gets going,” Narda said lazily, gesturing around them.
“We don’t want to burn down more than these woods you know,” Kire said, amused.
Narda shrugged. “We could cut them down as they flee. Unless you want to go in there and cut them down now, yourself.” She raised a brow when it looked like Kire was considering it, but she thankfully looked like she’d rather wait till the elves were here.

Wanderers

Kire smirked at Ysaryn’s description of the mage. “My only regret is that I didn’t get to see their faces on the other side of the portal. No—my real regret would be that I couldn’t open the other side of the portal over the ocean.” She turned slightly towards Ruli when he made his suggestion. “Maybe. If he could get a look and feel of what I had gone through with the portal, he could get a better idea—or maybe just a description would do,” she added, looking away again and continuing her meal, not wanting to sound like she was making yet another imposition on Ruli.
“I’m sure Daryll would be thrilled to discuss this, too,” Narda put in. “We could help you practice when we’re back home.”
Kire nodded in response to that, then finished the rest of her food in silence. “I’m going to inspect the area around the woods,” she said afterwards, standing up. “Just going to make sure there isn’t any errant blood magic left on this side. Rest of you better stay here in case something else sends you back to Amria.”
The giantess looked up at her, silently debating whether or not to stop her. “I’m coming with you, Kay,” Narda said, following her. “Have to make sure you don’t plan on burning the whole thing down by yourself and getting yourself in trouble all over again.”
“Trouble finds me even when I stand still, Nard,” Kire said, but made no objection to the giantess coming along.

“Now, Wyvern, talk. Your current disposition worries me,” Narda said as soon as they were out of earshot. “These moods of yours I know come either before or after something disastrous. Which is it?”
Kire didn’t answer immediately, intent on the errand she had put upon herself. But when the giantess nudged her, she sighed. “After,” she answered. She gave an account of what had happened last night, at least a much-abridged version, and the subsequent argument earlier. “Seems like there are no bounds to the things I’ve ruined. My empire fell apart, I’ve lost family, and I can’t even manage to bed someone without it being a complete disaster.” She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I royally fucked up, over something that shouldn’t really mean anything. How stupid is that?”
Narda let out a breath. They stood still, where they could see the twisted thicket some distance away. “Well. If you are as upset as you are right now, it’s definitely more than just ‘nothing’. Perhaps that sentiment extends to the person who is on the other side of this argument, yes?”
“He’s a friend. Nothing more,” Kire said.
“Was that what you wanted? Or have you not sorted that out for yourself?”

When Kire didn’t answer, Narda continued, arms crossed. “If I may be frank with you. I know you’ve tried a few times, and that we tease you mercilessly about it, but I don’t think you’re the sort of woman who lays with someone for the sake of just pleasure. And you haven’t made peace with that yet. I know you’re sick of being forced to make choices, and also you being, well, you, but in this case, perhaps it is best for you to decide what it is you need, for your own sake. What you need may or may not involve him. You do have the tendency of making things infinitely harder for yourself, as you’ve said.” She patted Kire gently on her shoulder. “Why him?”
Kire sighed, and shrugged. “I thought we understood each other. I don’t know, really. I wasn’t thinking straight, I guess.”
“Hmm.” Narda looked to the woods again. “Now, did you go out here just to be alone, or are we really going to have a look?”

They came back much later after inspecting the perimeter of the woods and finding nothing unusual beyond the woods themselves. No otherworldly creatures attacked them, and no sign of another gate nearby. Knowing it would be a long night, Kire went straight to the tent to take another nap. Narda joined her, and Kire was silently glad to have her old friend around to turn to. While Kire slept on, Narda got up in the afternoon to hunt for a late lunch.

Wanderers

Narda came out not long after and huffed as she sat with them again. “Her Majesty isn’t hungry,” she said with a mock flourish of her hand, then took her portion of the hares as well as Kire’s. She glanced at the sleeping Ruli briefly with a shake of her head before chewing on her meal. She had scarcely gone halfway through when Kire emerged from the tent, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She took a seat next to Narda, who eyed her suspiciously.

“Is that mine?” Kire asked, pointing to the giantess’s meal. Narda rolled her eyes and gave her the portion meant for her. Kire dug in as if she hadn’t had her own breakfast earlier today at Elva’s. “So, we’ll be burning the thicket tonight?” she said, pausing from her meal. “We’ll have to be careful. Even without magic involved, burning something this large could be disastrous under the worst conditions.” She listed off her ideas and possible strategies, which Narda noted now and then with an occasional grunt. While it was an important conversation, Narda also knew Kire well enough that this was also more for the Wyvern to apply her mind to work and not dwell on what had been bothering her.

“And I’ll need your help with something later, Nard,” Kire added. “Portal-related. I think tearing that world gate apart’s changed mine a bit. I was able to transport people without needing to jump through the portal, myself. Would be bloody useful in a fight if I can master it.”
This time Narda looked at her. “Doesn’t the portal use exhaust you? You said it almost killed you to use it three months ago.”

“Ah, so you do listen,” Kire put in, to which Narda ruffled Kire’s hair hard.
“I pay attention when you tell me you did something stupid, little Wyvernling.”
Kire grumbled and pushed her hand away, though she left her own hair a mess. “You’re right. But something’s different about it this time. I don’t think I’ll be able to use it in the same scale as when I was siphoning the gate’s energy, but it sort of—” she gestured with her other hand, trying to find the words, “shook something loose? I can’t explain it properly, it’s just a feeling.” Kire returned to her meal, chewing thoughtfully and pointedly avoiding looking at Ruli against the tree.

Wanderers

Kire watched him turn away. She wasn’t quite sure what it was she felt then. Relief, certainly, that the awkwardness was gone, now that they’d lashed out at each other. Relief, too, that it was over. Though that disappointment she had felt earlier hadn’t gone away. She did smile, though, at his parting remark. There was that, at least. She stood there for a few moments longer, arms limp at her sides, remembering that strange warm fluttering she had felt last night when she lay next to him. It’s over, though. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to just think of it as one good night between friends and leave it at that. She had enough complications in her life.

She walked back to them, pensive. “Lazybones has returned,” Narda declared, a glint in her eye telling Kire the giantess was hungry for details. She could see Nard eyeing Ruli, too before returning her gaze to Kire. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to hunt for food. You could go back and beg for more vegetable dishes if you want less work.”
“Pfft. Testy little dragon,” Nard teased. “We have some time till the task later tonight, anyway. Might as well busy ourselves.”
“Mm. I’m going to nap. I’m still sore. We’ll talk later, Nard,” Kire said, no longer caring if Ysaryn would tease her about how sore she was from last night.
Narda watched Kire go and pick a spot to lay on, shaking her head. She’d know all the details later, anyway.

Wanderers

“I’m not asking to marry you, all my gods!” Kire said with an exasperated groan, pushing down the well of anger at herself. When he snapped back at her, she glared, her temper making it hard for her to focus on what he was saying, until he started talking about her. Aera. She was silent, fuming, yes, but more and more, it had started to dawn on her why he behaved the way he did. Why seeing Aera was a nightmare for him. And gave her an idea of the darkness that lurked in his past. Kire’s hands clenched into fists. You fucked up, Kire.

“I’m not ordering you around. I’m not asking you to be my subject. Far from it! I’m just—” She covered her face and growled. How did it spiral into this? When she lowered her hands to look ahead, her temper had started to falter, and only confusion was left, and regret. She couldn’t quite regret last night, but everything since. Couldn’t she had just left well enough alone, shaken his hand, thanked him for his time, and they could have forgotten the whole affair happened and went on their way? Why did she feel the need to needle him like this?

She was quiet afterwards, her lips pursed, her words failing her along with her temper. What could one say to that confession he had just given? Where should she go from here? “Alright.” She sighed heavily, rubbing her face again. “Alright. I won’t pry.” She ran her hand through her hair. “So, we don’t cross the line then. Start over. As your friend.” She sighed again. “As your friend, though, I will say this. You can’t keep people away forever. I’m not talking about me. Just—I don’t know. It’ll be long, lonely life if you keep doing that.”

Wanderers

Whatever flimsy attempt Kire had at holding back what was left of her already terrible temper snapped at his response. She turned back to him, livid. “Is that really what you think of me? Gods above, no wonder you’re terrible at friends. You just relish assuming the worst of people, don’t you?” she spat back. She was red for a different reason now, and she groaned into her hands. Some part of her couldn’t resist picturing it from Ruli’s point of view, though. She had been drunk. She was in Elva’s house. He had nowhere else to go. She wanted to be angry—she was—but the thought of him having a valid argument only fueled her temper. “If you think being spurned in bed would make me turn around and hurt people because of it, you’re not quite right in the head. I didn’t do any of those things to the poor bastard who fucked me the first time. You know why it wasn’t such a jolly good time for either of us? He took one look at the scars on my body and I could see the horror on his face. Can’t exactly fuck someone straight after that.”

She had more to shout at him, but it was hard to rearrange her thoughts with her conflicted anger. Disappointment at the way he felt about her, anger at the way he looked at her, fought with the disappointment she felt in herself for letting all this happen. You fucked up, Kay.

Wanderers

Kire frowned, turning to him. “That—I was joking,” she put in, still frowning as he fumbled and tried to put the words together. Couldn’t say no. “What?” She glared at him, mouth open. “Firstly. You can’t exactly say you have the sunniest disposition, and you do have a habit of making people cross at you. And secondly, what do you mean ‘can’t say no’?” Her voice rose then. “It wasn’t like I was forcing you into it! I thought—I just—I came to you thinking you might understand feeling alone the way I do, but if it was such an imposition then my apologies.” She growled, crossing her arms and looking away, shaking her head.

Wanderers

Kire snorted at his response. “’Glad I could be satisfactory’,” she repeated in a mock masculine voice. “You make it sound like I paid you.” Still, despite her blush, she grinned. Though, the way he had hesitated at her question, like he wasn’t still sure about who she was to him, bothered her a little.

“It’s not like you or I can read each other’s letters, anyway,” she put in, looking sidelong at him, pausing in thought. “No, you’re not,” she said bluntly afterward, looking ahead. “Maybe you should work on that. Because, despite your best efforts, you do still have friends, and keep finding new ones. Loosening up even a little wouldn’t kill you. Seemed to work out great last night, anyway.”

Wanderers

Kire almost let out a giggle of relief when he said she hadn’t been terrible. Alright, one less thing to be embarrassed about. Though when he began to speak again and saw his uneasiness, her face fell.
“Well. You’re not wrong. We’re literally worlds apart.” She paused, frowning a little, trying to ignore the wave of disappointment that washed over her. “If I may put in an objection though, if you weren’t my type, I wouldn’t have enjoyed that as much. Much better than the first time, definitely.” Fantastic was the word she had in mind, but she didn’t want to look overly eager. But what do you want? “So, we’re just—friends, then? I’m at least that, right?”

Wanderers

“Ah. I see,” Kire said lamely. She was silent for a while then blew out a breath. “I don’t know which I’d prefer, to be honest. This is only my second time ever to have a real go at it.” She grimaced at how she worded that, then cleared her throat. “Isn’t that funny? A hundred year old Empress and Paladin, and it’s bedding someone that’s making me this nervous?” A nervous giggle threatened to bubble up and burst out of her, which she tried to stamp down. “Just—it wasn’t—I wasn’t bad, was I? I mean, not that there’s anything wrong if you didn’t like it, and if you’d rather we forget about the whole thing I could do that. Not that I think it’s terrible, myself, quite the opposite,” she said, her voice just going slightly higher by the end of it. Her ears burning, she settled her gaze on a tree up ahead, staring intently at it as she waited for his answer.