Chapter 4 "Cradle and Blade"
The forest filtered gold.
Sunlight poured between leaves like liquid metal, dappling the cobbled path that wound beneath the towering trees. Shadows grew longer as the day sank into its last hour warm light catching on moss-covered trunks, turning spiderwebs into strands of fire. The carriage rolled steadily forward, the wheels clicking over uneven stone, the horses' hooves muffled by the soft earth at the road's edges.
Auren sat nestled between shifting cushions, chin tilted toward the window, eyes half-lidded from the lull of motion. The scenery outside blurred into a watercolor of green and bronze. But as the road deepened into shadow, he noticed something the birdsong had stopped.
The hush was gradual, like someone slowly pressing their hand over the mouth of the forest.
Auren straightened slightly, fingers absently trailing the edge of the window. The stillness made his skin prickle.
Across from him, Kirin lounged with his boots propped carelessly on the opposite seat, a peeled apple spinning in his fingers. He'd barely spoken for the last twenty minutes unusual for someone who treated silence like a personal offense. Auren's gaze drifted downward.
Kirin's right hand rested near the hilt of his curved blade. Not idly. Ready.
Virelle, perched on the edge of the driver's bench above, gave a quick, firm tap of her boot on the roof. It wasn't loud, but the message was clear. Be ready.
Auren opened his mouth to speak but the carriage jolted violently, as if the ground had cracked open beneath them.
The next second was a blur.
A sound tore through the trees, not a growl but something wetter, heavier a bone-deep crunch followed by the shriek of wood tearing apart. The carriage lifted, thrown sideways like a child's toy. Horses screamed. Wheels spun into air. Auren's vision filled with leaves, sky, then the shattering impact of
Nothing.
He didn't hit the ground.
He was already out of the carriage. Held. Cradled.
Wind whipped around him. He realized he was moving, fast impossibly fast through the trees. His breath caught in his throat, chest tight not with pain, but shock.
Kirin was holding him like a bride at a wedding that had taken a very unexpected turn.
"What," Auren gasped, "is happening?"
Kirin didn't answer immediately. His arms were locked around Auren's back and beneath his knees, firm and unyielding, but not rough. They came to a halt, only a few yards from the wreck, and Kirin set him down on his feet like a glass figurine. Still no words only that rare, strange look in his eyes: cold, focused, dangerous.
Then, almost casually, Kirin exhaled and said, "Well, that's one way to get some alone time."
Auren blinked. "Are you joking right now?"
"Not about the monster trying to kill us. That part's very serious." He flashed a grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. "But if you scream a little louder, I might catch feelings."
"You just ran with me like carried me what the hell, Kirin?!"
"I'm fast," he said simply, and drew his sword with a whisper of steel.
Auren barely had time to see what had hit them.
Back near the path, the carriage lay on its side in a mess of broken axles and torn harnesses. One of the horses had bolted. The other snorted and flailed against its tangle, panicked but still alive. The trees groaned in protest as something massive moved just beyond them, stepping into the dying light.
The beast was unlike anything Auren had ever seen.
It stood taller than a man, hunched and sharp-edged like it had been assembled from nightmare sketches. Bark and bone twisted into limbs too long for its body. Its skull-like face jutted forward, antlers blackened and gnarled like burned roots, each one tangled with leaves, thorns, and what looked horrifically like strips of fabric. Its ribcage rose and fell in visible heaves, covered in moss and open wounds that leaked sap as thick as oil.
Its eyes if they were eyes were sunken, glinting red in the low light.
"Kirin," Auren whispered, stepping closer to him without realizing.
Kirin didn't glance his way. "Yeah, that thing doesn't belong here."
"What is it?"
"Something that doesn't like wagons."
Before Auren could react further, the sound of boots on earth cut through the thick silence Virelle.
She dropped down from a low branch, having flanked the monster without a sound. Her swords were already out, gleaming like twin slivers of moonlight. She didn't look back. Didn't need to.
"Kirin," she called, steady as a bell.
"Got him."
"Then don't let go."
The beast reared, bellowing low and wet, and Virelle moved.
She moved like water through a shattering vase fluid, unstoppable. She ducked beneath the first swing of its antlered head, blades crossing with a hiss. Her momentum turned into a spinning strike, carving along its shoulder. The monster howled and twisted, but she was gone before it connected, leaping off a tree root to slice across its back with impossible grace.
Auren's breath caught again not from fear this time, but sheer disbelief.
Kirin pulled him backward, just enough to keep them clear of the fight, one arm still loosely around Auren's waist.
"I've never seen you move like that before," Auren said, voice hushed.
Kirin quirked a brow. "You've never been in danger before."
"You picked me up. Like I weigh nothing."
"Well," Kirin murmured, eyes still on the battle, "you don't."
Auren flushed. "You're "
"Handsome, modest, devastatingly fast. Yes, I know."
Before Auren could retort, the creature let out a gurgling shriek and lunged at Virelle with all its weight. The trees trembled from the impact. But she met it mid-charge, spinning once twice and driving one of her blades directly through its open jaw, up into its skull.
The monster collapsed with a sound like falling branches. It didn't rise.
Silence returned. But not peace.
Not yet.
Auren stood frozen. Kirin finally released him, stretching his arms overhead like he'd just finished a morning jog.
"Well," Kirin said brightly, "next time you want to ride through the woods, maybe don't."
Auren stared at him.
"You're insane."
"I've been called worse," Kirin said. "But you're not hurt, right?"
"No. I thanks to you."
Kirin looked at him, truly looked, and for one breath, his smile faded into something softer. Something unreadable.
Then he winked. "Anytime, princess."
And behind them, Virelle stood over the corpse of a monster that should not have existed.
Smoke curled softly from the shattered wood.
Virelle crouched beside the toppled carriage, sleeves rolled up past her elbows as she pried open a broken axle pin with the blunt end of her knife. The horses had calmed, mostly, though one still trembled where it had collapsed to its knees. The sun had dipped low behind the trees now, casting long shadows over the moss-covered stones of the path. Wind threaded through the silence, tugging at Auren's hair.
He stood near the tree line, arms crossed tight against his chest as if that would steady the pounding in it. Kirin had sauntered a few paces off, crouching by a stream of crushed leaves left by the monster's path.
Neither of them spoke at first.
Auren's skin still buzzed from adrenaline his legs unsure, his hands faintly shaking. Not from the creature. Not anymore.
From him.
Kirin.
The memory kept looping back with nauseating clarity: the lurch of the carriage, the impossible blur of motion, and then his body, weightless in strong arms, pressed against a chest that didn't falter once as they fled the wreckage. Cradled. Held.
Like he mattered.
He hated it.
No he hated how it made him feel.
Kirin turned toward him, voice casual. "You alright? Still in one piece?"
Auren flinched like he'd been yanked out of a dream.
"Don't " He cut himself off, ran a hand through his hair. "Don't do that again."
Kirin blinked. "Do what? Save you?"
"That." Auren's voice cracked sharper than he intended. "That whole thing swooping in like some some dramatic hero and grabbing me like I'm your bride-to-be? Are you serious?"
Kirin straightened, the smile creeping back onto his face like mist on glass. "Ah. So the carrying bothered you?"
"Yes!" Auren's cheeks burned. "You don't just hold someone like that."
"You were about to be turned into a pancake with very nice cheekbones. Forgive me for being efficient."
"That's not the point," Auren hissed, dropping his voice. "It's people don't do that to other men."
Kirin tilted his head, clearly confused. "Why not?"
Auren looked at him like he'd sprouted antlers himself. "Because it's gay."
Silence.
Wind rustled through the high branches. A bird gave a half-hearted cry somewhere deeper in the woods.
Kirin scratched his temple. "Is that… bad?"
Auren stared. "You you don't know what gay means?"
"Sure I do. It's, like… happy, right?"
"What? No that's not what " Auren stepped forward, exasperated. "I mean it like this: when one man feels… that kind of thing for another man."
Kirin blinked, still processing. "Oh. So like… you thought I was trying to seduce you?"
"No!" Auren nearly tripped over his own boots in panic. "But it looked like It felt like "
Kirin's eyes crinkled. "You're very flustered for someone who's definitely not gay."
Auren's jaw clenched. "I'm not."
"Okay." Kirin raised his hands in mock surrender. "But I still don't get why that would be a bad thing."
"Because it just is, alright?" Auren snapped. "Where I'm from, it's... it's wrong."
Kirin's expression changed not offended, not angry. Just… quietly confused. Like someone trying to understand a language that didn't translate.
He crouched down beside a mossy stone and plucked a blade of grass, twirling it between his fingers.
"You're not from anywhere near here, are you?" Kirin asked after a moment. "You speak like someone who's always waiting to be punished."
Auren stiffened but said nothing.
Kirin looked up at him. "So wherever you're from… they teach you that loving someone the 'wrong' way is worse than not loving anyone at all?"
Auren's mouth opened then shut again.
He didn't know how to answer that.
Behind them, the sound of Virelle hammering something into place echoed sharply in the stillness.
"You don't get it," Auren muttered, turning away. "You've never had to hide."
"I don't hide because there's nothing to hide," Kirin said gently. "You're not cursed for being human. Just cracked in places."
Auren's breath caught in his throat.
He hadn't told Kirin anything. Not about the shame, or the cold stares from temple clergy, or the sermons whispered like threats. And yet somehow, this half-wild, silver-eyed sword dancer was saying exactly the thing no one ever had.
Auren swallowed thickly.
"You're too casual about it," he said quietly. "Like it doesn't matter."
"It doesn't," Kirin said. "Not like you think."
He stood, brushed the dirt from his palms, and walked closer not threatening, not even overly warm, just there, calm and real.
"I didn't carry you to make a statement," he added. "I carried you because you were about to be crushed and I didn't want that to happen. End of story."
Auren didn't reply.
He couldn't.
The silence between them wasn't empty. It ached.
Behind them, Virelle cursed under her breath as a metal pin snapped. "Kirin! If you're done flirting, come make yourself useful!"
Kirin called over his shoulder without breaking eye contact. "He started it!"
Auren turned scarlet. "I did not "
But Kirin was already laughing, walking toward Virelle's wreck of tools and twisted wood.
And Auren stayed rooted where he was, watching the back of the man who had lifted him out of a nightmare like it was second nature no shame, no hesitation, no meaning attached but life.
Maybe Kirin didn't understand what gay meant in the way Auren did.
But maybe that was the point.
Maybe in this part of the world, gay wasn't a slur, or a shadow, or something to be unlearned through cold baths and colder prayers.
Maybe it was just another word that didn't mean broken.
Auren didn't know whether to be angry or envious of that.
He only knew this: he hadn't been held like that since he was a child. Since long before fear had a name.
And for just a few seconds, he'd let himself feel safe.
That might have been the scariest part of all.
The frantic pounding of hooves shattered the stillness as the horse bolted, dragging the carriage recklessly across the uneven dirt road. Auren's heart hammered in his chest, caught between panic and helplessness, but before he could say a word, a voice sliced through the chaos.
"Honestly, the only girl in this mess has to do all the work!" Virelle's sharp tone carried on the wind, but there was no real anger in it only a fierce, exasperated affection.
Auren's cheeks flushed, half out of embarrassment and half out of admiration as he watched Virelle leap down from the carriage. Barefoot and determined, she grabbed the reins with a grip that seemed to tame the wild beast itself. The horse's muscles rippled under her hands, eyes wide but slowly calming as her voice softened, coaxing, scolding, commanding all at once.
"Easy now, Nira. We're not racing the wind today."
The horse's frantic pace slowed to a steady trot, and then a gentle walk. Virelle's hands remained steady, but her eyes flicked toward Auren with a triumphant glint. He lowered his gaze sheepishly, unable to argue with the truth she spoke. She was right somehow, the weight of responsibility often fell on her shoulders, and yet she bore it with an effortless grace that left him in quiet awe.
"Guess you're lucky I'm here," she said with a crooked smile, climbing back into the carriage. "If not, you'd be on foot, crying in the dust."
Auren managed a weak laugh, grateful for the lightness in the moment, a brief pause in the shadow that had settled over them both. The reins were returned to Virelle's firm grip, and the carriage began rolling once more, dust swirling behind them like fleeting ghosts.
---
The road stretched ahead, winding through gentle hills before dipping toward the horizon where the city awaited Solenya, the largest settlement in this part of the realm, cradled by the sacred Fields of Luminis. As they approached, the first hints of twilight kissed the sky, the sun's last embers brushing the clouds with strokes of lavender and rose.
From a distance, Solenya looked like a vision from a dream an oasis of soft white light nestled in the earth's embrace. The buildings, crafted from polished white stone, reflected the dying daylight like shards of moonlight caught and held forever. Their smooth surfaces were etched with delicate carvings symbols of peace, renewal, and the ancient lore of the land.
Flowering vines clung to every wall, their blooms glowing faintly with bioluminescent magic. Soft tendrils of jasmine, pale bluebells, and midnight roses wove together in a tapestry of scent and color that seemed to breathe life into the city's heart. The air was thick with the sweetness of flowers and the faint hint of herbs, mingling with the ever-present, subtle hum of magic that pulsed beneath the surface.
As the carriage rolled down the main avenue, the bustling open markets unfolded before them like a living mosaic of sound and color. Vendors called out, their voices blending into a lively chorus a song of bartering, laughter, and whispered secrets. Stalls overflowed with exotic spices in shimmering mounds of gold and crimson, woven baskets brimming with fruits that gleamed like jewels, and hand-crafted trinkets that caught the soft light and scattered it in a thousand directions.
Auren's fingers itched to reach out and touch the silk scarves fluttering like butterflies, to taste the honeyed sweetness of candied figs, to listen closer to the melodies of a lute plucked by a street musician whose eyes sparkled with unspoken stories.
The scent of roasted nuts mingled with the smoky tang of firewood, and from a distance, the melodic chanting of healers and mystics drifted across the square. Their voices rose and fell in harmonies that seemed to touch the very soul, promising comfort and wisdom to those who sought it.
The Fields of Luminis lay just beyond the city's edge, a vast expanse of gently rolling grass that shimmered faintly in the twilight. Tiny lights danced like will-o'-the-wisps, flickering across the grasses the soft glow of enchanted flowers said to hold the memories of the ancestors. The fields were sacred, a place of reflection and renewal where many came to heal their wounds of the body, of the heart, and of the spirit.
As the carriage slowed near the city gates, Auren felt the weight of the journey shift beneath him. The fears that had held him tight for so long loosened, replaced by a fragile hope. The people of Solenya lived in harmony with the land and its magic. If anyone could help him find his family or at least the strength to face whatever lay ahead it would be here.
The gates opened with a quiet creak, revealing streets lined with lanterns glowing soft amber and paths paved with smooth cobblestones that felt warm beneath his feet even as the cool evening air settled in. Children darted past, their laughter ringing like bells; an elderly woman nodded kindly, her eyes wise and full of unspoken stories.
Virelle nudged him gently. "Welcome to Solenya," she said softly. "A city of light, of healing, and maybe… of answers."
Auren's breath caught, his gaze sweeping the glowing cityscape. Somewhere in this maze of light and shadow lay his mother, his brothers alive or not, lost or waiting. He would find them. He had to.
As night folded over Solenya like a silken cloak, the city's glow pulsed softly a heartbeat in the dark and Auren felt a strange, fragile peace settle within him. The journey was far from over. But for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn't alone.