Theea
you lose yourself when the wind flows through your hair
you taste freedom as you fill your lungs with air
you taste freedom as you fill your lungs with air
The air wraps around me like damp cloth as I follow Remi. It’s warm in a way that clings — not the open, salt-bitten warmth of Torchline, but thick and green and still. I inhale slowly, the scent of wet bark and something gently sweet, maybe berries crushed underfoot. I’m already sweating lightly at the back of my neck, but I don’t mind.
I follow Remi down a half-swallowed path, ducking instinctively beneath a branch as it drags after him. I grab for my bag, so it doesn’t get caught, and it’s disorienting when it isn’t there. I’m still not use to not carrying everything I own. Instead, my fingertips trail a vine that’s overtaken what might’ve once been a fence, or maybe a wall, or maybe nothing at all. It’s impossible to tell now — everything is softened at the edges, blurred into the brambles and low trees.
“Mom never brought me out here.” My voice is low, not quite a whisper, but it feels wrong to speak too loud. ”It didn’t realize it had all been so swallowed up.”
The idea of cobbled streets and glowing lanterns here feels like something out of an old dream, and maybe it is — the kind of broken nostalgia that lives in my mother’s voice when she talks about this place. I catch up just as Remi brushes aside a curtain of thorns and I duck after him, until finally we break through the densest of underbrush.
The foundation is hardly more than moss-covered stone, but it tugs at me. Like bones remembered by the earth. My boots crunch softly in the moss as I step closer, gaze sweeping the fallen structure. I can almost see it—wooden beams, a hearth smoldering, damp furs drying by firelight. Maybe a muddy set of boot prints leading in. Pawprints even, from my mom coming to bug them.
“This was it?” I ask, even though I know the answer. My voice pitches up, soft but amazed. “The Monster Hunter’s Guild?”
My heart flutters. Something about the name always felt like a dare.
“I met Deimos,” I add after a beat, brushing a thorn away from my sleeve. “He lead a hunt in Halo — void-luxere. I kind of... crashed it.” A dry smile curls at the corner of my mouth, hand instinctively rubbing at my right hip, where the bruises still bloom beneath my clothes. “He asked if I’d be interested in joining. The Guild, I mean.”
I look back toward Remi, his hand on the stone, his gaze turned inward even though he’s facing out. The way people do when memory takes over. I feel a soft pull in my chest — the hush that comes when you know you’re standing in a place someone loved.
“Thank you,” I murmur, meaning it more than I know how to say. “For bringing me here.” A breath passes. The breeze rattles the thorns gently, and a sparrow flits between branches overhead. “What is it you’re looking for?” I ask, voice small in the wide green stillness.
I follow Remi down a half-swallowed path, ducking instinctively beneath a branch as it drags after him. I grab for my bag, so it doesn’t get caught, and it’s disorienting when it isn’t there. I’m still not use to not carrying everything I own. Instead, my fingertips trail a vine that’s overtaken what might’ve once been a fence, or maybe a wall, or maybe nothing at all. It’s impossible to tell now — everything is softened at the edges, blurred into the brambles and low trees.
“Mom never brought me out here.” My voice is low, not quite a whisper, but it feels wrong to speak too loud. ”It didn’t realize it had all been so swallowed up.”
The idea of cobbled streets and glowing lanterns here feels like something out of an old dream, and maybe it is — the kind of broken nostalgia that lives in my mother’s voice when she talks about this place. I catch up just as Remi brushes aside a curtain of thorns and I duck after him, until finally we break through the densest of underbrush.
The foundation is hardly more than moss-covered stone, but it tugs at me. Like bones remembered by the earth. My boots crunch softly in the moss as I step closer, gaze sweeping the fallen structure. I can almost see it—wooden beams, a hearth smoldering, damp furs drying by firelight. Maybe a muddy set of boot prints leading in. Pawprints even, from my mom coming to bug them.
“This was it?” I ask, even though I know the answer. My voice pitches up, soft but amazed. “The Monster Hunter’s Guild?”
My heart flutters. Something about the name always felt like a dare.
“I met Deimos,” I add after a beat, brushing a thorn away from my sleeve. “He lead a hunt in Halo — void-luxere. I kind of... crashed it.” A dry smile curls at the corner of my mouth, hand instinctively rubbing at my right hip, where the bruises still bloom beneath my clothes. “He asked if I’d be interested in joining. The Guild, I mean.”
I look back toward Remi, his hand on the stone, his gaze turned inward even though he’s facing out. The way people do when memory takes over. I feel a soft pull in my chest — the hush that comes when you know you’re standing in a place someone loved.
“Thank you,” I murmur, meaning it more than I know how to say. “For bringing me here.” A breath passes. The breeze rattles the thorns gently, and a sparrow flits between branches overhead. “What is it you’re looking for?” I ask, voice small in the wide green stillness.
the time has stopped, your mind has set sail
the road is home, the stars will light the trail
the road is home, the stars will light the trail
