Theea
Yla
I glance down when Soh’s hand touches my arm—just a light gesture, but it settles something in me. I nod quietly at her words, letting them sink in.
“Yeah,” I say after a moment. “My parents weren’t perfect either. But they tried. Gave up a lot to keep me safe.”
I don’t say more than that. There’s no need. Some things are just understood.
When she lifts the cloth again and dunks it, I watch the water ripple in the bucket. Her eye looks worse in the light now—puffier, darker—but she’s still smiling. Grinning, even. I can’t help but laugh.
“Honestly?” I grin back. “If you commit to the sideways thing, I think people would just assume you’re fashion-forward. Trailblazer of asymmetrical movement.”
I stretch my legs out and glance toward the windows, where the light is starting to drift lower, warm and slanted. The air smells like worn wood and leather—grounding in a way.
“Auden’s a good name,” I say eventually. “Sounds steady.” I glance her way again, more thoughtful now. “Did they teach you anything you still carry with you? I mean, not magic or fighting anything—I know not everyone has that in their pocket. But just… the kind of stuff that sticks. The way you talk to people, or how you decide who to trust.”
I shrug lightly. “Most of what I know came from my mom. But she’s more fight-first, talk-later.” My grin tilts wry. “I try to remember my dad’s level head a little more.”
“Yeah,” I say after a moment. “My parents weren’t perfect either. But they tried. Gave up a lot to keep me safe.”
I don’t say more than that. There’s no need. Some things are just understood.
When she lifts the cloth again and dunks it, I watch the water ripple in the bucket. Her eye looks worse in the light now—puffier, darker—but she’s still smiling. Grinning, even. I can’t help but laugh.
“Honestly?” I grin back. “If you commit to the sideways thing, I think people would just assume you’re fashion-forward. Trailblazer of asymmetrical movement.”
I stretch my legs out and glance toward the windows, where the light is starting to drift lower, warm and slanted. The air smells like worn wood and leather—grounding in a way.
“Auden’s a good name,” I say eventually. “Sounds steady.” I glance her way again, more thoughtful now. “Did they teach you anything you still carry with you? I mean, not magic or fighting anything—I know not everyone has that in their pocket. But just… the kind of stuff that sticks. The way you talk to people, or how you decide who to trust.”
I shrug lightly. “Most of what I know came from my mom. But she’s more fight-first, talk-later.” My grin tilts wry. “I try to remember my dad’s level head a little more.”
let go of your fears, and jump into the river
as the starlight bleeds out, let it be your new route
as the starlight bleeds out, let it be your new route
