Lucas held a hand to his head, an insatiable ache pulsing through his temples. Every morning on the road seemed to start this way. He’d almost forgotten what a real bed felt like until that last night in Blueriver — warm, secure. Despite the dust that had triggered his allergies, it was something he’d have gladly made a part of his everyday life.
Beside him, Summer stirred, the minutes ticking by slowly as he drifted between sleep and waking. Eventually, the horse nudged him with her head. “Hm?” he mumbled, barely registering it before slipping back into a light daze. But then, a second nudge — this time, a human finger.
It barely registered… until it did. His eyes snapped open, landing on the familiar face of Mia, staring down at him with a deadpan expression, arms crossed, and cheeks flushed red. Above, the first light of dawn painted the sky. Her hair dangled downward like silk. In Blueriver, she’d always seemed like part of the backdrop. Here, with early rays framing her silhouette, she looked somehow… different.
“Mia… what the f—uh…” Lucas’s mouth dropped open as she pressed her boot lightly into his stomach.
“Followed you,” she said, tilting her head, eyes half-closed.
“Stumbling around in the dark?”
She opened her mouth, hesitated, then gave a quick nod, saying nothing more.
“Dammit… Mia. Didn’t you hear your father—I… I have to take you back.”
“He said I could go…” she replied with an innocent smile.
Lucas blinked, then sighed, leaning back. “You expect me to believe that?”
How was she so unfazed? As if the cold or danger meant nothing at all.
Mia removed her boot from his stomach, planting it firmly beside him, and ignored his question altogether, dismissing it as either rhetorical or irrelevant. “Hey,” she murmured, kneeling to scratch behind Summer’s ear. The horse responded with a soft nuzzle against her head. “Has he been working you to death?”
“No,” Lucas muttered, watching her warily. “It’s a day’s trip back on horseback…” he thought aloud, “If we move quickly—”
I got here only a little after him, she thought, barely listening to his reasoning. Must be an idiot.
Mia tuned back in as Lucas finished, “…but he might not even be in Chepstow by then…ugh.” He groaned, and for the first time, she saw a different side of him — one less guarded, openly frustrated. Didn’t take much, she thought with quiet amusement.
Still crouched, she shuffled a little closer, studying him as he sat up from his makeshift bed. “Guess you’ll have to take me,” she replied softly.
“And do what? You don’t know how to—”
“I’m not a child,” she reiterated from before. “I can figure things out.”
Her tone struck him, a little sharper than he’d expected, as if she’d long outgrown the life, he assumed she led, “It’s not that I don’t believe you…” He didn’t, “...but saying something is one thing. Doing it is…”
“Lucas,” Mia interrupted, her voice steady. “Once you take me to Chepstow, you won’t have to worry anymore. I’ll be fine on my own.” It was the longest sentence he’d ever heard her speak
“What do you want out of all this?”
Her eyes narrowed, yet she quickly wiped the expression, “I want to feel what my mother had. What my uncle had. They left for a reason, and I want that same freedom. Life beyond the village with a life I never see here...”
“That life… it’s only worth the freedom if you have someone else. My life’s been miserable without my brother, Mia.” He paused, backtracking slightly. “And besides… I’m just some fucking stranger—sorry,” he added, catching himself for the curse, as if she weren’t already an adult.
“Stranger or not...you don’t seem so dangerous to me.” She patted his head with a black, coarse glove, small specks of snow now in his locks, “And it’s only until Chepstow.”
“Do you even know what Chepstow is?”
“Mmm...” Mia hummed, “No, not really.”
Lucas sighed, “You won’t like it.” At those words, distant thunder struck overhead, “Huh...good timing.”
Her eyes flickered upward, and suddenly, drained of color, “A storm?”
“Yeah…” Lucas muttered, crawling past her and standing up from the makeshift tarp shelter. He squinted, watching the clouds drift. “They’re moving away from us…”
“So, it’ll miss us?”
“Hell, if I know,” Lucas admitted. “Weathers unpredictable. But if I had to bet, I’d say it will.”
Mia steadied her hands on Summer as a loud boom startled the horse.
“Alright…” Lucas muttered, quickly folding the tarp and stuffing it haphazardly into his bag, wet with snow though he hardly cared. “Is Summer calm enough to mount?”
She nodded, though wasn’t entirely sure.
“Good.” Lucas led the horse forward, reaching into his now overstuffed bag and pulling out a carrot, offering it to the mare. Summer sniffed it, then turned her head away, refusing the treat, “Too nervous, girl?” He spoke softly.
“Speak to me that way.”
“What?” Lucas asked, glancing over, but Mia only shrugged in response.
“Just get on the horse,” she replied with a faint smirk.
With a sigh, Lucas carefully mounted Summer, this time taking extra care not to repeat his earlier clumsiness. He held a hand to help her, but she refused it and climbed on the back effortlessly. Despite her stubbornness, there was something about her he couldn’t quite ignore.
Lucas tapped Summer’s side with his foot, and the horse began to trot, her hooves echoing like coconuts striking rock. Mia wrapped her arms around his torso, making him swallow hard, though he did his best to ignore it.
“Scared?” he asked quietly.
“No…” Mia replied in a flat tone. “I just don’t want to fall off, idiot.” Yet there was hesitancy in her tone.
Whether Lucas noticed or simply didn’t care, he made no comment. Summer moved forward carefully, her steps a bit uncertain. He was impressed by how calmly she handled everything; other horses he’d worked with weren’t as well-trained or steady. Summer’s resilience surprised him, given her age and recent unease.
Despite the freezing temperatures, rain began to fall, stinging like icy needles against their skin. But as quickly as it had started, the rain shifted to hail, pelting them with sharp balls of ice. Summer’s calm demeanor quickly faded; she shook her head, snorted violently, and stamped the ground in discomfort. Lucas gripped her reins tightly as Mia’s arms wrapped even tighter around his torso, her warmth seeping through but making him feel as though his ribs might crack.
He spotted an abandoned structure to the right, a dilapidated watchtower with an overhang that could offer some shelter. Steering toward it, he guided Summer beneath, where they found partial relief from the relentless hail.
The tower loomed against the sky, its rough stone walls reaching up at least forty feet. The material looked different from typical cobblestone, though it bore a similar, rugged appearance. The roof was thatched and dilapidated, yet the overhang they sheltered under remained sturdy and intact. Lucas’s eyes drifted to a doorway leading inside, its wood stained a dark, weathered red, standing out starkly against the stone. Wind whistled musically through cracks in its frame.
Mia took a rope from Lucas’s bag, using it to tie Summer to a small lantern hook beside the door. Lucas watched, almost in disbelief. Has she ever ridden before?
They stepped inside, the door swinging open with surprising ease. The interior was mostly rubble, the original purpose of the structure gone, though it was likely an old Ellgrick outpost — or possibly even Laufdren, a now-extinct settlement.
“Stairs are collapsed,” Lucas sighed, glancing around. “Guess we’re staying on the ground floor.”
Mia tilted her head, studying the incline above where the staircase had crumbled, possibly years or even decades ago. “Could you lift me up?” she asked and bit her bottom lip.
“Uh…” Lucas looked up at the ceiling, frowning. It wasn’t visibly sagging, but he doubted its integrity. “It could collapse, Mia.”
“Oh, come on… let’s do something fun,” she insisted, waving him over to help.
Her curiosity will kill her one day, he muttered, but moved to give her a hand, nonetheless. The man crouched, allowing her to place her wet, muddy boots into his palms, and he heavedd her upward. She grabbed onto the edge of the remaining staircase that shifted downward with worry, but then held strong as a section leaned against the rubble, all but little pebbles of rubble falling
“One wrong move, Mia…” Lucas muttered through gritted teeth as he steadied her, his eyes widening when Mia couldn’t lift herself fully onto the ledge.
“Help,” she murmured, flailing her legs for balance.
“I don’t—uh—”
“Just push on my ass, Lucas.” With a quick, somewhat flustered movement, he did, giving her the boost needed to get her whole body onto it.
“Idiot,” The girl added, and couldn't help but smirk once facing away. Brushing some debris off her jacket, she continued carefully upward. One step at a time. It felt like minutes passed till she reached the second floor. Gazing further up to the top, a broken ladder now hung by a single fiber of wood. Bummer, she thought.
Her thoughts halted as a pungent smell assaulted her nose — one she’d only ever encountered while hunting. The unmistakable stench of death, thick and sickening enough to turn even the strongest stomach. Her gaze drifted slowly over the weathered stone walls, then froze, catching something out of the corner of her eye. A body, not as old as she might have expected. Perhaps a year at most. Loose, rotting skin clung to it, flesh melted down to bone in places where it protruded grotesquely. Its eye sockets were hollow, empty — and inside…
“What is that?” Mia murmured, her voice carrying down through the tight stone walls.
“What is what?” Lucas called up, his tone wary. “Mia—I… I think you should come down now.”
But her attention was fixed. A bird, almost vulture-like but not quite, sat within the corpse, black as a crow but with a short, sharp beak. It fluttered out suddenly, squawking and flapping its wings wildly. She gasped, stumbling back in panic.
Crack.
Mia looked down, horror filling her eyes as spiderweb fractures spread across the stone floor beneath her like ice. “…Lucas…” she called, her voice trembling with a fear she’d never shown before.
Then, with a deafening crash, the floor gave way, and she plunged through the broken stone with a shriek.
She had a single, fleeting thought as she fell — that maybe, for once, she’d gone too far.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
