Thin streaks of dawn seeped in through the worn cracks of the carriage walls, casting faint rays of light over the wooden interior. Outside, the first murmurs of morning stirred faintly—an owl’s distant call, the whisper of a breeze weaving through brittle branches.
Lucas woke slowly, drifting in and out over the course of twenty minutes. The first time, he shifted slightly but felt a weight on him and dozed off again. The second time, he moved his overheated arm. By the third, his eyes fluttered open.
Mia lay half on top of him, half off, her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders and her head nestled against his chest for warmth. She was still asleep, a quiet sleeper—no snoring, no heavy breathing.
He groaned softly, feeling the weight of her body pressing into him—uncomfortable yet warm, oddly safe. It was a strange sensation, almost unfamiliar. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t, so with a sigh, he gently shifted Mia to his right, careful not to wake her.
As Lucas moved to exit the carriage, a hand grasped his, making him pause. He glanced back, startled, his tired eyes landing on Mia. Though her eyes were still closed, she had reached out instinctively.
“Not yet,” she murmured, patting the floor beside her. Lucas hesitated but eventually lay back down. As he did, she draped an arm around his torso, burying her face into his side. She mumbled something softly, but it was inaudible, causing his skin to tingle.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up beside someone, let alone been held with such casual warmth. It felt... unsettling, grounding. Against his better instincts, he settled back down, as if fearing any sudden move would dissolve the moment.
“Mia…” Lucas murmured, breaking the silence. The scent of damp earth and aged wood lingered in the air. “We need to get moving… sun’s almost up.”
She stirred, lifting her head slightly. Strands of blonde hair clung to her face, while others hung down, framing her features. She shifted to the right, hovering just above him. “Don’t wake me up…” she grumbled, leaning in, her face mere inches from his.
“Uh…” Lucas stammered, catching the faint scent of mud and earth from her.
A light smile played on her lips. “I’m only kidding,” she whispered, teasingly. Her hand found his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as she settled her chin just above his collarbone. “You’re tense, you know that?” she murmured, barely awake. “Relax, Lucas... the sun isn’t going anywhere.”
“Yeah, well…” Lucas replied, placing a hand on her back. “My brother is… come on.”
Mia pouted, letting her body go limp on top of him. “But it’s so warm in here…” she mumbled.
“It is…” he agreed, giving her side a gentle poke. To his surprise, she was ticklish and jumped back with a start.
“Don’t—” she warned, moving away and giving him a mock glare, which allowed Lucas to finally sit up. “…do that. Ever.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow as she scooted back against the carriage wall. “Do what?” he asked, lowering his voice as he brought his hands closer.
“Lucas…” Mia deadpanned. “If you tickle me, I’ll tear your dick off.”
Lucas blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her bluntness. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him; there was no one quite like Mia.
“Don’t laugh, idiot.” Mia flicked his forehead before scrambling out of the carriage. Lucas followed, glancing around at the farmland. The snow had mostly melted, leaving the ground damp, likely from a light rain overnight. Can’t believe the carriage kept us dry, he thought.
The dirt path between the crop rows was darkened with mud, and the earthy scent of minerals filled the air—an overwhelming, familiar smell Mia usually associated with midsummer in Blueriver. Yet the air still held a biting cold.
Mia stretched her legs, then her arms, her gaze fixed on Blueriver, now visible in the distance, about half a day’s journey away. Already, they could see men and women departing from the town, setting out early to tend to the crop fields.
The two walked closer together now, arms occasionally brushing as they made space for farmers passing by. The air was thick with the scent of body odor, faintly masked by manure. The men, older and gray-skinned, looked worn and pale, while the women, mostly middle-aged, seemed more hardened by work than by years. A few gave them strange looks and muttered to one another, but no one stopped them; the workers simply continued their tasks, letting them pass without disturbance.
“After you find your brother,” Mia asked suddenly, “what are you going to do?”
Lucas clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But that’s the thing about my brother… he always has a plan. Or… well, he pretends he does and is damn convincing about it.” He glanced at her. “And you?”
Mia tilted her head. “Me?”
“Well, yeah. After we split in Chepstow… what’s your plan?”
She hesitated, unsure how to answer. From the look on Lucas’s face, he didn’t really expect one. How could she have a plan? Fresh on the road, without a home—it was impossible to know.
“There’s always Blueriver, with your father,” Lucas suggested gently.
Mia slowed her steps briefly, then shrugged off the idea. “No.”
Lucas sighed. “Did I ever tell you what happened to my parents, Mia?”
“No.” She repeated and glanced at him, “Despite that big mouth of yours, you’re always so guarded.”
He ignored her comment. “A flu. The Outsider’s Plague, they called it… brought ashore from ‘distant lands,’ whatever that means” His voice trailed off, and seconds passed that felt like minutes before he continued. “Killed thousands… only faded when it spread North and the cold stopped it. My… my mother died, and my father couldn’t take it. So, he… well.” Lucas swallowed hard. “You can fill in the rest.”
“I’m sorry, Lucas,” Mia murmured silently, “…but why tell me this now?”
“Well, you can tell me if this is overstepping, but… your father seemed so lonely. So eager to welcome anyone new, caught up in his work… I can’t help but feel it’s…”
“The same situation?” She finished for him.
Lucas sighed, nodding. “Listen, Mia. Your father seems like a strong man, but even the toughest people can’t survive in this world alone. You’re the only one he has left…”
His fingers tapped lightly against his side, an unconscious rhythm that betrayed his unease. Mia noticed, wondering if he even knew he was doing it—a little habit, she realized, that somehow made him feel more… real.
“My father?” Mia’s voice was barely a whisper, her expression neutral. “He died… many years ago. The man you met was just a husk of who he used to be. I can’t go back to that…”
“But—”
“No.” She raised her voice for the first time, drawing glances from passersby before lowering it again. “I only spoke to my father once, maybe twice a week. He’d make sure I was still alive, then go back to work. You made him worry again, but with you gone, things would have fallen back into the same cycle.”
Lucas wanted to respond, but the words wouldn't come. He closed his eyes briefly and groaned, the sound of boots crunching against the thawing earth surrounding them. Instead, he grabbed Mia's shoulder and shook her gently, just as Sebastian used to do to him.
"Just make sure you don't regret anything in the future," he said, letting his arm drop loosely by his side. He hesitated before adding, "And Mia? If you want to come with me... you can." His mouth felt dry after uttering the words.
She looked up at him almost nonchalantly—not the response he had hoped for, but it would have to do. "Come with you?" Mia elbowed him lightly, gazing ahead. "Yeah... okay. That'd be nice."
He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips.
Ahead of them, the town loomed closer. The clamor of voices filled the air alongside the creaking of moving carts. The town had no walls—evidently, they didn't have many problems with outsiders—and the pathways were all cobblestone. Despite his years of traveling, Lucas had never stumbled upon this small village. He hoped his brother hadn't left yet. Somehow, he doubted it. Even so, Lucas cast a final glance at the cobbled pathways and open-air market, his heartbeat quickening. Wherever Sebastian was, he would find him, even if it meant leaving Mia behind.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
