The sunset over Hiraeth was magical. No pun intended. 

Over the distant forests, the high trees shot up into the sky, arrows of green piercing the afternoon colors that changed from orange, to purple, to a sort of off-white when the clouds came rolling in. And the breeze smelled just as it should’ve, cut grass, fresh water, with a subtle hint of dinner from the kitchens. 

I could smell it from the gardens, which was where we both were, on a hill that overlooked the entirety of the place. Hiraeth was indeed wonderful, like a second home. This manor, turned into a school by the late founders, was every bit the sort of spot one would find comfort in. 

But there was no time to really indulge in the sights, not with Hallow there beside me. Begrudgingly, I’d taken that small sapling and told him of the first (technically last) task. My main goal in visiting Cupid and Quin had been kind of a success. At least I’d gotten some information out of them, though not as much as I’d planned. 

With the approval of our headmistress and professor, Eva, we’d all chosen this location to plant the tree. It was in a grove of other plant life, far away from the activity of school. No student would explore the boundaries. Not unless it was Hallow and I. In the past we’d made it a habit to seek out what lied beyond Hiraeth. Those harrowing adventures had almost gotten us killed a few times as we’d grown up. Being there had brought back many of those memories.  

Hallow, who was digging out the last of the hole for the tree, wiped his brow with the back of his hand, mind seemingly elsewhere. We hadn’t spoken much, not since we’d left the office of Professor Eva. 

I took the initiative and spoke first. “They knew I’d come searching for clues.” 

Hallow stabbed his shovel into the pile of dirt we’d made. Like myself, he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, uniform blazer a good few feet away so as not to get dirty.

“I’m just frustrated that no one told us.” The frustration he felt was relatable.

“It means that this isn’t some normal competition, Hallow.” I let go of my own shovel to sit on the ground, right beside the sapling. “We’re being fooled.” 

“Why?” He joined me by sitting on the other side of the hole. 

“How would I know answers like that?” I snapped. “I barely managed to find out, until Cupid threw me out of his classroom.” 

Hallow pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, “This is dangerous.” 

“Not everyone gets to leave this competition unscathed, Hallow.” I didn’t hide my bluntness. This was a dangerous game, and plenty of chosen ones before had failed horrendously for that wish. “And unlike you, I plan to outdo them all by winning this.” 

He didn’t look upset by my words, but I could tell he knew I was only being competitive. I hated how good he was at analyzing people. It was a wonder as to how he hadn’t seen right through me so far. 

Without saying a word back to me, my new partner reached out to the sapling, taking it by the burlap material that hung around the tiny tree, protecting it from falling apart. Hallow didn’t have the most careful touch, not with his rough hands, but in rare times I did notice how delicate he could be with things. It made me think how he’d touch me, when we weren’t fighting with swords or spells. 

His voice turned faint, as if contemplating the importance of the plant, “This small tree is the key to this competition, isn’t it?” 

An analytical mind. He had a very good one, one that could rival mine. There were many traits we shared, which had ultimately led us to this relationship of envy. It was the truth—we tended to envy each other, of our abilities and our talents. Our desire to win against one another was astounding. 

I didn’t mean to sound cautious, but he was right about that tree being the key to . . . something. “In a way, Hallow, we are the ultimate key.” The glare I had on my face was totally directed to that sapling. I didn’t trust it. “Which means it is inevitable that we start this.” 

I had wanted to say that we needed to do this together. I was being patient already, and I was reaching my limit. The more I stayed away from Hallow, the better. 

It wasn’t hard to see that he thought the same way. “We can die.” 

“Hallow, that was not necessary to say aloud,” I half-complained. 

Professor Eva had hinted on it, though it hadn’t been said until Hallow blurted it out. I was scared, as any person would, to die for one wish. You’d think that it’d be exciting to start a new quest, with the possibility of an impossible prize. To me, it was disturbing. 

The quests we’d gone on in our years at Hiraeth could compare, if you took into account the fact that we could’ve died. But this competition was a hurdle we had to meticulously think over. 

Hallow extended the sapling to me, and when I got the gist that he wanted to lower it down together, I followed his actions. The sapling was small, rough, with roots that fell in long strands. It dirtied my fingers, collecting earth beneath my nails, and causing my heart rate to rise with anticipation. Nothing would happen once it touched the fresh soil, I was only nervous over the preparation. It was suspicious that no one would tell us the specifics. They’d only ordered us to plant it and raise it. 

Why? 

“How many ways can a tree kill us?” Hallow said, once the tree was finally down. 

I grabbed a smaller shovel and began packing dirt into the hole, to fit the tree securely in the ground. No magic had been needed to do it. Just plain hard work between the two of us. “If you keep worrying, I will literally tie you to one of these trees so that you may figure it out for yourself.” 

He frowned, “If we fight, it might get angry.” 

I stopped from rolling my eyes. “It is only a tree that we need to grow. Professor Eva will do the rest.” 

“What if we die because of this competition?” he sounded more angry than concerned. “I can’t let that happen.” 

“Then don’t get hurt,” I ordered, words tumbling out of my mouth. I don’t think I’d ever let slip my worries for his health and safety. I did, constantly, in my head, though never to his face. Smoothly, I corrected myself before he could catch onto my feelings.

“I mean—I wouldn’t want my greatest rival to be eliminated so soon.” I cleared my throat. “It’d be too boring without someone to defeat.” 

He studied me. I wished I could hear his thoughts. “Fine.” 

“Fine,” I echoed. 

I used my penetrating glare as an excuse to look at his unkempt appearance. I loved seeing him as he was during quests. Full of adrenaline, with a look that said he was living life to the fullest, Hallow was a resilient hero from birth. 

My words to him were full of spite, dripping in lies to conceal my true feelings. Hallow was right about the competition being dangerous, but what he didn’t know was that I was making sure neither of us would get seriously hurt. I wanted to have many chances to look at him, to talk to him even if it was only in arguments, so that I could spend those few moments with him. 

Hiraeth was my home, and it had brought me to Hallow. Hallow, who looked handsome in the sunset, with the wind disrupting his already wavy hair that fell across his eyes, and with his tie that hung loosely and never correctly around his neck. Hallow, who was a hero inside and out, the only rival who thought of me as his equal . . . 

I would do anything in my power to win, to ensure his safety now and forevermore.