The sun had begun to sink below the horizon when Oren slowed his pace. He had hoped they’d make more progress on their journey, but the day had been hot and dragged on. While the valley was well behind them, it would be another day yet until they reached another inn. He had hoped that perhaps they would be able to have a shorter journey the next day and arrive at their next stop by early or mid-afternoon.
Normally, he would continue on well into the night if need be, but he wasn’t going to subject Asteria to this. He turned to look at her. Hunched over, she was catching her breath. Her hands were firmly pressed against her knees, holding her up. Another step and she might completely fall over. He took a step toward her, and her hand shot up to stop him. She straightened back up and wiped the sweat from her face- which was now bright red.
“I think we should stop for the evening,” Oren said, nodding at the treeline along the side of the road.
Through laborious, heavy breaths she insisted, “No, we should keep going. I’ll be fine if you just give me a moment to rest.”
His tone grew serious, declaring, “Absolutely not. Don’t be ridiculous, Asteria. You need more than just a little rest; you need a whole damned night. Gods, especially after last night.” She looked up at him, and he knew she wasn’t going to argue with him. Those shimmering pools of green couldn’t hide that she knew he was right.
Oren waited for her before walking into the nearby woods. They headed deep enough in the forest to avoid being seen from the road by other travelers. The sun’s rays were scattered throughout the woods, and he felt comfort in the warm lighting. The evening had always been his favorite because of the way the sun cast itself across the horizon and painted every environment in gold and copper. A faint smile crossed his face, taking in the brief moment he was granted to feel at peace after the troubles they’d already endured.
Once they felt comfortable with the distance from the road, the pair dropped their bags and took a moment to sit and rest. Asteria collapsed to the ground, stretching her arms above her head as she laid in the cool grass and shade. A sliver of skin showed as her shirt lifted ever so slightly. Heat rushed through him, his cheeks and the tips of his ears felt the hottest.
“I think it might be best just to do a quick patrol of the area and make sure there’s nothing to be worried about out here,” Oren said as he stood. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Before she had the chance to respond, he was off. He walked further into the forest until he was just far enough to barely see Asteria. By the time he started to patrol the area she had sat up and started working on something he couldn’t see. Perhaps she was reading or taking notes in her journal as he had been.
After making his way around the extended perimeter of their camp, Oren was surprised to return to a small fire going at their camp. While he had been away - though it was a short time- she had gathered fallen branches and dried leaves. He wasn’t sure how she got the fire started, but he assumed she must have flint. All he knew for certain was that he was impressed that she had gotten it going so fast. Yet, she was gone.
The dull, quiet beat of his heart picked up into a thunderous pounding, and the sound of blood rushed in his ears like crashing waves. He frantically looked around, but he couldn’t spot her. Asteria had been there just a short while prior; he had been gone for only half an hour at most. Had something slipped past him? He had kept his eyes out and remained vigilant throughout his patrol, but there was always the slim chance that he missed something.
“A-Asteria!” Oren’s voice echoed through the forest. Even though he witnessed firsthand that she could defend herself in some capacity, he could not help but worry. She was likely exhausted from the ordeal from the night before and the day of travel, and this made him concerned that she wouldn’t be able to protect herself as well as she had against the Hellspawn- which had still been a challenge.
He called out her name again, his tone pleading.
A twig snapped deep into the forest, and he rushed toward the sound. He dove through the trees and crashed through a larger set of bushes. Something caught his foot, and he stumbled forward. A scream pierced the air, and he thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He slammed into the hard earth below, his shoulder connecting with the packed dirt with force. A sharp pain rippled through his shoulder and across his chest and back, but it didn’t stop him from jumping to his feet.
On the ground in front of him was Asteria, lying on her side. She rolled over to face him and winced.
“What the hell, Oren?” She hissed. Her voice was quieter than a whisper, and she was fighting back a whimper as she rose to her feet. Whatever pain she was experiencing was worse than she expected, and she collapsed to her knees.
He rushed to her side, helping her back up. She had to lean against him for support for a moment and shot a venomous glare at him. The pair struggled back to camp, limping and stumbling about together. There was the possibility that they were hindering one another more than they were helping, but neither of them would admit it. Instead, they continued to trip each other up until they finally landed themselves back in their camp.
Oren gently set the frustrated woman next to one of the trees encircling the fire she had built. Once he took a step back, she adjusted herself on the ground and scooted back. She lifted her shirt along her right side, wincing as the fabric grazed her skin. Seeing the wound, he was able to piece together what had happened. It was her that he had tripped over. The blistering red that had rapidly spread across her ribs was because of him, and the guilt made him sick.
“I truly am so sorry, Asteria,” he apologized. “I hadn’t seen you behind the bushes, and when I was rushing through-“
“I was there,” her tone was sharp, the words cold as ice. “You crashed through the brambles like a bumbling idiot, and you subsequently crashed into me. This is all very clear to me. What were you even running from?” Urgently, her eyes darted around and searched for an unseen threat.
Heat rushed across his cheeks, and he was enveloped in a shroud of embarrassment. How was he to explain that it was not a danger he was fleeing but rather one he thought he was rushing toward?
‘Oh, Gods, just strike me down now,’ he thought, looking to the sky with a pleading look in his eyes. Overhead was a horizon painted with oranges and reds, clouds that looked like they held peach blossoms that were about to shower the world below.
“When I returned from my short patrol around camp,” he started to explain, keeping his eyes on the sky above rather than letting them meet those of the wounded woman in front of him. “You weren’t here, Asteria. I am here to help you find your brother- as you well know. However, I intend to help you in any way possible, as well. Seeing you weren’t here, I called out to you. When you didn’t respond, I can’t deny that I got anxious. I thought something had happened to you, and so…” His voice trailed off, not needing to tell of the accident that occurred; the one which she had been a part of.
His gaze fell from the painted atmosphere above, landing upon her. She looked at him curiously, her mouth hanging open slightly. While he could not read her thoughts, he was certain that she was laughing internally at how ridiculous he sounded. Her mouth closed and morphed into a gentle smile. It felt as though the air grew heavy and thick, and every breath became labored. Though he tried to break their gaze, he was unsuccessful. His eyes felt stuck on her smile, her lips. Plump, perfectly soft- that was how he would describe them.
There was no point to linger on the matter, and Asteria forgave him and waved off the incident. She directed him to retrieve the mushrooms and berries that had been dropped upon collision; he gladly strode over and gathered what she managed to forage. The pair spent the remainder of the daylight talking and laughing, and she instructed him on how to cook the mushrooms. Briefly, he wondered if she was taking advantage of the bruised side to boss him around, but he decided even if that were the case he was happy to allow it.
The sun seemed to rapidly set while they chattered away, and she gave him a hint of a compliment on their dinner. Oren caught himself staring again and again throughout the evening and into the night. But he found that he could not help himself; her smile and laughter brought a light and warmth that he had not felt in a long time. He felt heat scorch the pointed tips of his ears and work its way down and across his face.
Once the night had dominated the sky, the two had pretty well settled in and began to casually discuss their lives. A sea of stars shimmered above. Digging around his satchel, Oren searched for his water skin. Inside it, however, was not water but a fragrant wine. He took a sip and savored the decadent flavors of Forasian white grapes and hints of sweet summer apples. When he left, he made sure to pack all the things he considered essential, and this wine had been at the top of his list.
“Would you care for a drink?” He offered, handing the water skin to her.
Asteria took it from him and sniffed the contents. Her brows lifted in surprise, and he wondered what she had been expecting. His eyes were glued to her as she tilted her head back and took a sip. The light from the fire painted her in a warm glow, and it allowed Oren to watch her expressive features as she processed the flavors of the drink. Her eyes lit up, and the smile she already wore grew. She looked back at him and nodded enthusiastically, gently handing the water skin back to him.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had anything as good as whatever that is,” she declared, her words laced with the sweet aroma of the wine. “Where did you get it?”
“It’s Forasian wine; it’s from the capital. I brought it with me, and now and again I partake in a little drink here and there. While this would be my preferred drink of choice, I only have this one waterskin worth and try to save it for whenever the occasion calls for it,” he explained. She tilted her head to the side, clearly thinking over what he’d just said.
Softly, she asked, “And why does the occasion call for it now?”
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he let out a hushed chuckle. It was a fair enough question, but he almost felt silly for the answer.
“To celebrate a newfound friendship, perhaps?” Oren looked over at her as he answered, and he found that she was staring at him. Her chin was resting in her hand, perched upon the log she was leaning against. A chaotic bubbling sensation stirred within him, his stomach doing leaps and flips. He wanted to say something else, give another explanation or suggestion for their indulgence in the wine. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Perhaps it was the few sips of drink, but he didn’t want there to be any other reason than the two of them traveling together and their subsequent newfound companionship.
Asteria said nothing, but her eyes spoke for her. There was great joy in those emerald eyes, and at their corners were tears pooling. With the smile she wore, he prayed that they were tears of happiness. A soft, sweet giggle escaped her, and she shook her head. Her fingers gently brushed away a tear or two that escaped and ran down her face.
“No better reason to have a celebratory drink then, right? To newfound friends and the travels ahead,” she whispered.
She had leaned over to take the waterskin from him, so close in the smoky, dim light that Oren could smell the wine on her breath. It was sweet and aromatic, and he felt as though he couldn’t get enough. The fire was eclipsed by her, bits of its light weaving through her hair and reflecting red and copper through her hair. They shared the little air that sat between them, but it felt like there was still far too much of it keeping them apart. His chest grew tight, and his heart thundered. If she were to come any closer, he worried she would hear its gallop roaring. But within an instant, she was gone and the firelight was near blinding. She leaned against the log once more; the wine in her hand.
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