Cody landed on something—something far softer than the ground could ever be. The air wasn't knocked from his lungs, and his hands felt… feathers.

“Hold on to me!”

His fingers obeyed the command instantly, even though Cody himself hadn’t quite registered what was happening. His hands gripped Orion’s shoulders. Beneath him, enormous wings unfurled and beat the air with force.

They skimmed just above the ground, flying low over tall grass, peaceful streams, and bright wildflowers—as if there had never been death waiting for him down here.

The ground came closer and closer until Orion touched down, running through the grass. His wings flapped as he stumbled and pitched forward. Cody was thrown from his back and landed with a thump among the damp blades.

He rolled over. “Orion? Are you okay?” His voice trembled; tension still hummed through his limbs.

Orion sat up, brown feathers fanned out behind him. “Yeah.” Still, he stared blankly ahead for a moment. “That was… way too close.”

“It was,” Cody said softly. He searched Orion’s face. “You saved my life.”

“I’m also the one who put it in danger. I underestimated Locke.”

“Locke?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his legs up and rubbed at his ribs on the left side. The landing must’ve hurt more than he was letting on. “He showed up a few years back. When I was still living with the other exiles. At first, I thought he was you.” He glanced toward the cliff they'd just fallen from, clearly ashamed.

Andrew—or Locke—was still up there somewhere.

“He pretended to be you. Said something had happened—something he didn’t want to talk about. That explained why he acted differently. But then… he got more and more clingy. And darker. Eventually, he confessed he was your brother and came to me with some tragic story. I didn’t know what to do. He was your brother, so I didn’t want to just cast him aside. But I kept seeing more darkness in him, and he followed me everywhere. I wanted to tell you, but, well, our conversations were strained—because of whatever it is you’re dealing with.” He looked at Cody’s hands, which lay calmly in his lap. “Or were.”

“Were,” Cody said with a faint smile. “You were right. It was an enchantment. A scent she always wore. I smelled it when it washed off.” His shoulders sagged. He was glad to be free of it, but the betrayal still cut deep.

First Fleur, now his brother...

“I don’t understand why my brother pushed me,” he muttered.

“He’s not your brother. Moss told me he’s a forest spirit. The ogre had been lured away by one too—one that took on Bast’s form. When Moss couldn’t find you, he ran back to get me. I’d never even heard of forest spirits before. Apparently, they burrow into your mind and take on the shape of someone you care about. That’s the only way they can get a body. Locke must’ve hoped I’d eventually forget about you, that he could take your place. I think that would’ve made his form permanent. But since I didn’t forget you, he had to keep feeding off my attention. First through friendship. Then… he wanted more. And when I didn’t, he started driving me up the wall.”

“But why take my shape?”

“Apparently, I thought about you a lot.”

Cody felt Orion glance his way. He’d been open about his feelings before. Still, Cody wasn’t ready—not after what he’d just learned about Fleur. Instead of meeting Orion’s eyes, he plucked a few wildflowers from the grass.

“Do you fly often?” Cody asked after a while. The thought that Orion had thrown himself off a cliff without knowing for sure if the wings would work made him nauseous.

“I hadn’t done it in a while. I used to fly with Nezumi, but landings are still tricky. Last time, I broke my leg.”

“You could’ve died.”

“I could’ve fallen off a ladder this morning fetching wheat grains. That’s no reason to swear off bread forever.”

“That’s not the same,” Cody muttered.

“I trust my magic.”

That was something Cody had trouble with. He simply wasn’t as gifted as Orion. Orion had even experimented with his magic on living beings—something Cody would never dare attempt.

A silence settled over them after Cody’s words. The fact that Orion had missed him, had thought about him for years, made him suddenly hyperaware of himself.

They didn’t know each other that well. Maybe Orion had an idea of him that didn’t match reality. Cody didn’t want to disappoint him.

Eventually, Cody stood. “How do we get back? Can you fly up again?”

“I think I pulled something during the landing, because it really freaking hurts. I’m not risking it with your extra weight. We'd crash for sure.” Orion looked around thoughtfully. “I’ve never been down here before, but if I remember right, it gets flatter that way. It’ll be a long hike. No way we’ll make it back before dark. Hopefully we’ll be out of the ravine by then.”

“Is it dangerous here?”

“I’ve seen tentacled creatures from above. Big ones, too.” Orion nodded toward the cliff. “But generally speaking: if you leave the local creatures alone, they leave you alone.”

Generally speaking. Which probably meant plenty of exceptions. “How many spells do you have left?”

“One in this one. I’m annoyed I didn’t bring the others.”

“You have more than one wand?” Cody asked in disbelief.

“I have four. But it’s pretty obvious they weren’t made by experts—sometimes one of them explodes or catches fire.”

“That… you're not supposed to do that.”

Orion shrugged. “They’ve come in handy.” He kicked a stone.

Cody followed its arc until it vanished into the grass. “Have you always wanted to leave Holtgaard?”

“Yeah.” Orion skirted around a marshy patch. His leather boots still sank into the mud, so Cody took a wider route. “But ‘never returning’ wasn’t on the wishlist. I just hoped the rules would ease up one day. They’re missing so much in that village. Would you be happy living there again, never setting foot outside? It’s a prison.”

Cody considered his words. He’d always been curious about the world beyond, but he’d never have broken the rules. Still… would he give all this up? He’d been content in Holtgaard—even now, knowing he’d been enchanted. But the thought of never being allowed to leave again weighed on his heart. Especially since there didn’t seem to be anything out here that actually made people sick or evil. He stepped over a fallen log. It was covered in small white mushrooms, and colored caterpillar-like insects crawled over it. “Why would they prohibit people to leave in the first place? There must’ve been a real danger.”

“I think it’s simpler than that.” Orion slowed so Cody could catch up. “Control. They wanted to keep Holtgaard small and know exactly what everyone was doing. All those strict rules, the memories they scanned—it was all about control.”

“It brought peace. Safety.”

“It made people abandon their dreams. It stifled growth, change. Discovering new things, experiencing life—that’s the most beautiful thing there is. And they kept that from us.”

Maybe Orion had a point. “You didn’t let it stop you. I’ve always admired that. Even though… it’s cost you a lot.”

Orion grimaced. “I’d already lost a lot before that.”

Cody realized he didn’t know much about Orion’s family. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

Orion let out a deep breath. “It wasn’t just the village rules that held me back. It was mainly my parents. They were… protective. And just… paranoid.” He was quiet for a while. “My dad’s an astrologer. If he saw bad omens, we weren’t allowed outside. I listened to him until I was twelve or so, but eventually I got sick of it. That’s when the fights started. According to him, the stars at my birth foretold I carried chaos inside me—and that it could only be kept in check if I lived a life of strict order.” His voice deepened, and he raised a finger, mocking: “‘Stray from the path, and you’ll unleash the darkness.’” He snorted. “If he still remembered me, he’d definitely blame me for those lost memories. Anything that went wrong—even if it was the neighbor’s dog breaking its leg—it was my fault. I had, supposedly, strayed again.”

He spoke lightly, but Cody heard the pain in his voice and saw the tension in his shoulders. He placed a hand on Orion’s shoulder. “That sounds awful. What about your mom? Did she just go along with it?”

“She did.” He stared into the distance. “My father was grieving. I had a baby brother—briefly. Death took him from his cradle. And after that…” He shook his head, his shoulders drooping.

A sharp ache gripped Cody’s chest. He let his hand slide down until his fingers brushed Orion’s palm. He intertwined them and gave a gentle squeeze. He let the silence stretch, unsure whether to speak or just hold the space.

“I was four,” Orion said at last. “I don’t remember much. Just that after that, the house felt suffocating. Like I was afraid to breathe. My dad couldn’t understand how it had happened, how he’d missed the signs. Afraid something might happen to me, too, he went back to study the stars at my birth. But with grief clouding his mind, he interpreted everything differently. No longer hope, no spark of beautiful change. Just unrest and chaos, a storm ready to erupt at any moment.”

Cody brushed his thumb along Orion’s. He wondered if Orion had ever told anyone this before. He’d probably been alone too long.

“My mother believed his obsession was part of his grief. She wanted to give him space.” He shrugged. “Or maybe she believed him. I don’t know.” A bitter smile curved his lips. “Most of the time, I believe it too. Even if I don’t want to. But it’s always there in the back of my mind. Every time someone got close, every chance at friendship—I was afraid my chaos would destroy them. Like maybe I had—without knowing—killed my baby brother.”

Cody’s throat tightened. He stopped walking. “You—you don’t actually believe that, do you?” He paused. “The stars are just up there. They don’t tell us anything. They have no power over us.”

“I’ve often tried to believe that too. But still… I can’t quite shake it. And let’s be honest: my life did spiral into chaos. I was exiled, a forest spirit’s been stalking me for years, and the day after I see you again for the first time in ages—you get thrown into a ravine.”

“But I survived.” Cody squeezed his hand, taking the other one too. “Thanks to you. I don’t believe you bring chaos.” His cheeks flushed. “To me, you’ve always been a bright star. Someone you can’t stop looking at. Honest, brave, heart in the right place. Someone who doesn’t back down. Who draws your attention when everything around you feels dark. That’s why I looked for you, Orion. Because you’re the brightest star in the sky.”

Orion pulled his hand away. For a second, Cody panicked, afraid he’d said something too much, too flowery, too unbelievable.

Then Orion’s fingertips brushed his cheek.

Cody froze. His skin tingled.

“It’s a miracle the whole world isn’t in love with you.”

“Well,” Cody stammered, his heart pounding so hard it felt like the ground might shake. “I don’t say that to just anyone, you know.”

Orion chuckled and caught his gaze.

Cody’s knees nearly gave out—and he was sure they really would when Orion’s thumb traced his lips.

In a flash, he was back in the gardens behind the Academy. Orion’s breath brushed his lips, his scent made Cody dizzy. Somewhere, the music from the ballroom should’ve been playing—but all he could hear was his own ragged breathing.

“Stop,” he whispered.

He hadn’t said that back then.

But he did now.

It was a soft protest, yet Orion pulled his hand away. His green-blue eyes searched Cody’s face. “What is it?”

Cody took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “We should focus on other things. Getting the memories back. Finding your sister.”

Orion held his gaze. For a moment, he seemed to want to say something, but then he nodded and turned away to walk on. “You’re right.”

Cody missed his closeness instantly. He realized his skin still tingled from Orion’s touch. And that scared him a little—how much Orion affected him.

Fleur had never made him feel that way.

No fluttering nerves. No brain-melting chaos.

A rock landed at his feet. He looked up, scanning the steep cliffside.

At the top stood a small, sturdy figure. A smile tugged at the corner of Cody’s mouth. Ever the hopeless romantic, Moss had probably hoped for a kiss.

His eyes flicked to Orion, already walking ahead. His steps were slower than before. Everything he’d just shared echoed in Cody’s mind.

He bit his cheek. Words were just words. Had his actions said otherwise?

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Orion to kiss him. It just made him blood-nervous and he—he was scared.

He didn’t know how this journey would end.

But he did know Orion couldn’t return to Holtgaard, and Cody wasn’t sure if he was ready to leave it behind. Sooner or later, he’d have to choose. And that choice would only hurt more if he let himself be swept away by his feelings.

And not just that: he’d just found out his girlfriend had lied to him for years. Enchanted him. His choices hadn’t even been his.

For once, he wanted to belong to himself again—before he lost himself in another spell. Because what he’d just felt… that had felt like magic too. And he’d had no control over it.

He could still feel the trace of Orion’s touch on his skin. And the fluttering inside him hadn’t settled one bit.