The stories were grand. Adventures of their homeland, of Varin’s small village a few regions away, and of the tales that helped them grow. They had a fire dancing in a pit near the sand, blowing embers around as the wind picked up slightly. Each story ended in laughter, talking about the ways they first harmed themselves, about the first time they took a risk in life, and the first time they discovered who they were. Varin felt comfortable, but he was not sure if that was from the mead or the good conversation.

“And your home life?” Adeline asked, her eyes wide and brows raised. “Where is this land you say you grew up on?”

Her long hair was let loose of that braid from earlier, strands of brown curled into little twists and waves. With each gust of wind from the water, her hair would blow in front of her face but she paid little mind to it. A graceful woman, one that managed to almost distract from the Princess he was supposed to be working tirelessly to save. Grimacing at the thought, he took a sip of his drink and sighed.

“A few days travel, that is for sure.”

“Far away, is it?”

He nodded. Lowering his stare to the ground, he recalled the time he first traveled to Traburg. It was after his father passed years prior, his mother descending into a sense of insanity after his younger sister ran away with some boy. The family fell apart in the course of two evenings, and her mother told him to go to Traburg. She never would tell him why, but said it was a divine thing--something that he was supposed to do. Varin regretted leaving, he regretted not taking his mother with him. She refused, though, there wasn’t much he could do to change her mind. His end goal was still the same despite the time that had passed, to find his way back home and save his family name.

“Far away in many ways, Adeline.”

“How did you make it to Traburg, then?”

“Boat.” Varin sighed and stood, kicking up some dirt as he approached the fire and warmed his hands. “A long, long boat ride.”

She hummed, her eyes trailing after him as he moved. “Where is this land?”

“A region called Cremisi, I grew up with snowy mountains surrounding and lakes only made of ice. It was harsh, but it was beautiful.”

Standing to her feet, Adeline joined him alongside the fire and reached a hand up to his shoulder. “You miss your home, I understand that. But you are accomplishing great things here, Varin!”

He chuckled under his breath, his stare stuck on the flames that blew sporadically with the wind. “Forgive me for asking, but how do you understand? Is Traburg not your home?”

“Not in the slightest.” She said and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Consider me orphaned.”

Varin looked at her, his lips parted and brow furrowed. “My apologies, Adeline. I just assumed from your stories…”

“That I grew up fortunate with the stories only a family can give? Here is the thing, Varin,” Adeline said and leaned closer, “families can be by blood, or families can be by choice. I chose.”

Varin smiled subtly, nodding his head, and reached up to remove her hand from his shoulder. Although they parted, their fingers lingered for a moment, intertwined and warm. “A wise choice, I presume.”

“My blood was not an option. I spent most of my childhood with thieves, bandits, and assassins. Trust was a skill of survival to me, and knowing when somebody was a liar could mean I survived to see another day.”

Varin flashed a brow and nodded. “Assassins? Do you know how to fight?”

“I know how to kill, Varin.”

A wave of remorse washed over him. With flashes of Cateline falling to her knees, he recalled how her skin grew as pale as the moon and eyes as blank as stone. The only color left to her was that golden aura that ribboned around her skin, energy that reminded him she was not yet gone. He doubted how long he had, and he doubted Leolina’s plan.

“Killing does not come easy, does it?” He said in a whisper, closing his eyes to ease the vertigo that overcame him. The world around him was spinning, and although he stood as still as a rock, he felt like his knees would give way to a wave of dirt beneath his feet.

“Varin, are you alright?” Adeline asked, her eyes glancing over his face with concern. “You’ve grown pale.”

“Just the mead,” Varin responded, opening his eyes once the dizziness calmed.

She hummed and bit her lip, looking around as if to make sure nobody was watching. Varin eyed her with a curious stare, following her line of focus as she eyed the tents scattered around the decrepit city. Daggernest was dark, only pits of fire illuminating at the temporary camps as people rebuilt their homes.

“Would you like to know a secret, Varin?”

“What is it?”

“Magic. Quite literally, magic. I can make you feel better.”

Varin’s jaw dropped, eyeing her up and down. “Magic? You know… magic?”

She smiled a goofy little grin, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him towards the tree line. “Why don’t we find out together? A bit of fun, and it will ease your nerves.”

Varin looked down at the bottle he held, chewing on the tip of his tongue before setting it in the sand, giving way to her childish tugs as they disappeared into the woods. She was practically skipping around the roots that sprawled from the dirt, her free hand touching each tree base they passed. He wondered if he had been bewitched again, for the air surrounding Adeline glowed like a halo. She illuminated the path, black locks of hair curling at the ends and falling just above the small of her back.

When he blinked, though, she was gone. Her hand had slipped through his like fine grains of sand, his breath catching in his lungs as he spun around. The world was still spinning, each limb serving as an obstacle as he tried to retrace his steps. He felt trapped, reaching up to rub at his eye sockets to try and clear his vision.

“Varin?” the honeysuckle voice echoed. As he spun around again, he was met with the face of a goddess, as if she had never left. She looked at him with bemusement, reaching up a hand to rest it against his forehead. “You’re acting a tad mad, and arguably have a fever.”

Instinctively, he leaned into her hand as she felt his forehead, quickly retreating once he realized what he was doing. Adeline dropped her arms to her side and smiled at him, watching as he rubbed the sweat from his brow.

“I do think I’ve fallen ill.”

She hummed, flashing her eyebrows before waving him further into the forest. He slowly followed, pinching his palms to try and keep himself grounded in reality. Eventually, they came to a clearing that housed great oak trees and large groupings of shrubbery. On the opposite side was a river, the stream splashing against the rocks that nestled in the sand. Two trees formed a natural canopy over it, the crescent moon centered in the opening.

“Welcome to my magic,” she said and sighed. “Here, nobody can bother me and tell me how I ought to live my life. Isn’t it serene?”

He walked to the water and kneeled down, splashing some of the water in his face to ease his nerves. “I envy the silence.”

In the distance, he could hear the hooting of an owl and the chirping of a sabertooth deer. He had never seen a sabertooth deer in person, they were rare in the frosty climate of his homeland. Cremisi was as slick with ice as Axulran was rumored to be, the sun only defrosting their grounds long enough to farm some produce and cattle.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go back for some rest?” she asked after a second. “You scared me a bit a few moments ago, you seemed as if you had seen a ghost.”

Varin turned his head to peer at her over his shoulder, smiling subtly before standing. “I think there are many things haunting me as of late, but unfortunately none as petty and insignificant as a ghost.”

Adeline hesitated, joining him alongside the river as she studied his features carefully. Watching her inquisitive eyes, he nodded for her to speak her mind. There were so many unspoken questions he knew she was keeping quiet.

“Such a warrior,” she whispered. “What is haunting you?”

“Warrior?” He chuckled and tore his stare away. “I have never been to battle. To be frank, I do not think I ever will be. I have more pressing matters on my plate.”

“That girl.”

“What about her?” Varin didn’t need clarification. He knew exactly which girl Adeline was referencing.

“She is a battle. You slew a witch that sought to burn the largest city in the kingdom, showing remorse is part of that battle.”

“Cateline was not the war I was after.”

“So, what is there to do about it?”

“You’re quite the inquisitive one, you know.” Varin scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, and turned to look at her once more. “It is of no matter to you, regardless.”

Instead of taking offense, Adeline straightened her posture and shot him a toothy grin. “I have been told me incessant pestering would get me killed. That being said, I have many more questions for you, Varin. You are as intoxicating as a large glass of wine.”

Lowering his stare to the water, he nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. “Then you can ask away. However, I request that it be another night.”

“Alas, what am I to do in the meantime? Journal like a wonderstruck woman dreaming of her prince?” Adeline asked, sardonic tones dripping from her tongue teasingly.

“A daydream is fuel for the largest fires in our minds, Adeline. Why not write it down?”

She let out a laugh so divine, it made his ears perk up. She began to walk towards the path, calling for him to follow so they could make their way back home. Just as he was about to turn, he caught a flickering image of beauty glisten in the stream. The water nearly froze as the image became clearer, icy blue eyes looking at him from the circular segment of water that remained as still as a canvas. With lips as rosy as wine and skin as pale as snow, he let out a choked gasp.

“Varin? Are you coming?” Adeline called out, her voice growing muffled as the distance grew larger. Looking towards her, he watched as the depiction of Cateline replaced Adeline just long enough that it struck him.

“Cateline?” he breathed. Making long strides, the figure kept on towards the tree line, and a tune hummed in the confines of his mind. It was like there was a woman whispering a song into his ear, but he was alone. Approaching her, he grabbed her by the wrist and forced her to look at him.

She was glowing, a radiant and icy figure that cocked her head in his direction. Her hair was as dark as the night and her lips rosy and plump. Her cheeks flushed as she removed her hand from his grasp, taking the last of the remaining steps towards him. She spoke, the words entering into the atmosphere like a ringing bell. It calmed him and brought him back to the ground in a humbling tone.

“Varin,” the vision said. “I have missed you.”

She was beautiful; the perfect embodiment of grace and desire in a woman. He let the air out of his lungs, for she was not a figment of his imagination. She had escaped the grasp of death and returned to him. The hand that once held her wrist in his now felt cold. A witch of ice felt so warm in his hold. Such an alluring creature in nature, and gleamed the way a ray of moonlight would.

“My soul is yours,” she continued, “but it is hidden in the iciest peaks of Axulran. There, and only there, will our hearts be set free.”

“Where?” he asked, hopelessly grasping at the sleeve of her gown. “What icy peaks?”

Varin’s vision grew hazy, Cateline smiling up at him with such kind eyes that comforted his anxieties. As things shifted in and out of focus, he came to the sad realization that it was yet another ruse.

Cateline disappeared before his eyes as his vision failed him, only returning once he was alone. Swallowing a hard lump, he dropped his empty hands to his side and began to shuffle toward the entryway of the forest. There, Adeline awaited him patiently.

“Now, tell me, Varin. When am I to see you again?”