Sammy and Julie left at dawn. Despite the marshy ground left behind by the heavy rain, the highway didn’t have so much as a puddle—Sammy going on about the ancient techniques developed in times of war for ferrying troops and supplies to ever-further battles. Julie hadn’t thought of roads as anything but stones in the ground, yet Sammy dug through to the foundations and built it up from there.

With such sure footing for the horses, they carried on making good time, following the road as it followed the mountain range, through villages and hamlets, the occasional town where larger streams flowed down from those mountains.

One day turned to two, rather quiet with Julie often thinking and Sammy leaving her to it.

As for what Julie was thinking about, naturally it was Sammy. Just not in a way she had thought of Sammy before. It now went without saying that, when Sammy bathed, Julie washed her back. And as if always greedy for more, Sammy now asked Julie to help brush out her hair before bed.

Sammy’s hair enthralled Julie. Even though it was greasy from their long time on the road, it felt so soft, the brush never catching on a single knot. More intoxicating, when Julie sat so close to brush, her every inhale carried with it Sammy’s scent, a smell she had slowly learned over their travels. It wasn’t a perfume or really a nice smell at all. Well, she knew it was Sammy’s sweat, yet didn’t mind. Maybe it would have been unpleasant to her long ago, but now it was familiar… addictive, even.

Sammy was addictive in all sorts of other ways too. As beautiful as Sammy’s eyes were, Julie often felt her gaze drawn to those precious lips instead. And with their childish kisses growing up, when behind closed doors, her hands sought out Sammy’s bare shoulders, sliding under whatever clothes Sammy wore, addicted to the little sounds Sammy made when she squeezed and massaged the soft skin therein.

So slightly different to before, yet it felt so much more; Julie couldn’t put words to what the feeling was.

Another day dawned and, waking up, Julie found it wasn’t enough to simply watch Sammy’s sleeping face. Her free hand reached out without thinking and played with Sammy’s hair. She was conscious enough to know to be gentle, just fiddling with the ends, careful not to tickle Sammy’s face.

When Sammy soon awoke, she joined in. Her hand combed through Julie’s hair, then her fingertips trailed from the back of Julie’s head to the neck, those ticklish nails sending a shiver down Julie’s spine.

“Good morning, ma sherie,” Sammy whispered, the touch of Sonlettian so warm and soft, such beautiful words to Julie’s ears.

“G’morning,” Julie said, smiling so sweetly.

Such enticing lips, Sammy rolled onto her elbow and leant in for a kiss. Though it was intended to be short, when she pulled back, Julie chased her, pulled her back in for more. Afraid her lover might never let her go, Sammy shuffled her kiss to the corner of Julie’s mouth, then whispered, “I need to pee.”

Despite Sammy saying that, Julie tightly embraced her—fortunately for only a moment.

By the time Sammy returned, Julie looked to have cooled off. However, no other pressing matters to attend to, Sammy wished to keep things heated. So she wrapped Julie in a hug and said, “I love you.”

Julie giggled, shyly burying her face into Sammy’s shoulder, the two gently swaying. “I love you too,” she said, muffled, yet Sammy heard those words clearly.

Until breakfast was served, Julie went through some exercises out back of the inn, Sammy watching once she finished her own morning routine. Many things changed. The scenery subtly changed, days ever so slightly lengthening, what food they ate, the bed they slept in. This bit of exercise had become a comfort to Julie, a thread that tied their journey to the distant past that became ever further away.

Of course, the rock that kept Julie from being swept away was still Sammy.

As they set off, Sammy said, “We are near the pass. There should be a town ahead where we can gather supplies.”

Julie frowned. “Is it a difficult pass to cross?” she asked.

“Not usually, but it floods on occasion,” Sammy said.

That did nothing to soften the wrinkles upon Julie’s brow. How a gap between mountains could flood, she couldn’t imagine. So she asked.

Only for Sammy to show her a mysterious smile and say, “You shall see.”

Julie was patient, but her thoughts kept returning to that. She thought about it the whole hour it took them to get to the town. It was a surprisingly large town, at least until they came to the broad river at its centre, flowing from the north and curving to the south-east. So wide, the other side was a whole other town, the buildings visibly different and so were the flags on the dockyards.

“The border of Sonlettier,” Sammy said.

Other than the impressive river, it was a bustling city of traders, full of Formadgian goods. But there was no need to stock up on those considering where they were heading, so they found a local bakery for a few Sonlettian breads and a local butcher for some salted meats.

What there wasn’t was cheap water. “Is the river too dirty?” Julie asked.

“Mm, something like that,” Sammy said.

Since the early mishap on their journey, they had only used water for cooking, so Julie didn’t think much more on the matter and they stocked up on some small beer and petty wine.

Although they usually would have visited a clothing shop too, they were in a hurry. So, resupplied, they set off north along the river. At first, Julie expected the river to curve to the east—there wouldn’t be enough streams to fill it with how close they were to the mountains. However, it carried on and on, following a valley, the mountains coming closer and closer, and the pieces finally fell into place.

“Does the river flow though the pass?” Julie asked.

Sammy gently laughed. “Indeed, it does.”

“So that’s how it can flood,” Julie mumbled, that question finally answered.

There were plenty more mysteries afoot, though. “Doesn’t this pass seem awfully straight?”

Julie stood up in her stirrups, looking as far ahead as she could and, well, she said, “Yes.”

“It’s very much believed that in times more ancient than we even know about, a great kingdom dug through this mountain. And that, on the other side, the sea swelled high enough to engulf Formadgo. We can only guess why they would dig through a mountain and guess why the kingdom’s influence didn’t linger in later ancient civilisations.”

Julie took another look ahead. If not for just how straight it was—and if not for the grand canals Schtat had dug—she wouldn’t have believed Sammy. “What do you think?” she asked.

“There is a simple answer that suitably satisfies the constraints,” Sammy said, only to stop herself there, aware she was beginning to speak as if to her old tutors. “The climate was very different back then and the winds mostly blew east, so the rain in these parts mostly came from all the way back by Battoh. Droughts would have been common.

“Then, a clever king might have learned there was water on the other side of the mountain. So he sent people to dig. Maybe slaves, maybe his own citizens. Once they managed to dig out a small canal, the water would have done the rest, grinding at the rock and stone as it rushed out of the sea, flooding the plains we just crossed.

“But there was salt in the water. They probably knew it couldn’t be drunk, but probably didn’t know it couldn’t be used to water crops. Whatever might have grown before would have died. However barren the lands might have been before, they would be lifeless now.

“It could take hundreds of years for the land to truly recover—how can a kingdom last even five without crops?”

Julie listened closely the whole time, drawn in as if listening to a story, Sammy’s voice clear and emphatic. And it was a believable story. Julie never lived near the sea, so, if she needed to water crops, she wouldn’t have thought twice about using sea water, didn’t have that common sense.

Still, when Julie gazed up at the steep slopes either side of the pass, it was hard to believe people had done any of it. She’d never been to a mine nor had she seen a landscape before a canal cut through it. At most, she’d seen forests cut back and small roads put down, the biggest change being the renovations that happened to the grounds of the Royal Palace every few years.

Changing the world was not something people did.

The river gurgled, horseshoes kept a beat on the paved road. Although there wasn’t the space for a highway, it was still a well-made road with plenty of traders along it, all heading the same way. On the water, many barges passed them heading downstream. So there was rarely an issue with two wagons going opposite ways, the traffic moving smoothly, just that it was at times awkward for Sammy and Julie to pass the slower wagons.

Halfway through, it turned out things would not stay so simple.

Sammy guided Faith closer to Julie and softly said, “There are… two, maybe three wild beasts on the other side.”

Julie showed no sign of fear, but her posture tightened up and she moved one hand to her waist—where Sammy knew she kept a dagger. “What do you think?” she asked.

After thinking it over, Sammy said, “They feel small, probably are wary of attacking the traders, and I doubt they are working together. If we go west out of the pass, we can deal with them away from other people.”

If Sammy thought that was best, Julie had no objection. “Okay.”

They had been keeping a modest pace to not tire out the horses, but now urged them on a little faster. Though it didn’t make much of a difference, still awkward to get around the wagons on the narrow road, they did make better time, leaving the pass under the midday sun.

Instead of following the “highway” beside the river, they took a steep dirt road, the valley carved by the river deep. This path climbed and climbed, then snaked through a forest that eventually thinned out on the edge of a meadow.

Sammy let out a sigh of relief and led them into the open area. Faith snorted as if to say she had plenty of energy still, and Sammy chuckled, leaning forward to give Faith’s head a rub, whispering, “Good girl.”

As always, Julie was quick to dismount and she offered a hand to Sammy. Not one to turn Julie down, Sammy took it, pulling Julie into a hug as she stepped down. There was a moment of tension, then Julie softened in her arms.

In silent understanding, Sammy took out the war bow and war arrows, Julie arming herself with a sword and shield and holding a spare sword if Sammy needed.

There was no need to ask where the wild beasts were, Sammy’s gaze flickering between where she felt them to be. A second became a minute, minutes, only a few and yet they felt like hours under the hot midday sun, especially after their hurried pace.

Then a shadow darker than darkness lurked amidst the shade. Julie only caught sight because she followed where Sammy stared, knew once that bow lifted there must be something there.

Like drums of war, Julie’s heart beat loud in her ear, yet she couldn’t seize up from the tension. No, she turned the other way and scanned along the trees’ shade there.

There wasn’t a twang when the arrow was loosed, the sound heavier, then the whistle of the arrow.

“Two left.”

Julie glanced back and saw a bright light in the shade—fire, a pure and brilliant white fire. There was no sputtering smoke, it didn’t spread. After a few seconds, it simply faded away as if burning itself up.

“North and west,” Sammy said, preparing another arrow.

Julie hesitated, her sense of direction not sharp after going along that dirt path, but reorientated by the sun, looking loosely north-west. One second, ten—

Thunk, the arrow whistled, a blur that crossed a hundred paces in a tick and a half.

As if waiting for that, another shadow leapt out from the shade, wolf-like, loping forwards on its thin legs, faster and faster, globs of corruption flinging off, and—

Sammy let loose another arrow, the tip bursting into a divine flame as it shot forward. The moment that flame touched the corruption, it caught as if hay, engulfing the wild beast, devouring it. Momentum carried the wild beast a few more paces before it crumbled to the ground, leaving nothing but the arrow behind once the fire had finished feasting.

Julie looked on numbly. Though her heart beat quick, it didn’t quite race, her mind empty, but ready to act, to react, to follow whatever orders Sammy gave.

No such orders came.

In silence, Sammy and Julie put away their weapons and shield and collected the war arrows—undamaged, just a bit stained black at the end. Then they mounted up.

The pressure off now, Julie looked around and caught sight of the incredible view. A little up the mountainside, she could see far, saw the vast fields of flowers, so vibrant and colourful after so long of seeing nothing but crops and pastures and woodland. Caught off-guard, she stared until Hope snorted. Collecting herself, she had Hope turn towards Sammy, only to find Sammy staring at her with a warm smile.

So the journey continued.

While the river had cut a narrow valley through Formadgo, they returned to the highway which now followed the natural terrain. As they went, Sammy told Julie many, many things about Formadgo, some she’d read in books, others from her pen pals who lived here.

“Formadgian flowers are always in high demand in Sonlettier for the social season—both for their natural beauty and as a status symbol.” “They used to have diets rich in fish and meat, but the sea and land here are fairly closed off and they overfished and overhunted many species to extinction, so even a common fish like a carp is priced at a luxury.” “Good friends greet each other with a kiss on the cheek, supposedly so they can whisper each other’s first name as it is considered rude to address a maiden by name in public.”

But one in particular particularly grabbed Julie’s attention.

“I’m sure I mentioned it before, but there is a chapel that supposedly bears witness to all vows. That said, I do not know if that simply means cases of mismatched status and, well, incest, rather than queer relationships,” Sammy said.

“Are we… going there?” Julie asked.

Smile bright and eyes brighter still, Sammy asked, “Do you want to?”

Julie didn’t know how to answer. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed to say she did, but because she didn’t know if it was on the way or not.

However, Sammy took the hesitation as reluctance, looking away to hide her dimming expression. “We may pass by it regardless. Our route is not so planned for this leg of the journey.”

The two on completely separate understandings, Julie perked up hearing that.

Silence followed, loud with horseshoes clacking, until the trees thinned and the sight they saw earlier greeted them: endless fields of flowers. Sammy’s mood hadn’t soured to a sulk, so she spoke some more of what she’d learned before.

“A lily is seen as necessary for a young woman’s début, representing her willingness to embrace motherhood. But it must be white to show her purity, whereas these”—the field of lilies beside them were pink—“would be for a girl’s birthday or tea party. Pink flowers usually mean youthfulness and are frequently used for boys’ birthdays too, but lilies are tied to Liliana and so seen as very feminine.”

Without thinking, Julie asked, “Did you have a white lily for your début?” Only when she heard Sammy’s giggle did she realise how weird of a question it was.

“I did not début. It is unusual to début before turning eighteen and not uncommon to début as late as twenty-three, or to even have a début later on if she is widowed and without children, in which case she will wear a grey lily made of fabric. That said, I have often worn pink lilies or roses when attending events.”

Julie almost didn’t believe Sammy. After all, a lot of the romance books she’d read had noble children being engaged any time from birth, often to marry as soon as the young maiden turned sixteen. But Sammy probably knew better.

Besides, the more Julie thought of it, she realised that, well, she was seventeen and, going by the books, would be married and probably with a first child by now. That genuinely unsettled Julie. There was always the knowledge in the back of her head that her mother died because of the early pregnancy, but only now did she realise how close fifteen and sixteen were, how close fifteen and seventeen were.

An afterthought, she realised that she never would have a child. That was a real relief. She didn’t know the first thing about being a mother, had no role model, had no one to turn to.

Even when her thoughts drifted to Sammy—as they often did—her resolve didn’t falter. Oh she was sure any child of Sammy’s would be utterly adorable and cute, but there wasn’t a spark inside her that desired to be the one to give Sammy that child. Well, if Sammy ever wanted a child, there were the orphanages.

But Julie didn’t imagine their future with any children. She still remembered what Sammy had told her all the way back in Hopschtat: of a quaint cottage by a stream, near to a village for convenience, but not too near to give some privacy. That seemed far too nice for her to share with even a child. She’d never been a selfish person, hard to be when growing up in a barracks, but their time travelling with Yewry had made it clear to her that she disliked sharing Sammy.

Once they passed the lily fields, they stopped at the village there for their midday break and meal. It catered to traders, plenty of stables and places to eat, Sammy inspecting a couple before settling on a stall that sold peetas.

So they ate and drank and Julie tended to the horses. It was, at least to her, strangely normal after their encounter with the wild beasts. But that was life. New things became familiar. Just as she grew used to being closer with Sammy, she grew used to the wild beasts.

As if Sammy could hear Julie’s thoughts, she said, “If the good weather holds, we should outpace the other wild beasts.”

Surprised, Julie asked, “There’s more?”

Sammy’s expression thinned, thinking over how to put to words the ethereal feelings. “Yes. Smaller ones, I can only tell when they are near, but larger ones I can tell where they are from farther away. Still, those ones have to be cautious in moving, otherwise troops will be rallied—the one that attacked the Royal Palace hardly took the trunk roads.”

Julie hadn’t really thought about it much. It was another surprise, though, until now thinking of the wild beasts as entirely mindless. But thinking back, the small ones had stalked them well. Earlier today, she wouldn’t have seen any if not for Sammy—would Sammy have seen them without her sixth sense?

“Fortunately, it seems they cannot easily cross the sea, so they are all to the west,” Sammy said. “We should make excellent time east and be able to stay ahead of them. It wasn’t necessarily my intention, but keeping to the two of us with such reliable steeds”—she patted Faith—“has been a large help.”

Unsure what to say to that, Julie nodded.

When the horses were rested, they carried on, following the highway north. It wasn’t far to a town where most of the lilies seemed to end up, wagons full of bundles heading east—presumably to the river. They didn’t see much else as they passed through without stopping.

Around them, the rolling landscape returned to the more familiar farmland. Young winter wheat swayed in the wind, tomato plants just poking out the soil, orchards of fruit trees, fields brimming with clovers and wild grasses for livestock feed.

It was easy to forget how far from home they were when Julie saw such sights. Dworfen had been strange, the style of buildings so different and landscape mostly forested with even the foods being unusual. But, here and in Sonlettier, she felt like she could see at any moment a signpost for Hopschtat.

That said, the buildings they’d seen here had a unique style. Julie thought they looked very old, at odds with what Sammy had told her about this whole country being underwater, but then she realised that old for houses and old for countries were very different things; the houses could be several hundreds years old and still be built after the Catastrophe.

There were no bricks, just cobblestone—not much different to the roads. Some buildings were smoothed over with mortar, most weren’t, countless shades of greys and browns making up the walls. The not-so-simple houses often had a covered patio with a table and chairs, decorated with bright flowers, older family members sitting there and chatting to whoever went by.

It wasn’t that people in Schtat were unfriendly, but Julie learned that Formadgian people were almost offensively friendly. Well, that was how Sammy described it, constantly fending off attempts at conversation, asking where they were headed, where they’d come from, did they want to come meet a son/nephew/cousin/grandson.

After slowly passing through a particularly crowded village, it was the first time Julie had ever seen Sammy look so frustrated. “Really, my Formadgian isn’t so good that I can talk to a dozen people at once,” she muttered.

Julie giggled, covering her mouth to try and keep Sammy from hearing. But Sammy had sharp ears, especially for any sounds Julie made, turning to look at Julie. Seeing Julie’s good mood, Sammy could hardly stay annoyed and chuckled too.

“In the next village, let us share a kiss to quiet them,” Sammy said.

It spoke of how much Julie had grown that she took Sammy seriously and was about to agree when Sammy broke into another laugh.

“Ah, are you getting used to my teasing?” Sammy asked. “I shall have to find other ways to have you make cute expressions.”

It turned out that saying that was one such way, Julie ducking her head, a subtle blush tingeing her tanned cheeks.

By the last of the day’s light, they had yet to glimpse the sea. However, Sammy promised tomorrow would see them to its edge, from there many boats travelling along the coast. For tonight, they stayed at an inn—despite several more attempts from middle-aged women to introduce them to male relatives.

A small room with a single bed. Sammy lit the candle with divine fire, then hummed a tune for them to dance to. How they danced was second-nature by now. Neither really led or followed, more just responding to each other as they gently swayed. Eventually, they slowed, Sammy pulling Julie even closer to kiss the side of her neck, light and ticklish kisses that could only be stopped by Julie sealing those mischievous lips with her own.

Between these kisses, Sammy said, “Lia,” her voice breathless, deeper, so very needy.

“I love you,” Julie whispered.

Sammy smiled, leaving the next kiss on the corner of Julie’s mouth. “I love you too.”

Although their passion cooled, they stayed close with Julie’s arms tightly wrapped around Sammy, who didn’t mind. This kind of intimacy was incredible too. She struggled to understand how exactly Julie felt towards her, but she felt some honesty in this closeness. That this wasn’t an innocent embrace between friends.

After a while, they broke apart. Sammy bathed first and Julie helped wipe her back and brush out her hair. When it was Julie’s turn, though, she let out an awkward sigh that piqued Sammy’s worry.

“Is something wrong?” Sammy asked.

“Nothing. Well, I’m spotting,” Julie said, her thoughts a bit scattered. “What day is it?”

After a second, Sammy said, “Twenty-seventh, so a day late?”

Julie sighed again.

“I’ll make sure to spoil you lots,” Sammy said.

Just like that, Julie’s expression warmed up, softly smiling. “You won’t spoil me the rest of the month?” she asked.

“I’ll spoil you in different ways.”

Julie snorted—there definitely was no winning when it came to arguing with Sammy.

True to her word, after Julie washed and prepared for the night, Sammy began spoiling her. They lay down with Julie nestled in Sammy’s arms and Sammy gently rubbed her abdomen. When Julie said she didn’t have any cramps, Sammy simply said, “You’re welcome,” and continued to keep away any cramps that dared to come near her precious jewel.

Though it would have been a waste to fall asleep so soon, Julie struggled to stay awake. Even without the soothing massage, Sammy’s breaths brushed against her ear, focused on the sound to the point her mind stayed clear, her own breathing naturally coming to match every inhale and exhale.

So it wasn’t long before Sammy felt all tension leave her lover. Smiling to herself, she left a kiss on the back of Julie’s head.