The fire crackled softly, sending thin wisps of smoke curling into the cold gloomy night air. The flas flickered against the hollowed-out logs we used as seats, casting shifting shadows across our faces. The distant murmurs of the Wanderers had dulled into a background hum, their attention no longer on us.
But here, within our little circle, the silence was thick.
Jess exhaled, her fingers fidgeting slightly with the frayed edges of her worn sleeve. The hesitation in her body was almost tangible, like an invisible weight pressing down on her shoulders. Then, finally, she spoke.
"I wouldn’t be saying this if it weren’t for this ga." Her voice was quiet, asured.. like she was still debating whether to continue. "It’s a long story."
She sighed and raised a hand, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. The firelight caught on the sharp angles of her face, painting it in hues of orange and gold. But her eyes... they weren’t reflecting the warmth of the flas. They were distant. Cold.
"I was born in an orphanage," she began, voice calm but detached, as if reciting sothing from mory rather than reliving it. " and my twin sister."
She gave a small, humorless laugh.
"She died when we were two. I don’t even rember what she looked like."
A calm pause.
Jess tilted her head back slightly, staring up at the night sky as if searching for sothing in the emptiness above. Her lips parted, then pressed into a thin line before she continued.
"A few years later, the orphanage burned down." Her voice barely wavered, but her fingers curled slightly, gripping the hem of her coat. "Bandits set it on fire. They stord in after, killed the caretakers, killed the adults. Most of the kids didn’t even get the chance to run."
The fire popped, sending a few sparks spiraling into the air.
She inhaled deeply, the motion slow, controlled.
"So of us survived," she said. "A handful."
Her gaze dropped to the flas, watching them dance as if the past played out in the embers.
"The bandits took the ones who were left."
Jess’s posture stiffened, just for a second. Barely noticeable.
"We weren’t worth much to them. Just extra weight. We were hostages for a while, until knights raided their camp."
For a mont, she didn’t say anything. Then, she smiled... a bitter, sharp thing that barely touched her eyes.
"They ’saved’ us," she said, voice laced with sothing close to amusent. "Then they sold us."
Celia shifted beside . I felt it more than I saw it.
I didn’t move.
Jess let out another small laugh, quieter this ti.
"I didn’t mind," she admitted, shrugging slightly. "The people who bought … they were kind. A real family. They treated like I was their own."
Her fingers twitched against her knee.
"But then... "
She stopped.
A slow inhale. A slower exhale.
Her head dipped slightly, red strands of hair falling over her eyes. The firelight flickered, the glow of it catching in her irises, reflecting sothing heavy. Sothing unspoken.
"And then all of this happened," she murmured.
Her voice was quieter now, but the weight behind it wasn’t.
She didn’t cry.
She didn’t need to.
She just stopped talking.....
****
The night stretched on, the fire had burned low, reducing the once-bright flas to smoldering embers that pulsed in the dark like dying stars. The night stretched around us, heavy with silence, save for the occasional rustling of the wind through the trees. The scent of charred wood and damp earth clung to the air.
Jess hadn’t moved much since she stopped speaking earlier. She just sat there, knees drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around herself, her gaze locked onto the fire as if the past was flickering inside it.
Then, quietly... so quietly that for a second, I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it, she continued.
"I was in the woods," she said, voice calm, distant. "Fetching wood for the chimney."
Her fingers clenched slightly against her sleeves. The fire’s light caught in her orange eyes, reflecting sothing raw, sothing shattered.
"I heard the explosion first." Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "It was so loud… like the whole sky cracked open."
The embers popped. Jess blinked slowly, her breath shallow.
"When I got back, everything was gone."
Her voice didn’t rise, didn’t waver. It just ca out flat, like a blade dulled from overuse.
"The house. The family. Their children. The man and woman who raised . Everything."
The words hung in the cold air, sinking into the silence between us.
"There was nothing left. Not even bodies. Just ashes. Just…" She trailed off, fingers curling into a fist. "I couldn’t even see their faces one last ti. Couldn’t tell them thank you for taking in. Couldn’t tell them how happy I was... "
Her breath hitched. She bit her lip, hard enough that I saw the skin turn white.
"And do you know the worst part?" She laughed, but it wasn’t a laugh. It was empty. Broken.
She paused, as if forcing herself to say it out loud.
"The System… or whatever it is… it didn’t take with them."
A single tear slid down her cheek. Then another.
She didn’t sob, didn’t make a sound. But the silent way she cried... shoulders trembling just the slightest, breath unsteady, it was worse. It was the kind of grief that had been buried too long, pressing down on her lungs until she could only let it out in pieces.
I wanted to stand, unsure of what to say, but Celia was faster. She shifted, standing before lowering herself beside Jess, wrapping an arm around her. No words. Just quiet comfort, a hand running through her red hair in slow, steady motions.
"I just…" Jess’s voice cracked. "I just want to see them one last ti."
Celia’s response was quiet, firm.
"It’s going to be alright, Jess."
Jess didn’t answer.
I exhaled through my nose, glancing at Celia. Jess wasn’t the only one whose life had been torn apart. None of us had been spared from whatever cruel fate had thrown us here.
Happiness was always short-lived.
I stepped forward, crouching slightly, my hand resting lightly on Jess’s hair.
"It’s going to be alright," I murmured. It was all I could say. Anything else would have been more lies.
Jess didn’t react, but Celia t my gaze. I gave her a small nod... one she understood imdiately.
I’d leave them be.
Turning away, I walked through the loose arrangent of the camp, the makeshift shelters and scattered fires barely enough to keep the biting cold at bay. The Wanderers were scattered, so sitting in clusters, others keeping to themselves. Most faces were unreadable. So forced smiles. Others didn’t even bother.
And my expression was no better.
I kept walking, until..
"Agon."
A voice, smooth and familiar, called out to .
I turned.
Dark blue hair. Deep brown eyes.
Haran.
He was seated near one of the smaller campfires, his posture relaxed, the flickering light casting sharp shadows along his face. A smile played on his lips... too light, too casual, too friendly.
His hand lifted slightly, gesturing toward the empty space beside him.
"Would you like to have a drink with ?"
His tone was inviting, warm.
Too warm.
The kind of warmth that ca right before the knife slid between your ribs.
The most friendly people were always..
The most sinister....
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