The capital's edge had its quiet corners—rare, tender things overlooked by all the bustle and cobblestones. Past the school gates, behind a low fence and through a break in the ivy wall, there was a path of trodden grass that led to the riverbank.
Revantra had found it a few weeks ago when she was trying not to throw a fireball at one of the professors. She'd claid it as hers the mont she saw it: a crooked willow tree bent like it was eavesdropping on the world, a flat rock to sit on, and the kind of silence that didn't ask for explanations.
Today, she wasn't alone.
Elias sat beside her, close but not too close, boots stretched out in the dirt, dical bag at his side. The sun was golden and warm, and the city beyond sounded far away. Too far for danger. Close enough to return to, if needed. The river lapped gently at the moss-covered edge, reflecting the two of them in watery blur.
"Hey," Revantra said suddenly, voice thoughtful. "Do you think people with fire magic are always warm-blooded?"
Elias blinked. "Uh... I an, probably? Technically, their core temperature—"
"Because I keep sweating through my school blouse and I'm blaming biology now, not puberty."
Elias choked on a laugh. "That's fair. Biology is a coward anyway."
Revantra smirked, then leaned forward to toss a pebble into the water. It skipped once, twice—then imdiately sank.
She made a face. "Just once, I want a magic pebble that skips fifty tis and explodes into flower petals. You know, sothing charming and narratively satisfying."
Elias looked over. "You've been reading Theo's magical girl comics again, haven't you?"
She shrugged. "He leaves them lying around. Also, so of the outfits are strategic genius."
They shared a soft laugh, and then the silence returned—not awkward, not pressing. Just the kind that made you aware of your own heartbeat.
Revantra's fingers trailed along the edge of the stone. Her hair, longer now, tangled with the breeze and fell into her eyes. She brushed it back without thinking, then pulled her knees up to her chest.
"If I had to choose," she said, slowly, almost like she didn't realize she was speaking, "between being Queen of Fla and... just your student..."
She paused. Looked down at her knees. "I'd choose this. Every ti."
Elias turned, surprised not by the sentint but the softness in her voice. It wasn't her usual sharp sass or forced bravado. It was real, quiet, like she was afraid of breaking sothing just by saying it aloud.
Revantra leaned her head gently against his shoulder.
A light breeze passed. Her weight wasn't heavy. Just... present.
Elias didn't move. His throat felt tight in a way that wasn't unpleasant, just too full. Like all the feelings he'd been collecting—worry, fondness, guilt, protectiveness—had tangled into sothing unnaable.
" too," he said softly.
Revantra made a small, surprised sound in the back of her throat, almost like a hiccup of emotion. She didn't pull away. Instead, she tucked a hand under her chin and let herself stay there, warm against him.
They sat like that for a long ti.
Later, after the sun dipped lower and the sky turned the color of spilled berries, Revantra began making grass crowns.
"I'm not saying I'm good at it," she warned, weaving clumsily, "but these might be enchanted. If you start craving lava, don't panic."
Elias chuckled. "Noted."
She handed him one. It was crooked, lopsided, and held together by sheer willpower and a knot made with her teeth.
"Ta-da," she said proudly.
He wore it. Without protest. Like it was royal regalia.
Revantra squinted at him. "You actually pull it off."
"You sound disappointed."
"Just confused."
They grinned at each other.
Then Elias said, a little more serious, "Do you ever think about... what cos next?"
Revantra tilted her head. "Like after dinner?"
"I an after this—after school, after the cults, after the Church... after we're not constantly trying not to die."
She hesitated, then said, "I used to think there was only one road for . Rule, destroy, rebuild, repeat. Be feared, or be forgotten. That was it."
"And now?"
She looked out at the water.
"Now I think... maybe I could be happy. Just stupidly, boringly happy. You'd be in so healing clinic, lecturing kids on bone alignnt. Theo would be setting things on fire in a lab—hopefully legally. I'd be..." Her brow furrowed. "I don't know. Teaching? Gardening? Sleeping a lot?"
"Soup-burning champion of the realm," Elias suggested.
She nudged his side with her elbow. "That too."
The stars were coming out now. A few, shy and blinking. Revantra looked up.
"There's still so much of I don't rember," she said. "Things are trickling in now. Faces. Commands. Screams. But I don't want to go chasing them."
"Then don't," Elias said simply.
"But what if I need to? What if they co looking for again?"
He turned toward her, expression serious now.
"Then we'll deal with it. Together. You're not alone anymore, Revantra."
Her breath caught.
Then she said, softly, "I like when you say my na like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're not afraid of it."
"I'm not."
A pause. Then, almost bashful, she added, "I'm kind of afraid of how much that ans to ."
Elias took her hand. Not tightly. Just enough.
"I think that's what growing up feels like."
They sat in silence again, but this one was different. Heavier. Fuller.
"I'm scared, Elias," she whispered. "Of becoming her again. Of losing in all the noise."
He squeezed her fingers. "You're not her."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know you," he said. "You get jealous over soup. You like dumb comics. You're awkward about hugs and bad at apologies. You burn toast and call it a defense chanism."
Her lips twitched. "It was."
"You're also brave," he continued. "And smarter than you let on. And... kind. In your own chaotic, borderline terrifying way."
She didn't speak for a while.
Then, with her head still against his shoulder, she said, "I'm glad I t you."
Elias smiled. "Sa."
"Even if I was an unstable, power-hungry magical child when we t?"
"Especially because of that."
They laughed together.
And under the willow tree, by the soft current of a sleepy river, the forr Demon Queen chose—quietly, fully—to stay.
Not just for tonight.
But for whatever ca next.
To be continued...
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