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And finally... finally the tranquilizer kicked in. The boar’s head wobbled. Limbs buckled. It groaned, swayed...
And collapsed. Silence fell.
Only Muse’s heavy, furious snorts and Zephyr’s sharp, ragged breathing filled the corridor. Fenna lowered her bow slowly, checking Zephyr with wide eyes.
"You okay?" she asked, voice cracking slightly.
Zephyr coughed and gave her a tired thumbs-up from where he lay sprawled in the ash.
The Ember-Tusk Boar twitched once... then stilled completely.
Zephyr clutched his injury and bleeding hip, wincing as the pain flared hot through his nerves. His tunic had been sliced open by the tusk’s edge, the fabric charred and stuck to his skin. Blood ran in thin rivulets down his thigh, glistening dark against the ash coated ground.
Fenna was at his side in an instant, sliding to her knees in a fluid motion that kicked up a swirl of soot. "Let see it," she said, her voice tight with concern for Zephyr wellbeing.
ARGH! ARGH! ARGH!
Zephyr hissed as she peeled the scorched cloth away, revealing the wound beneath it. The gash was angry and red. It was half burn, half slice. The tusk hadn’t gone deep, but the skin had been seared in a jagged arc.
"I’ve had worse, compared to previous raptor injury on my hand, it is nothing." he muttered through his teeth, though the grimace tugging his lips said otherwise.
This ti Fenna didn’t reach for herbs or bandages. She knew there was no point in that. She got better ways. Although she never tried it on soone else. But she can’t look at the only person she loved the most in pain.
Instead of herbs, her hand hovered above the wound, palm open, eyes narrowing in focus. A soft flicker of fla pulsed to life along her fingertips. It wasn’t the usual orange yellow blaze of firewood, but sothing older, deeper.
A fla that curled in deep crimson with veins of molten red and orange, its heart a star-white spark that did not flicker or fade. It floated just above her palm like a living thing. It was gentle and yet impossibly intense.
Zephyr blinked. "Wait... what is that?"
"True phoenix fire," Fenna whispered, her tone reverent. "The Ember Matron gave it to . It heals, if I want it to heal."
Zephyr’s breath caught. He’d seen her throw sparks, coat her arrows in heat, even scorch bark off trees. But this was... sothing else. This was a divine power.
The fla hovered an inch above his skin, and even though it should have burned, it didn’t. The searing pain in his hip began to ebb— not as if soothed, but as if the wound itself were unhappening, thread by thread, cell by cell.
He could feel it. Not numbness but warmth. It was Restoration of flesh.
"Fenna... it’s—" His words faltered. He was watching ti rewind. Watching flesh knit back together with no scar, no bruise, not even dried blood left behind.
Fenna exhaled slowly as she guided the fire along the wound’s curve, her hand trembling slightly from the concentration it took. When it was done, she began to close her fingers around the fla, and it started to blink out like an ember caught by wind.
Zephyr stared at the spot where the wound had been. His skin there was smooth. Whole. Even the lingering ache had vanished.
He looked up with wide eyes, voice hushed and full of awe. "That wasn’t healing. That was... like rebirth. Are you okay?"
Fenna didn’t answer right away. Her breath ca a little fast, her cheeks flushed— not from embarrassnt, but from the energy it had cost her to call upon that divine fla. She swayed slightly as the last ember of her true phoenix fire curled into her palm and vanished into her skin.
Then she gave him a tired smile, soft and radiant, like the sun breaking through morning fog. "It takes a lot out of ," she admitted, brushing a strand of soot-damp hair from her brow. "But I’ll manage. Just try not to make a habit of getting skewered."
Zephyr chuckled breathlessly. He was still sitting on the ash covered ground, his hand resting where the wound had just been—a wound now gone, erased by sothing far more intimate than dicine. His heart was thudding louder than it should have.
"No promises," he said, eyes locking with hers, his voice a little more playful. "Who wouldn’t want to be taken care of by a beautiful girl?"
Fenna blinked, surprised—then snorted through her nose in the way she only did when caught between flattery and amusent. "Flirt," she murmured.
"I’m serious," Zephyr said, more gently now. His hand reached for hers, fingers brushing the back of her wrist, where the last warmth of the fire still lingered. "I’ve never seen anything like that. Never felt anything like that."
Fenna didn’t pull away.
The forest had gone quiet around them, save for the crackle of ember-leaves overhead and Muse’s heavy breath in the background. The ash carried a strange peace, and in that silence, they both leaned in closer without aning to. Not quite touching lips but close enough for breath to mingle.
She tilted her head just a little. "You make it hard to stay focused, you know."
"Good," he murmured. "ans I’m doing my job as your..."
Fenna smirked. "Your job is to train, hunt, and keep your beast from eating the camp. Not to woo the girl who saves your life."
"Can’t it be both?"
That ti, her laugh was real. She leaned back with a slow exhale, drawing strength into her limbs again. "Maybe. But only if you kiss after we clean up."
Zephyr raised a brow. "That’s a promise?"
She didn’t answer— just stood and offered her hand to help him up. He took it without hesitation, and when he rose, his body felt lighter, not just from the fire’s healing touch, but from the fire in her eyes.
They weren’t just friends/lovers anymore. Not really.
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