After the last hunt, they had returned to their hideout, the only place where they felt more or less safe for the night. It was already their second evening there — and, for once, dinner tasted like victory.
A real feast awaited them.
They were sharing the remaining elk at hunted that morning. They’d salvaged all four legs — two had been devoured at dawn, and the other two were already roasting over the fire, their fatty aroma filling the makeshift shelter.
Maggie sat alone, perched on a rock a bit off to the side, arms resting on her knees, keeping a close eye on her portion of at as it grilled just the way she liked it — slowly, evenly, until the sll was strong enough to wake the appetite of a dead man. The fire crackled softly in front of her, casting dancing light across her closed-off face. Not a word escaped her lips.
Dylan had settled a little further away, out of the commander’s line of sight, enjoying one of the rare monts of calm without pressure. Élisa had slipped in beside him, a chunk of at in one hand, the other resting idly on his knee.
"You know," she said while chewing leisurely, "this world might be rotten, but it still has a few interesting bits."
Dylan raised an eyebrow, curious. "Like what?"
She took her ti to swallow, then turned toward him, eyes gleaming with that spark she always had when about to tell so improbable story.
"For example... did you know there’s an entire continent here that humans have only explored about five percent of — and that’s over a thousand years?"
Dylan stayed silent, his expression frozen.
"It’s so huge you could walk your whole life and never reach the end. And what’s still unknown over there... it’s dizzying. There are stories about plants that could make spirit essence absorption look like child’s play, or fruits that can rejuvenate even the dying."
She paused, bit into another piece of at, then continued:
"That’s why so many expeditions have been launched over the years. Most failed, of course. But human stupidity knows no bounds... So eventually the most powerful guilds set up base camps along the borders. Built their HQs right there, just to get closer to the mystery. To gather intel before making another push."
Dylan frowned. "And no one ever ca back?"
Élisa let out a short laugh.
"Oh, so did. Just enough to make fools dream... and wise n shudder."
She leaned toward him slightly, lowering her voice.
"Little fun fact: only those who’ve reached Ascension are allowed to step onto that continent. The rest? Hopeless. Rumor has it the place is basically a continent of demons."
Dylan swallowed slowly, tension creeping into his posture.
"Charming."
Élisa smiled. "Right? I think it’d be cool to go there soday."
He stared at her, incredulous. "You’re serious?"
"Why not?" she replied with a shrug. "Every awakened dreams of going. But to do that, you’ve gotta reach Ascension first. And that road... it takes more than guts. You need talent — and a hell of a lot of resources."
She looked up at the mist, as if she could see through it.
"But hey, not everyone’s got the backing of major clans or big guilds."
Dylan sighed. He glanced down at his sleeve, still stained with dried black blood.
"Hope it doesn’t ss with your dream too much, but right now I’m just trying to survive one demoness. Thinking about stepping into a place crawling with millions of them?"
He looked back up at her, a tired light in his eyes.
"Let’s save that for later."
Élisa looked at him in silence for a few seconds, then started to laugh. A soft, breathy laugh, almost caught in her throat. Not mocking — genuinely amused.
"I swear, Dylan... you try so hard to act jaded, but deep down, you’re still a kid with dreams."
He raised an eyebrow, mildly defensive. "I just said I didn’t wanna die. That’s not a dream, that’s a survival plan."
She shrugged, biting into her at again without breaking eye contact.
"Call it what you want. But if you really didn’t care anymore, you wouldn’t have that spark in your eye whenever we talk about Ascension... or the unknown."
Dylan looked away. She’d hit the mark. And he hated that.
"That’s not a spark," he muttered. "It’s just the firelight."
Élisa burst out laughing this ti, openly, eyes glinting with mischief.
"You don’t need to turn into a poet just to deny it, you know. I’ve told you before, Dylan. You’re not ant to be buried under so tragic past forever. You’re the kind who wants to see what’s behind the mist. Even if you’re scared."
He opened his mouth to fire back... then stopped himself.
Instead, he stared at the embers for a mont. The flas writhed like scattered thoughts. And maybe she was right.
Maybe part of him did want to see further.
Either way, it wasn’t sothing he could think about right now. He didn’t even know if he’d survive until the next full moon — or even tomorrow. So those dreams — Ascension, world mysteries, unexplored continents — they could wait.
For now, there were simpler priorities. More urgent ones.
He and Élisa had to absorb the spiritual essence from their anima gems. They may have lost a few minutes to talking, but ti hadn’t slowed. If anything, it had sped up. Night had fallen without warning.
It was late. Very late.
Dylan felt fatigue sliding into his limbs like a soft poison. But this wasn’t the ti to rest.
They exchanged a look.
No words needed.
They each moved away from the fire a little, each finding a flat rock, a quiet corner far enough apart to focus without distraction. Dylan sat down, crossed his legs, and pulled the still-warm gem from his pocket.
Élisa did the sa across from him.
Silence settled in, broken only by the crackle of flas and the distant sigh of wind threading between the gravestones.
And the two of them began.
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