Chapter Text
"Ari?... I can hear your voice calling out in my mind. What has happened?"
Ari couldn't respond, her body heavy and a sleep-like state took over her entire body, weighing her down physically and mentally. Her eyes wanted to open, but felt glued closed. Her fingers twitched at her side, the power of the sealing scroll keeping her bound to the ground.
"Ari! Hold on, I am coming to save you!"
There is suddenly a strong presence right behind her, ancient like, strong and powerful. She feels the pressure on her release, her body falling forward before an arm curls around her waist, keeping her from falling. Ari's eyes fluttered open for a minute before she turns behind her. Standing there was a half human, half dragon. His beige like skin and golden eyes, plus the white horns protruding from the top of his skin had her reaching for her sword out of instinct.
"Ari... thank goodness you are okay." He whispers, reaching out to her, helping her stand.
"Caldarus?..." Ari whispers, eyes looking over his garments, his teal tunic, red scarf, and the long, whipped white tail swishing behind him.
His eyes close, as he brings his hand to his head, "I do not have much strength left, I must retreat to my temple within the Deep Woods... Use your new spell to clear the way and join me there."
Ari's eyes squint at the bright purple light that envelopes the cave, hand shielding her face as she looks away for a moment. When she turns back, Caldarus is gone, and the door to the lava caves is open.
The hand that held the sealing scroll was gone.
Ari scrambles to the elevator, hitting the ground floor as it begins pulling her up. Her breath finally returned to her as she started panting, she had almost... almost been a goner. She lets out a shaky sigh, and waits for a minute till she's back on ground level, and safe. She uses her mana, summoning her familiar. A black horse is summoned and she holds onto it as she walks out towards the mine's exit. She is holding onto her Mistmare, trudging out of the mine's entrance when she sees Olric and March at the outside of it.
"Ari!" Olric said, running towards her, "Balor told us you might be in trouble, but wouldn't give us details. We've been looking all over for you, are you okay?"
Ari nods, her breath shaky and not able to respond, but March notices the look in her eyes.
Like she had just gotten done facing death.
"Ari-" He starts, taking a step forward but she snaps her head towards him, "I'm fine!" She barks, and jumps on her horse, trotting past them.
He reaches out for her one more time, "Hey-"
"I said I'm fine!" Ari snaps, "I gotta go!" Ari rides off, both brothers watching her with concerned faces.
"Wonder what happened down there..." Olric whispered, "She seems spooked."
"..." March shrugged, letting it go. She had been in Mistria for a little over a year already, she had more than proven herself and didn't need to talk about anything she didn't want too. He grabbed his pick-axe and looked at his brother, "Well, let's get to work."
XxXxXxXx
It was late at night, when everyone was at the Inn for dinner. Ari approached the large, thick thorns blocking her path to the deep woods. She sighed as the cool night summer air kissed her skin, and she prayed she wouldn't ruin that moment with the fire she was about to summon. She channeled her energy and mana into her, focusing and imagining the flames she wanted to appear. After preparing the spell for a few minutes, she felt a heat overtake her body. Her green eyes turned a golden yellow, and she blew, a huge burst of fire flew out of her mouth in a large, continuous stream. The vines and thorns quickly caught fire, turning black and deteriorating before her. The yellow and red flames reflected in her eyes, and Ari was sure if anyone saw her they'd mistaken her for a monster.
When the spell was over, two of her spell slots were consumed. She grimaced, it would take half a month for her spell slots to replenish. She took her feet towards the steps, minding the damaged vines around her that continued to burn and wilt to the sides. As she continued up the stairs and onto the path, she noticed how much taller and darker the trees were here. There was a fork in the road, and instead of heading right where a big tree stump blocked her way, she went left. She would do some scavenging and exploring. She dug up some pleat and found some smaller thorn vines, and some new spirit mushrooms, and began uprooting them. As she walked along the lake, she found loads of wild Iris, and began picking them as well.
It is when she ventures further, however, that her mood starts to change. Four stone pillars gave way to an entrance, an entrance she thought to be to the temple which her dragon friend lay. But what she found instead made her stomach drop.
It was a graveyard.
Grave markers piled some trees too high she couldn't read them, so she settled for the lower ones first. The one on the right, she kneeled down out of respect and read the following:
"In loving memory: Greta, of Sweetwater Farm."
So, a relative of Hayden's, she assumes. She remembers someone saying Hayden's family was the oldest in Mistria.
She gets up and crouches down to the next one, her eyes widening as she takes her seat among the grass.
"In loving memory: Jade, Master Blacksmith & Olin, Seafaring Merchant"
Ari's heart sank even further, and she reached out to touch the gravestone. She knew that they were not around, and knew that Olric and March had been on their own since they were young. But it was never said, out loud. But she couldn't be mad at them for not wanting to talk about it. A tear prickled out of the corner of her right eye, and a voice whispered, "Ari?"
She turns, her dragon friend standing there behind her. He frowns and shakes his head, reaching out a hand to her, "Come dear, sorrow fills this place and it has been untouched for a long time. It will need cleaning and spruced, and fresh flowers laid upon it. But let us go."
Ari wipes the tear away and nods, taking his hand as she stands up. He moves slowly, the lack of power and energy taking it's toll as he almost limps back to the temple with her behind him. They head back towards the fork in the road, and as they approach the stump in the way, he simply slithers around it. Ari takes a leaping jump and vaults herself over, landing not-so-gently on the other side. They continue their way forward, and Ari finds more things to pick up on her way.
"Is it okay if I forage here, Caldarus?"
"It is fine with me, so long as you don't take too much."
So Ari does, she picks up some walnuts and sage, and Caldarus stops in front of a bell berry bush and lets her take some of those from his garden as well. They approach what looks like a stone entrance, the wall is large and made of white stone and there are pillars surrounding it to match. Little ponds were perfectly placed across from each other, while Caldarus had a garden next to each one growing his own personal collection of sage and thyme. There are stone steps ahead, and Caldarus goes up them even slower. Ari links her arm with his and helps him up all the way, as they pass two angel statue water fountains.
Once inside, Ari notices his home is most definitely cozy. It was less of a temple and more of a cozy cottage type vibe. In the middle of the floor was an area with ground, where a cooking pot hung over the middle in the air. Two cushions were placed on each side, and Ari felt sadness tug at her chest. How long had it been since he had someone to dine with? A friend or even a family member?
On the left side of the room sat a desk and chair, with a scroll splayed out on the top of it with a quill and writing ink as well. On the right side of the room, a red rug in front of a dresser with a dragon statue, surrounded by candles. In the back, another dresser with a medicine and herb mixing bowl, and behind that a massive sized beg with many rugs laid out on the floor beneath it. Gold jewelry and other tapestries draped around the top of pillar structures that built into his bed. And his closets had not so hidden stashes of treasures hidden inside. Golden vases and emeralds and ruby's, along with gold coins and bars.
Typical dragon behavior.
Caldarus begins towards his bed, and begins pulling the blanket back and throwing himself into his covers. A heavy sigh escapes him as his head flops onto the pillow, his dark teal hair falling behind him. Ari kneels at his side, a frown etched on her face.
"Do not look so worried," He pats her head, "Taking this form... it was a small price to pay to ensure your safety."
"Will you be okay out here by yourself?" Ari whispers, stopping the hand that patted her head. She takes it softly, "You risked your energy for me, there must be something I can do in return."
"I will mend, in time." He breathes out, "Breaking the final seals will aid in my recovery. I ask that you continue to offer up essence at my shrine as well." He rolls over onto his back, his eyes closing, " Perhaps... if you have the time, a visit now and then would be greatly appreciated."
"Of course, I'll come visit." Ari's eyes quickly glance at the cushions by the hanging cooking pot, "If that's alright with you."
He nods, "Despite my condition, it is a marvel to be able to experience this world in a physical form once more." He smiles, softly and innocently, "Thank you for everything, Ari. Now, I must rest. If you find it easier to do so, you can teleport to the shrine on your farm with the one over there. It will cost you some essence, but I sense you have too much to handle anyway."
Ari flushes, she has gathered a ton of essence in the mines. "I shall take the walk back instead, rest easy Caldarus. I'll come visit you soon." She tucks the blanket up higher to his shoulders, his eyes slip closed and she's out of his temple in a jiffy.
XxXxXxXx
Ari is leaving the fork in the road, making her way back down the stone steps leading out of the woods when she reaches the bottom and hears a voice, "Ari?"
Ari's breath catches in her throat at her pink friend staring back at her. Adeline's eyes look from Ari's figure, to the burned thorns and vines scattered around the steps, "What is- but you- how did you? -"
"I, uh," Ari couldn't find the word, and Adeline is grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her down the rest of the steps.
"Dinner at the Inn, we can discuss what happened over a warm meal."
Ari wants to argue, wants to find any reason to not go, but this was Adeline. She couldn't say no to her. She ignores the want to summon her horse, not wanting Ari to question where a magic horse showed up from thin air either. Instead, they make quick steps back to the inn. Ari is shoved down into a seat at a table, and Adeline goes up to order and pay for both of their dinners. Ari thinks, really hard, of an excuse of how she did it. But what reason would there be? There were burn marks, Adeline had to have noticed.
Adeline comes back with their food a few minutes later, some egg drop soup and bread. She sets Ari's bowl down in front of her, and sits across from her. Ari avoids eye contact but eats her dinner, mumbling a thank you to her friend for covering it. Adeline gives a sweet smile, "I won't ask you how you did it, but just know I'm happy you did."
Ari takes a small sip of her soup, "I don't want to make a big deal out of it, I just was hoping no one would be angry at me for opening the path back up again."
She pressed a warm hand to Ari’s arm. “Oh, Ari. Thank you. Truly. You did a good thing.”
Ari blinked, confused. “I did?”
Adeline nodded. “People’s families are buried up there, you know. It’s an old place, a resting ground. No one’s been able to visit their ancestors in years. Hayden’s got a grandmother up there. Olric’s got—”
She paused, glancing over Ari’s shoulder, but it was already too late. Two shadows loomed just behind them. Deep voices, the same rough note of surprise and guarded suspicion:
“What about us?”
Adeline froze, her hand slipping from Ari’s arm. Ari turned slowly, heart thudding.
March stood just behind her, arms crossed, a flicker of curiosity battling behind his calm mask. Beside him, Olric’s eyes were wide, filled with a spark at the excitement of someone talking about him. Maybe they were talking about his ripped muscles?
Ari opened her mouth, then closed it.
Adeline straightened, a little too quick. “Oh! I was just telling Ari how you two, and others," Her eyes flickered over to Hayden, and March took notice and his jaw immediately clenched, "...might finally get a chance to ... visit your family's graves?”
March’s brows furrowed. “The Deep Woods? You opened that path? Why would you do that Adel-” He stopped, then his gaze pinned Ari like a blade to the wall, "No, not Adeline, it was you wasn't it?"
Olric stepped closer. “Wow, Ari! How'd you do that? I've been trying to clear that path for years! I never had the muscle to do it, I thought!”
Ari swallowed, pulse pounding in her ears. She could still feel the cold moss under her knees, the gravestones lined like quiet witnesses. She forced her voice steady. “I, uh, didn't do it on purpose if it makes you feel better? It just kind of happened. I walked up to it and uh, poof!" Her fingers exploded as she did little jazz hands, "It just... disappeared!"
Adeline gave Ari a look of really? but then swapped back to the two brothers. March scowled, he wasn't buying it.
Ari forced her shoulders to relax under their brotherly stares. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, heart thumping so hard she wondered if they could hear it.
“I… I didn’t mean to,” she said again, voice soft but steady. “I was just exploring. The barrier was so overgrown, I tried something, and it just… broke. I don’t really know how.”
Olric’s face melted into happiness. He let out a long breath, and came over and around to Ari. He stepped closer, ruffling her hair the same way he did when she brought him a round rock, “You did good, Ari,” he murmured, a warm grin cutting through his face. “I can go see Ma and Pop again. They’ve been waiting long enough.”
Ari’s stomach twisted, guilt coiling like a vine. She nodded, letting him muss her hair.
But March didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on hers, burning with something tighter, darker. He stepped forward in between Olric and Ari, cutting off their connection.
“You had no business going up there,” March said, voice low but edged like a blade. The tavern’s warmth felt suddenly too small for his anger.
Ari’s mouth went dry. She forced herself to meet his eyes, to not look away, to hold them. “I told you, it was an accident, March. I didn’t mean to pry.”
March’s eye twitched, a sure sign he didn’t buy it, not for a second. But he didn’t push, not yet. Instead, he turned on his heel, and walked straight out of the inn. “Come on, Olric,” he muttered, “We’ve got work.”
Olric glanced back at Ari, a flash of apology in his eyes. He clapped her shoulder, then followed his brother out into the summer dusk. When they were gone, Ari let out the breath she’d been holding. Adeline slipped back to her side, voice soft, “You did the right thing, Ari. Don’t let him scare you.”
Ari’s eyes drifted to the doorway March had stalked through, the weight of the forest graves pressing heavy in her mind.
He’s not what I’m scared of, she thought. It’s what’s waiting for me if he finds out how I did it."
XxXxXx
The following Monday came quickly. She had spent the rest of her weekend avoiding the angry blacksmith, and hanging out with Reina and Celine at the beach. She took care of her work at the farm, but forced herself to take a long break for the weekend to spend it in the waters with her friends. Each girl told her she did the right thing, but no matter how much they encouraged her, Ari still felt as if she had done something wrong.
She had hit the mines at noon that day, and was lucky enough to stumble upon not just a perfectly round rock, but also a perfect silver ore. Along with her stash of other ores, she made a beeline for the blacksmith. She noticed her redheaded rival was not outside at the forge. Her footsteps are quick as the door opens, the bell chiming and Olric is standing at the counter doing paperwork. He sees her and waves, and when Ari’s eyes glance around he says quickly, “He isn’t here.”
Ari laughs, awkwardly, before stepping up to the eldest brother at the counter, “I’ve got a gift for you!” She pulls out the perfectly round rock and he gasps.
Olric’s eyes lit up, boyish despite the soot on his jaw and the lines at the corners of his eyes. He took the rock like it was a gemstone fit for a king, rolling it between his calloused fingers. “Look at that. Perfect shape, too. I swear you know me too well, pinky.”
Ari grumbles at the nickname, pulling her pink hair back tighter behind her head, “And… this one is for March.”
Ari held out her hand, nestled in her palm was the perfect silver ore she’d coaxed from the mine earlier in the noon. Smooth, bright, flawless. “I found this. For March. I thought… maybe he could use it.”
Olric’s smile dimmed just a touch, something unreadable passing through his eyes. He didn’t take the ore at first, just tilted his head at her, searching her face. “You don’t owe him anything, you know. You don’t have to get him a gift to get on his good side. He just needs… time to process it all.”
Ari shrugged, guilt filling her up anyway. “I know. I just… thought he might like it, and maybe he could turn it into something neat.”
Olric chuckled under his breath, then gently plucked the ore from her hand, weighing it with a gentle touch. “He will. I’ll make sure he knows who brought it.”
He tucked the perfectly round stone into his vest pocket, and gently put the silver ore on March’s own work desk, patting it once for good measure. Then his smile softened, turned sad around the edges. “You know, it’s been a long time since I went up there. To see Ma and Pop. Maybe… maybe I could drag March with me, one of these days.”
Ari leaned against the front work counter, studying him. “He doesn’t go?”
Olric shook his head, gaze drifting to a portrait of their family nearby from over a decade ago, “Never has. Not since we were kids. Last time we went, he wouldn’t even step near the graves. Just waited for me by the path. Said there was no point. But… maybe now…”
He trailed off, looking back at her, like maybe he thought she could make March soften.
Ari smiled, small and sad. “Maybe.”
XxXxXx
Ari stepped out of the blacksmith shop, a tiny river still warm in her pocket from where Olric had pulled it out of storage to give to her in return. He had pressed it back into her hand for luck . She tucked her bag tighter around her shoulders, feeling the weight of the perfect silver ore now gone, traded for a little hope she wasn’t sure would reach March at all.
The sun was dipping low, pouring a sherbet of lights over Mistria’s sleepy fields. She didn’t take the main road, didn’t want extra eyes, not when the Deep Woods called like a siren's song under her skin. So she cut down the narrow side path behind the bathhouse, past the manor and onto the bridge leading into the eastern woods.
She didn’t know that by the bathhouse, just walking out was March. His eyes tracked her as she headed to the eastern woods, this late? “Ari…?”
After she disappeared, March stood there for a moment, arms folded tight across his broad chest, wondering where she was going. His mind screamed at him not to do it, not to follow her. But with gritted teeth, he forced his boots to follow in the same direction.
She … was she hiding something?
He’d known it from the moment she first showed up in Mistria… all soft smiles and bright eyes and gentle hands that everyone wanted to touch, to praise, to protect. Too perfect. Too innocent. Acting all harmless.
But harmless people didn’t break down large, overgrown thorny vines in the woods. Harmless people didn’t lie about it with trembling voices and wide, innocent eyes. He saw right through her.
March continued after her, trying to keep his boots silent on the packed dirt. He kept to the shadows and began slipping from tree to tree as she passed the bridge and turned onto the eastern road, where the old forest wall yawned open like a healing wound.
He’d expose her.
He stalked after her, silent and steady like a wolf without a tail but with teeth sharp enough to tear lies wide open.
March pressed his back to the cold marble column, one hand braced flat against the stone as he peered around its edge. From here, he could see her clearly standing at the edge of the steps, her pink hair tied behind her in a long braid.
XxXxXx
Ari stood at the foot of the old steps. The vines that had once choked the stone were charred and curling inward, blackened as if scorched by a flame too clean to come from any simple torch.
His eyes narrowed. She told us she just ‘broke through.’ A convenient half-truth. This wasn’t a break, this was burnt .
She stood there a long moment, small shoulders hunched, head bowed like she might turn back. Instead, she knelt, pressing her fingers to the singed stems. He watched her lips move.
“…sorry,” she whispered. He caught the word just as the wind shifted. “I’m sorry for the pain I must have caused you.”
She rose again, brushing soot from her palms, and stepped up the stairs into the woods.
March’s jaw tightened. An apology? To dead vines? Who was she? What did she think she was doing out here, bowing to burned brambles?
He waited until he couldn’t see her figure anymore, then slipped out from behind the marble, silent as a shadow. His boots brushed the scorched vines as he followed her up the steps, brittle black flakes cracking under his heel.
The air up here felt heavy, and a sense of anxiety washed over him. He hadn’t been here in… how long had it been? He wanted to stop, but his teeth bit into his cheek and drew blood, forcing him to stay focused, so he kept moving.
One way or another, he thought, slipping deeper into the woods behind her, I’ll drag the truth out of you, Ari.
XxXxXx
Ari came to the fork where the forest split in two: the left path leading toward the graves, quiet and solemn beneath towering oaks, and the right path winding toward Caldarus’s temple, a modest structure nestled between ancient trees, its stonework glowing faintly in the dim light.
She hesitated briefly, then turned right. March, crouched low behind a dense shrub nearby, raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“What the fuck is this place?” he muttered under his breath, watching her approach the heavy wooden door.
Ari rapped sharply, and the door swung open with a warm grin. There stood a half-human, half-dragon. His white scales catching the fading light, and matching horns curling proudly from his forehead, and amber eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
March’s jaw dropped, hidden by the shrubbery. Who or what the hell is that?!
Caldarus’s keen senses immediately caught the ripple in the air. “Another presence,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a wary growl. He hurried Ari inside, closing the door with a firm thud.
Inside, the temple was calm and cool, scented with incense and soft earth. Caldarus settled onto a cushioned bench as Ari approached the small shrine in the corner. A dragon carved stone altar pulsing faintly with ancient magic.
From nowhere, Ari summoned a shimmering purple essence, a swirling mist of raw energy, which she offered carefully to the shrine. The air seemed to hum as the essence was absorbed, and Caldarus visibly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders melting away.
“Thank you, Ari,” he said gratefully, a spark returning to his golden eyes. “Shall I make some tea? And you can tell me all about that dream boy who torments you so much… the one you spoke to me about on your farm… what was his name?”
Ari’s cheeks flushed at the teasing. March’s dark figure could be seen faintly outside the window, still watching, still waiting.
Ari shifted her weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling small in the hush of the stone temple. She rubbed her palms together, watching the last traces of purple essence flicker out.
Caldarus’s claws clicked softly against the stone as he poured steaming water into a pair of mismatched cups. His half-dragon tail flicked lazily behind him as he waited for her response.
Finally, Ari spoke, voice barely audible, “March has been… cruel to me since I moved here,” she said, eyes fixed on the shrine instead of Caldarus’s piercing gaze. “I’ve done everything I can think of; helping Olric at the forge, bringing them ore, drinks, chocolate cake, everything I tried to remember that March liked,” She sat down across from Caldarus at the hanging cooking pot, a defeated sigh left her, “ I’ve tried talking to him. I’ve even tried not talking to him. Nothing works.”
She risked a glance at Caldarus, who arched a scaled brow, the corner of his lip curling in wry amusement.
“I thought if I brought him that perfect silver ore today, maybe it’d help. But he wasn’t even there! He probably hates it, hates me. He thinks I’m… I don’t know. I feel like when he’s around, I’m too much but also not enough.”
Outside, hidden behind the rough wooden window frame, March’s fingers dug into the bark of the tree he crouched beneath. His ears strained, catching every word. Cruel? His mouth twisted. She thinks I’m cruel?
Inside, Ari took the cup Caldarus offered her. Steam curled up between them, carrying a gentle herbal sweetness. She wrapped her hands around it, desperate for warmth.
“What do I do, Caldarus?” she asked, voice trembling at the edges. “You’ve seen centuries of people like him; stubborn, proud. People like me, too. What advice would you give me?”
Caldarus settled beside her, his great wings folding against his back. His voice rumbled with the patience of stone and old fire.
“Ah, my little friend,” he murmured, claws tapping gently on the stone floor, “People like March are iron forged in too-hot flame. They do not bend easily, nor do they know how to cool themselves. To earn his trust is to let him watch you endure his fire without turning to ash.”
He tapped her cup lightly. “Be honest. Be steady. Be patient . And do not lie to him. The wolf always smells the lie before he smells the truth.”
Ari’s cheeks went pale. Her fingers tightened around her cup. Outside the window, March’s eyes narrowed, heart hammering at the word lie . March shifted his weight, boots silent in the moss under the window. The edge of the wooden sill dug into his shoulder as he leaned closer, dark eyes narrowed to slits. Inside, Ari cradled her tea like it was her only shield from the world, while Caldarus watched her with that lazy, ancient amusement — the grin of something he knew and she didn’t.
He twirled the cup in his clawed fingers, flicking his gaze, just for a heartbeat toward the window where March crouched. Their eyes met. March stiffened, but Caldarus only lifted a single brow, the corner of his scaled lip curling upwards in amusement.
“Tell me, Ari,” Caldarus purred, dragging out the word like a cat toying with prey. “You’ve lived in Mistria nearly a year now. Surely one of those other boys has caught your fancy? Hm?”
Ari sputtered into her tea, cheeks flaring pink. “ Caldarus— !”
He chuckled, deep and warm, a sound that made the incense shiver on its stand. “Don’t Caldarus me. I’ve heard how they follow you around. Hayden gifting you fresh eggs, Olric grinning like a lovesick wolf when you bring him perfectly round shiny rocks…” He paused, eyes glittering with mischief — flicking again to March at the window. Daring him.
Ari huffed, setting her cup down a little too hard. “I don’t see any of them that way. They're my friends. Good people. I… like being useful to them. Helping. But that’s all.” She hesitated, her thumb tracing the rim of the cup. “Well. Except for March.”
March’s heart skipped a beat.
“-He’s—he’s not exactly friend material. He’s a rude jerk. ”
Outside, March’s brows shot up so fast he nearly knocked his head on the window ledge. A rude jerk? His mouth parted, stung despite himself.
Inside, Caldarus pressed a hand to his chest, mock offended. “Poor March. Cruel Ari, wounding him so.”
Ari glared at him over the steam. “I doubt he cares enough to be wounded. He hates me.”
Caldarus’s grin sharpened, dragon teeth flashing behind the soft curl of his lips. He leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial rumble. “Mm. If you say so.”
March, teeth grit so tight his jaw ached, shoved back from the window before he gave himself away. Her words echoed in his skull like a hammer on iron: Except March. He’s a rude jerk.
Caldarus dismisses her words and cuts it short, "It's late Ari, you should rest, it is time for you to return home now and prepare for a new sun " Ari nods and finishes her tea, thanking him as she leaves. She tells him she'll bring him more essence tomorrow.
March scrambles back from the windows and ducks into the trees again.
As Ari leaves and shuts the door behind her, March is silent, trying to hold his breath despite being angry at the mean things she said about him.
The hush of the Deep Woods swallows Ari as she leaves the temple, her feet taking her down the temple's steps as she heads back to the fork in the road. She steps off the main path, behind her, March drifting through the darkness like a living shadow, breath quiet, footsteps softer than the whisper of leaves.
He watched as she stopped at the fork once more, the place where the initial road split: graves of his parents straight ahead, or the path back to the eastern woods to the left. He half-expected her to go home, to vanish into the fields and leave him alone with his half-formed anger. But instead, she went straight, deeper into the hush where the graves waited beneath the ancient trees.
Curiosity is a bit deeper than his suspicion now. He followed, keeping to the deeper shadows, boots silent against the mossy stone steps.
Ari moved carefully between the rows of markers, her fingertips brushing against weathered wood, carved stone, little tokens left behind by hands long gone. When she reached their grave, Jade and Olin, the names almost faded into the old stone, she knelt. Slowly, she drew a small bundle of wildflowers from her satchel, petals trembling in her hands.
March’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t been up here in years, couldn’t face his parents' graves himself, hadn’t dared stand in front of that old marker since he was barely taller than the headstone itself. And now she , the liar, the perfect girl who ‘broke’ the barrier , knelt where he wouldn’t.
Ari set the flowers down with a tenderness that made his chest ache. Her voice was soft, so soft he almost forgot he was mad at her.
“Hello there,” she whispered, arranging the flowers just so at the base of the stone. “You’ve never met me, but… My name is Ari.” She paused, like she was waiting for the trees to answer. When they didn’t, she pressed on, her words quiet, but clear enough to reach March’s hidden perch, “I didn’t mean to disturb this place. I’m sorry for how I destroyed the vines and opened up the path back here. It wasn’t meant to disturb your resting place, or anyone else’s here.” Her fingertips traced Jade’s name, then Olin’s. “I just… I wanted to say thank you. For them. For Olric, and… for March.”
March’s eyes widened. Her voice quivered, but didn’t break.
“They’re good men,” she murmured. “ Even if March doesn’t like me very much. I see how he protects and works so hard for Olric. How he works so hard for this place. I think you’d be proud of them.”
A breeze lifted her hair, brushed it across her cheek like a blessing. She leaned back on her heels, sighing out the secret weight she’d carried all the way here.
March clenched his hands into fists at his sides, torn between rage and something rawer, more painful. Why is she here? Why does she care?
The wind carried her final words, soft as a prayer:
“Rest well. I’ll take care of them as best I can. I promise .”
Ari stayed there a moment longer, her hand resting on the top of the old grave marker like she could feel their spirits beneath the dirt and stone. She let out a shaky breath, then rose to her feet, brushing dirt and fallen petals from her skirt.
She turned to leave.
And froze.
March stepped out from behind the trees, the shadows peeling off his shoulders like a second skin. Moonlight caught the sharp lines of his jaw, the dark heat in his eyes, the way his fingers flexed like they ached for something to break.
Ari’s breath hitched. “March—”
“Don’t,” he snapped, the word cutting her off sharply. He stalked closer, boots silent on the soft earth until they were standing only a few feet apart, the graves at their backs, the night pressing close around them. He pointed past her, at the flowers trembling on the fresh soil. “What is this? Huh? You think you can just stumble in here, drop your pretty flowers, and pretend you know them?”
Ari swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I wasn’t pretending—”
“Oh, weren’t you? ” His laugh was short, sharp, humorless. He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the rage barely leashed behind his dark eyes. “You LIED about clearing up the path up here, lied about how you BURNED the thorny vines that were up here for over a decade, lie about how you did it, sneak off into the woods like a fox in the henhouse— and now you’re talking to my parents like you’ve known them your whole life?”
Ari’s mouth opened, but no words came. She could feel the heat of him, fire in his anger, the truth she couldn’t confess stuck like a stone in her throat.
March leaned in, voice low and harsh. “What are you doing here, Ari? What are you hiding? Who or WHAT demon were you talking to up that path, that thing in the temple? Did he tell you to come here and make pretty promises to dead people you never knew?”
Ari growls, her eyes lowering as she matches his energy and gives it right back to him, “Caldarus is NOT a demon or a thing.”
His breath ghosted over her cheek, but his eyes, those furious eyes, never wavered.
“Say one more thing,” he snarled. “Or so help me—”
“So help you what , March?” she snapped, stepping in so the tips of her boots brushed his, “You’ll what? Berate me like you always do? Chase me away and out of this town for good? Or maybe you’ll tell everyone tomorrow how much you can’t stand me and can’t wait to see me fail?”
His eyes widened, just for a heartbeat, not expecting her to stand her ground.
She jabbed a finger at his chest, right where his heart thundered under muscle and adrenaline. “I came here because no one else would. You should have been up here before me, March. You should have brought your own dead parents flowers. You should be up here talking to them about you and Olric but you aren’t!”
His breath hitched, fury flickering into something raw, but she didn’t stop.
“You want to know what I’m hiding? Ask. But don’t stand here pretending you’re their keeper when you’re too scared to even come up here with your own brother!”
The wind swept between them, rattling the branches, but neither moved; two stubborn, wounded things standing guard over the past.
Ari’s words cut too deep, sharp truths she’d carved out of him without permission. March’s eyes flared, that dark simmer of anger finally boiling over the edge he’d been clinging to with white-knuckled fists.
“You have no right,” he snarled, voice rough, savage at the edges. “You have no right to talk to me about my parents, you have no idea —!”
She opened her mouth to fire back to fling the truth at him again, maybe crueler this time. But he didn’t let her.
His hand came up, not a strike, but a shove, palm flat against her shoulder. He knocked that accusing finger away from his chest and pushed her back hard enough that her boots slid in the dead leaves, her back colliding with the rough trunk of the old tree behind her as he pinned her to it. The bark bit through her thin cloak, catching at her hair. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as the cold bit into her spine. Her eyes flew wide, heart pounding so loud she wondered if he could hear it too. March stood over her, chest heaving, fists clenched like he didn’t trust what his hands might do next if he didn’t keep them locked tight.
“You don’t know what they meant to me,” he hissed, so close she could feel the heat rolling off him. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you do. You don’t get to pretend you’re here to take care of me.” The hush of the graveyard swallowed them both, moonlight spilling over scorched vines and soft flowers and the shadows of the dead who could not speak for either of them now.
Ari’s breath came shallow, her back pinned to the rough bark, March’s arms braced on either side of her head like a cage she’d stepped into herself. His face was so close she could see the fine lines bracketing his eyes, the strain in his jaw, the tremor in the pulse at his throat.
For a heartbeat, she said nothing. Her lips parted, then closed, the words gathering behind her teeth trying to come out. Then she looked at him, really looked, past the anger, past his wall he tried to put up, everything. And what she saw there made her voice come out small, soft, and lethal all at once.
“You think you’re the only one who’s lost something?” she whispered, her breath stirring the collar of his shirt. “You think you’re the only one who stands at graves wishing they’d said enough before it was too late?”
March’s eyes widened, pupils blown wide, but she didn’t stop. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a ghost of itself.
“You should consider yourself lucky, March, because at least your parents are still here to listen. Mine aren’t. Mine don’t even have a grave to stand over. Just ash and nothing and a house that doesn’t exist anymore.”
His mouth opened, a raw sound scraped at the back of his throat, but no words came. His hands twitched by her head, then dropped like iron, catching the edge of her cloak, the collar of her shirt, rough, desperate.
“ Shut up— ” he rasped, but she didn’t.
“You think pushing me will make you feel better?” she breathed. “Hit me if it helps. Hurt me if you think that will fix the fact that you won’t even grace their graves—”
His hands moved before his mind did. One palm slammed the tree trunk beside her head. The other, rough and shaking, caught her throat violently; fingers pressing, tight enough to silence her, to stop the flood of truth he couldn’t bear to hear.
Ari gasped, her fingers flying up to wrap around his wrist. His thumb pressed the pulse in her neck, her heartbeat thundering under skin gone cold.
March’s face hovered over hers, twisted with something ugly.
“ Stop it ,” he growled, voice cracked and raw. “ Stop saying things you don’t understand— ”
But Ari only looked back with wide eyes, bright even as her breath hitched in his grip.
“Make me.”
March’s grip tightened, teeth grit so hard his jaw popped. Ari’s pulse fluttered against his palm, so fragile, so alive beneath his rough, fingers. Her hands didn’t claw or slap, they just stayed there, curled around his wrist, holding him there like she wanted him to feel it.
Her heartbeat.
Her truth.
Her bratty mouth.
His chest heaved, breath ragged, throat raw.
“Make me ,” she’d whispered.
The audacity of it, the blade she slipped between his ribs without flinching.
“Why won’t you just shut up ?” he snarled, the words cracking apart at the edges. “Why do you have to stand here and say these things —”
Ari’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. She didn’t look away, didn’t fight him. She just breathed through his strangled hold, lips parting on a rasp of air.
“Because someone has to,” she choked out, “Someone has to tell you you’re not the only one bleeding,”
Something inside him snapped . The brittle dam he’d built around grief and guilt and that deep, choking loneliness that no one in Mistria dared touch.
A low, broken sound tore out of him. He let out a half snarl. His fingers squeezed tighter for a heartbeat, just one heartbeat, then went slack. He ripped his hand away from her throat like her skin had burned him to the bone.
Ari sagged back against the tree, coughing, one hand pressed to her neck. But she still looked at him with defiance in her eyes. March stumbled back a step, breathing like he’d run a mile. He looked at his shaking hand, the one that had been wrapped around her throat a heartbeat ago. His mouth moved, but nothing came out; no apology, no curse, no excuse strong enough to stitch this back together.
His chest heaved once, twice, a deep exhale, then he turned, shoving past the headstones, boots cracking twigs underfoot as he vanished into the trees like a wounded animal fleeing the snare it built for itself.
And Ari, throat bruised, eyes wet, just stayed there. One hand pressed to her neck, the other brushing the flowers she’d left at Jade and Olin’s grave.
“Goodnight,” she whispered hoarsely to the stones. “I’m sorry.”