The Beauty of Travel

It's been three days since we got here. I thought we'd be on the road by now, but no. Turns out, we didn't have enough money to cover everything, so everyone's out today, taking on more quests to make up the difference. It's probably faster without me slowing them down, anyway. No point dragging along someone who can't pull their weight, right? I mean, it stings a little, but I get it.

Sela stayed back with me, though. I don't know if she did it to keep me company or just to get out of working, but either way, it's nice to have someone around. Beats sitting here alone.

The plan is to head out tomorrow morning. We're renting a horse and carriage to take us to the next town, but it's going to take a couple of days to get there. Which means camping out at least one night. Maybe two. Honestly, I'm not looking forward to it. It's freezing out there. Sleeping under the stars sounds romantic and all, but not when your teeth are chattering the whole time.

Apparently, they're trying to scrape together enough money for some tents, too. Three should be enough—two people in each tent. It's not much, but at least it'll keep the wind off our backs. Sharing a tent might be a little awkward, but… hey, it's better than freezing to death.

As long as Ronan and Sela don't end up sharing a tent, things should be fine. Not that I think Ronan would push it too far—well, maybe he would—but Althea would never let it happen. She'd probably throw him out into the cold herself if he even tried.

Hey, maybe I'll get to share a tent with Sela instead. Now that would be… something. Just the two of us under the blue moon, sharing the same space. I mean, I've read about situations like that in romance novels—how it brings people closer. A shadow moves outside the tent, she gets scared, and then… she pulls herself closer to me for comfort.

"Huh?" Sela tilts her head, glancing at me in surprise. I blink, realizing I've been staring at her. Great. Now I probably look like an idiot.

At least, that's how it goes in the books. Real life? Yeah, probably not. She'd more likely laugh it off or throw a pillow at me for even thinking it.

"So, Kaito, what are you planning on doing? The others should be back soon, I think..." Sela asked, leaning back in her chair so far I wondered if it might topple over.

"I'm not sure… We could just wait here. Maybe talk for a while, if you're up for it?" I replied, my gaze still fixed on the fire as it popped and crackled. The warm glow of the hearthlight played off her snowy white hair, giving it a soft, almost ethereal shimmer—a striking contrast to her usual lively energy.

"Sure, I don't mind. What do you wanna talk about?" she asked, her voice as sweet and carefree as ever. She tipped her chair back and forth, her feet brushing the ground in a lazy rhythm.

I thought for a moment, still watching the flames dance. "What do you think about traveling like this? I mean, this is my first time doing anything like it, so I'm curious how you—or the others—feel about it."

Sela stopped rocking her chair for a moment and tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. Then, with a soft smile, she answered, "Hmm… Well, I like it. You get to see all these cool and beautiful places, meet new people, learn things you never thought you would, and, y'know, bond with the people you travel with." Her words picked up pace as her smile widened, and I noticed a glimmer of something in her eyes—nostalgia, maybe.

"I've seen so many amazing places," she continued, her voice softening. "Some of them I'd love to visit again, but… it's weird. Sometimes, I wish I could just forget them entirely. Revisit them for the first time all over again. Feel that rush, that little shiver that runs through you when you see something so beautiful it feels unreal." Her words trailed off as she stared into the flames, her expression a mix of warmth and something bittersweet.

"For some places," she added after a moment, her tone softer now, "just thinking about them makes my chest feel tight, like this mix of good and bad. Like… you're happy you saw it, but it hurts a little too. Does that make sense?"

Her gaze stayed locked on the fire, her chair now completely still. I didn't say anything. I didn't need to.

"Our party's been to so many places together, and I love it. Some of them just take your breath away. Like seeing a field of wildflowers and running through it without a care in the world. Or sitting on a carriage, listening to everyone chat, and suddenly realizing the mountains around you are towering higher than you've ever seen. Or spotting a kingdom in the distance for the first time, its spires catching the sunlight." She smiled wistfully, the energy in her voice softening as her mind seemed to wander.

"Sandory…" she said, her voice picking up slightly. "Sandory's one of those places. I wish I could see it again for the first time. You'll see what I mean when we get there. But it's not just Sandory—it's the journey, too. The waterfalls, the forests, the tiny villages with their own charm. Sometimes, the in-between places are just as beautiful as the destination."

She stopped, her words fading into the crackling of the fire. For once, Sela seemed completely still, lost in her memories.

"I see… and I think I understand." I leaned back slightly, the chair creaking beneath me as I turned my gaze from the fire to Sela. Her eyes reflected the dancing flames, full of light and curiosity. "Where I come from—or rather, where I was before coming here—the place is called Luminara. We had this celebration for the kingdom, and it was… beautiful. Fantastic, even."

My lips curved into a faint smile as I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "All the fireworks, music, food, and performances—it felt like stepping into a dream. Five days of it. Five days where you forgot about everything else. You see…" I paused, searching for the right words, "I'd love to relive that. To feel that rush again. So, yeah, I get what you mean."

I glanced at her, wondering if she could see how much it meant to me. A memory like that—perfect and untouchable—was hard to let go of. But still…

"Even so," I continued, sitting upright again, "I think I like seeing new things more. Coming with you guys was one of the best things that could have happened back there. I want to see all these places you've been talking about—the mountains, the fields, Sandory… I want to experience it all." I exhaled deeply, a mixture of nervousness and resolve filling me. "But more than that… I want to see these places for the first time with you guys. I want to share that first experience with you all."

My chest felt a little tight as I finished, and I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the weight of my words—or maybe it was how much I realized I meant them. I leaned back again, letting the warmth of the fire wash over me. "So, yeah… I hope I can do that. I hope I can be part of this journey, for real. You know?"

"It sounds good, yes. I'd like to show you all of these places someday, Kaito," Sela said, her tone surprisingly soft and thoughtful—unusual for her. She leaned back in her chair, gazing into the fire as if picturing it all herself. "I like traveling with you—I'm sure the others feel the same way. And now is just the start. Once we get to Sandory, that's where it really begins. From there, we'll travel even more… After we handle this labyrinth, of course."

Her calmness was almost contagious, and it caught me off guard. Sela wasn't usually this reflective, but maybe that's what made her words stick. I couldn't help but let her hope sink into me.

I really want to see the world with them—to explore all those places she talked about and so many more.

As we both settle into the warmth surrounding us, it feels like an unspoken understanding passes between us—the conversation has run its course. Neither of us says a word; there's no need. We just sit there, side by side, letting the quiet fill the space, our gazes fixed on the fire. The flames dance and flicker, casting shadows that move across the floor like silent performers, twisting and swaying in rhythm with the crackling wood.

Beyond the windows, the sun begins its slow descent, dipping below the horizon and leaving behind streaks of orange and pink that streak across the sky. The clouds catch the fading light, glowing in soft, vibrant hues, while on the other side, the moon rises steadily, casting its pale glow over the village, preparing to blanket it under a calm, star-speckled night.

Sela remains quiet, her usual energy replaced by a rare stillness. Her eyes, fixed on the hearth, reflect the flickering flames, tiny sparks of light dancing within them. Shadows play along her hair as she idly twirls a strand between her fingers, rolling it in smooth, absentminded motions. It's peaceful, almost serene—a side of her I don't often get to see.