Path to nowhere.
"Is it really necessary to buy a house here? In the middle of a war? With the little money we have?" Zora asked, biting down on the hard candy in her mouth with an audible crack. Her expression was doubtful, brows slightly furrowed as she stole a glance at Seraniti.
It's not like we're broke, we have several million just in case.
Seraniti, however, looked more than a little miserable. She trudged forward with her head slightly lowered, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if shielding herself from an invisible weight. There was no fight in her posture, no counterargument ready on her lips. Just resignation.
"Yes," she muttered, her tone carrying the weight of her exhaustion. "We need a place of our own since we'll be stuck here for who knows how long."
She exhaled sharply, ears turning a distinct shade of pink as she barely whispered the rest.
"And I want to hide my embarrassment from earlier."
The mere memory sent a shudder through her, her hand trembling slightly before she clenched it into a fist. The way they had looked at her, the way her own body had betrayed her composure—ugh. She wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it.
Zora, on the other hand, grinned like she had been waiting for this.
"Oh, poor, poor Mashaa~," she teased, dragging out the words like a bad stage play. "Did your wittle heart skip a beat? Were you f l u s t e r e d?"
Seraniti shot her a glare, but Zora was undeterred, laughing softly to herself before suddenly stretching her arms above her head.
"Jokes aside, we both need a shower," she declared, voice carrying just a little too loudly through the crowded street. "It has been far too many days—"
She stopped mid-sentence when she caught the looks they were getting. A couple of passersby glanced at them, some in amusement, others in mild disgust. One woman visibly wrinkled her nose before hurriedly stepping aside.
Zora coughed lightly, slowly lowering her hands. "Ahem. I mean, uh. It'd be nice, y'know? A shower. Very... needed."
Seraniti let out a small groan, rubbing her temples. "You're impossible."
"Lucky for you, my dear Mashaa~," Zora continued smoothly. "I already found us a little place to call home."
She lifted her left hand, fingers swiping upward as a screen flickered into existence before them. A semi-transparent interface hovered in the air, displaying a three-dimensional layout of a residential building.
Seraniti leaned in slightly, studying the details as Zora continued, tapping at the air. "It's not much, but it's close to a few districts and about fifteen minutes from the central plate. Not bad, considering this town only has three plates in total."
Seraniti nodded to herself, making a scrolling motion as she flipped through the specifications. The layout was simple—two rooms, a shared space, a modest kitchen. It was small, compact, but functional.
Then her eyes landed on the price.
"...Zora?"
"Ya~?" Zora popped another candy into her mouth, humming in satisfaction as she crunched down on it.
Seraniti squinted, then looked at her again. "...Is it really that low? The place is in a high district with a decent view—don't you think something's off with it?"
Zora crushed the rest of the candy with her teeth, the sharp crack filling the silence as she shrugged. "It'll be fine. Probably. Maybe."
Seraniti gave her an unimpressed stare.
Zora didn't wait for her to object. With a flick of her fingers, she finalized the purchase. A small ping chimed in her vision, the words Transaction Confirmed flashing across her screen before fading.
"I put it in your account." she said casually.
Seraniti barely registered the confirmation, still staring at her. "...You just spent two hundred forty-one thousand five hundred like it was pocket change."
Zora grinned, leaning slightly closer. "I figured you'd hesitate. So, y'know. I made the executive decision."
Seraniti exhaled through her nose, pressing her fingers against her temples. "You're going to be the doom of me."
"Eh, you say that." Zora said, holding her hands behind her back as she started walking. "Come on, let's check out our new place."
Seraniti let out a slow breath, dragging her feet as she followed, though they both knew this moment—this quiet, fleeting sense of reprieve—wouldn't last. Nothing ever did.
They walked in silence, their footsteps the only steady sound against the distant yelling. White flames still burned in the evening gloom, their glow casting distorted shadows across the streets. She had the skills for such flames too, but why would she? At best, they would consume her enemies faster—but they would also consume her manas just as mercilessly.
The streets were barren save for the scattered wreckage of bodies, charred remains half-buried in debris, unmoving figures slumped against fractured walls. She wasn't about to look any closer. Her sanity was more important than whatever morbid details lay in wait if she let her eyes linger too long.
I don't even know what I'm doing.
The thought crept in before she could push it away.
All I know is this town, a few city-states, and that they're fighting against Kjera. Even then, I have no real clue what war is. Is it like the movies? Like the fights I've been in?
She swallowed hard.
Can my sanity even last that long?
Seraniti kept moving forward. She didn't stop. She didn't let herself hesitate. Instead, she lifted her gaze, watching the dots high above—unreliable as always. At least they had the decency to be consistent in their inconsistency.
She glanced back down as they neared the entrance of their new home. It had taken several long minutes of walking and the occasional jog, weaving through streets. The building stood taller than the place around it, untouched by the immediate devastation.
"Not bad."
Zora was the first to step inside, deliberately ignoring the lingering gazes from the people nearby. Seraniti followed, pretending she didn't see the sunken eyes and ill expressions of those who remained in the lobby, their faces etched with exhaustion and loss. This was a temporary refuge at best. None of them would be here long.
The moment she stepped in, her eyes immediately landed on the receptionist behind the front counter. A quiet hum of recognition stirred in her chest.
"A
The woman behind the counter had the unmistakable features—pointed ears, horns that turned from matte to a glossy vanilla before turning completely transparent at the tips.
The receptionist looked up at the words, her brown eyes warm with something. She smiled softly and beckoned them forward with an open hand.
"Come, come. I'm guessing you two bought the room?"
Seraniti hesitated, staring without responding. Something about the way the woman looked at her made her skin itch. Zora nudged her lightly, snapping her out of it.
"Uh... yeah..." she muttered, averting her gaze.
"Shh... it's okay, dear."
Before Seraniti could react, the woman—Aaliya, if the small plaque on the desk was to be believed—reached over the counter and gently pulled her forward, pressing her head against her chest. The warmth was immediate, her hand smoothing over the back of Seraniti's head in soft, rhythmic motions.
Seraniti froze. Her entire body locked up, rigid and unyielding, as if she had been struck rather than embraced.
"I almost mistook you for a banshee," Aaliya murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "But I can see now... life has not been kind to you, dear. So don't worry."
Seraniti didn't breathe.
"I will take care of you, my lost child."
Her ears rang.
She bit down hard—on nothing, her own grief and violence pressing against her throat, thick and suffocating. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, tears swelling at the edges, burning hot as she willed them not to fall.
"No one can hide from the gaze of a Shai," Aaliya continued, her voice unbearably soft. "We all see the flow of manas. Even other Sarkhn can't hide it, much less a child."
Her fingers twitched. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides. Her shoulders shook—something she had spent years suppressing and something crying just once wouldn't help with.
Aaliya glanced over at Zora.
Zora, who had been watching the entire exchange, looked away, ears flicking downward as she rubbed at her arm. Her expression sad and depressed for her own reasons.
The sorrow. The exhaustion. The burdens neither of them spoke about.
"You're both tired," she said, softer now, as if speaking to ghosts. "Rest, while you still can."
The words weren't a command. They weren't even advice.
They were a truth.
Even if she would never find rest in the future.Even if she died a useless death, just like the friends she made long ago.She would continue her journey.
If it burdened her more, if the weight became unbearable, it would be okay.
After all, she was looking for the one she cared about the most.
I'll find you, Eik. If only once. More.
Seraniti blinked away the last of her tears, tilting her head slightly as if pushing the emotions aside. Aaliya, still watching her with that gentle, knowing gaze, smiled before tapping on the floating screen in front of her.
"Enjoy your stay here, at Ikhtiyār."
The moment she said it, Seraniti's eyes glowed faintly as a translucent display flickered into her vision. The apartment's logo shimmered briefly before a cascading line of shifting digits scrolled across her interface—an encrypted key, granting them access to their temporary home.
Before she could react, she felt something warm wrap around her wrist.
Zora's tail.
Seraniti turned her head just in time to see Zora flash her a wide grin.
"Let's go, Mashaa! We have a bed calling to us! And we have a ton of things to buy tomorrow!"
Zora didn't wait for a response. With a mischievous flick of her tail, she tugged Seraniti forward, dragging her with an eagerness that left no room for protest.
"Wa—wait! Slow down!" Seraniti huffed, stumbling slightly but instinctively leaning forward to avoid pulling on Zora's tail too harshly.
A faint smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
From behind the counter, Aaliya watched them go, her expression unreadable yet deeply nostalgic. Slowly, she lowered her gaze, rubbing the worn-down ring on her finger with the same absent minded care one might reserve for an old, treasured memory. A quiet hum escaped her lips—a melody known only to herself.
The elevator ride was swift, smooth, and unlike the designs Seraniti had seen movies. There were no buttons to press, no panels to touch—just a brief recognition as their apartment key registered, guiding them to their floor.
The hallway stretched out before them, wide enough for several people to walk through at once. It was clean, well-lit, but strangely silent. Each door bore a sign, but many of them were blurred, as if the names were hidden from anyone who wasn't meant to see them.
Except for one.
One name stood out clearly.
Seraniti Desdemona.
She stopped in her tracks, eyes flicking toward the engraved letters. A part of her felt a strange, uneasy comfort in seeing her name displayed like that— permanent, even if it was just for now.
Zora, still leading her by the tail, stopped just in front of the door, tilting her head slightly as if inspecting it.
Without hesitation, she placed her palm against the surface.
A soft hiss filled the air as the door slid open, revealing their new home.
"Ohhh…" Zora whistled in appreciation. "At least we don't have to buy much."
Seraniti stepped inside slowly, her eyes scanning the room.
"Isn't this different from the one we saw?" she asked, her voice laced with surprise.
The space was far larger than she had expected.
A two-floor window dominated one side of the apartment, the main attraction of the room. Even in the dim evening light, the city stretched far below, flickering with distant fires and shifting lights, a reminder that the world was still in motion even while they stood still.
An open-concept office lounge occupied one corner, merging seamlessly with a kitchen that had more space than she had dared to hope for.
Seraniti's attention drifted as they moved deeper inside. A door slid open automatically, revealing another room.
The moment she saw what was inside, her breath caught in her throat.
A workshop.
A fully stocked cache.
It wasn't just a spare storage room—it was designed for modifications, maintenance, crafting.
Seraniti's eyes lit up.
"I can finally work on my ΜΙСΛ!" she breathed, stepping forward instinctively, fingers already itching to get to work.
Before she could dive into the room completely, Zora's grip on her wrist tightened slightly.
"Mashaa, there's more space too!"
With a playful yank, she pulled Seraniti back, leading her toward the stairs on the other side of the apartment.
They ascended quickly, the steps made of smooth, weight-controlled material that absorbed their footfalls almost noiselessly.
The second floor opened into a more personal space—another lounge, a private sitting area, and most importantly—
"Ooooh!" Zora's tail uncurled from Seraniti's wrist as she zoomed across the room, appearing next to the large bed as if drawn to it by instinct.
"Mashaa! It's huge! You could fit three people in this!"
Seraniti barely heard her.
For the first time in who knew how long, they weren't traveling.
Seraniti exhaled slowly as the realization settled in, the tension still lingering in her shoulders despite everything.
But there was one thing she had been waiting for longer than she could remember.
A bath. A real one.
She practically floated toward the bathroom, a
Not that she cared.
She swung the door open and immediately went to work, opening every cabinet in search of a towel while the shower turned on automatically with a soft hiss of heated steam. A warm, pleasant mist filled the air, the temperature already set to perfection.
She hummed to herself as she placed everything she needed onto the counter—the essentials: shampoo, conditioner, loofah, a towel thick enough to wrap herself in like a cocoon.
The water hit the basin steadily, filling the room with the comforting sound of cascading warmth.
"Mashaa? Are you in there~?"
Zora's voice was teasing, a sing-song lilt to it.
Seraniti didn't answer.
She was already tugging off her boots, peeling off her socks, feeling the relief of bare feet against the cool tile floor. Her jacket followed next, then her pants and shirt in one swift motion. A deep sigh left her lips as she lifted her
Her muscles ached, her skin still holding traces of dried sweat and battle grime, a reminder of the past few days spent running, fighting, and barely surviving.
She stepped forward, toes touching the water as she leaned against the smooth tiled wall. Warmth cascaded over her scalp, flowing down her back, soaking her to the bone, washing away every last trace of exhaustion clinging to her body.
"Hmmm...mmm...mm..."
The sound of running water drowned out most of the outside noise, leaving only the rhythmic patter against her skin.
And then—
The door opened.
A faint whirring sound followed, almost imperceptible beneath the shower, the quiet hum of the apartment's washer activating as a set of clothes began disappearing, piece by piece from the shadows.
Seraniti didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.
"Heh."
Zora's voice held amusement, but Seraniti was not amused.
She grabbed her loofah—imbued with just a hint of manas—and without hesitation, tossed it over her shoulder.
Zora caught it effortlessly, fingers closing around the sudsy weapon, her grin widening as she stepped into the shower fully.
The temperature adjusted automatically, a seamless transition as the water accommodated the presence of a second person.
Seraniti sighed, shaking her head as she reached for one of the bottles, popping the cap open and squeezing a dollop of shampoo into her palm.
Zora, ever the troublemaker, moved behind her, practically hovering, waiting for a reaction.
Seraniti ignored her completely, rubbing the shampoo into her scalp, fingers working through the tangles as the thick lather foamed between her hands.
She let the warmth of the water carry away the remnants of dirt and sweat, scrubbing away the battle as if it had never happened.
Zora, however, was not one to be ignored for long.
"Hehe."
The sound was soft, almost a giggle, but loaded with mischief.
Seraniti could feel the foolish radiating from behind her.
And then—
"Quite the pair here, Mashaa~"
Seraniti brow twitched, then flicking her fingers.
Zora barely had time to react before her forehead was met with a sharp, perfectly aimed flick.
"Ow—!"
Zora flinched, rubbing at the spot with exaggerated offense.
Seraniti smirked, rinsing the shampoo from her hair as she let out an exasperated breath. "You're the worst."
"And yet, here we are, together, in the shower~," Zora teased, waggling her eyebrows dramatically.
Seraniti slapped her hand against Zora's face—gently, but enough to push her away.
"Move, idiot, you're hogging all the heat."
"Oh? You wanna be closer to me, Mashaa? How bold—"
She dodged the second loofah strike.
They continued like this—banter, laughter, soft shoves—until the water ran clear, until exhaustion sank deeper into their bones, until the steam made everything feel just a little lighter, as if, for a brief moment, the weight of the foolish could be rinsed away just like the blood and sweat that had clung to their skin.
For just a little while longer, they allowed themselves to exist in something normal.