"Footsteps Toward You"

The sun bled through the treetops, smearing the sky with bruised streaks of amber and violet. A breeze blew through the underbrush, stirring the scent of damp earth as Kin and Sye pushed forward. Ahead, a cave sat wedged between gnarled roots and moss-choked stone. The entrance dark and quiet.

Kin tilted his head toward it. "We should rest up in there. I'll grab some firewood, you get some rest."

Sye didn't answer. Didn't even pause. She just kept walking. Kin squinted, then smirked. He cupped a hand to his mouth. "Not even a 'Yes, thank you, oh kind Kin, provider of warmth and shelter'?" His voice climbed into an exaggerated pitch, a flawless impression of how she might have said it.

Silence.

Sye didn't react. Didn't twitch. Just kept moving. Kin stood there for a second longer, then scoffed lightly. Without another word, he turned and strode into the trees, vanishing into the dusk.

Kin let out a quiet exhale. Carefully—almost too carefully—he lowered the firewood, making a deliberate show of silence. The fire crackled low, stirring orange reflections in the damp walls. Sye was already asleep, curled near the fire with her arms folded, legs tucked in tight. The light brushed against her face, her breathing gentle and slow. He sat cross-legged, hands bracing behind him as he leaned back against the cool stone. Taking a quick gaze toward Sye.

The flames danced in her half-lidded eyes as she blinked herself awake.

Kin perked up. "Oh, you're up!"

Sye groaned softly, rubbing her temple. She didn't respond.

Kin turned back to the fire, exhaling. "Ahhh… I can't stop thinking about what the Master said." His tone wasn't heavy, but it carried something distant. Something thoughtful. Sye didn't react. She just watched the flames, unmoving.

Then, completely serious, Kin murmured, "You know, you're like a potato."

Sye's head turned toward him. Slowly. Expression unreadable.

Kin, unfazed, grinned. "Hard on the outside, hard on the inside—"

As he shifted, stretching out to lie down, Sye's eyes narrowed. Unamused.

"—but boil it, and suddenly, it's all soft and warm."

For a moment, the only response was the quiet crackle of the fire. Then, without a word, Sye turned back to the fire. But in that tiny shift—just barely—a smile crossed her face. Small enough to miss, but real enough to be there. She tucked her chin against her knees, hiding it.

Kin stretched out with a yawn, "Rest well, Sye. Goodnight."

She hesitated. Her lips parted, as if she might say something. But in the end, she only adjusted her arms, burrowing deeper into warmth, and let the fire do the talking.

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant foliage. A thin mist clung to the ground, slowly retreating under the warmth of the rising sun. The wooden bridge ahead stretched over a quiet stream, its weathered planks creaking softly under the occasional breeze.

At the entrance, a lone man stood with an air of quiet authority. His stance was firm, feet planted wide, arms crossed as if guarding something important.

Sye, leading as usual, stopped before him. The man tilted his chin up slightly, his gaze steady.

"That'll be one gold coin to cross," he said smoothly. "This is the King's bridge—anyone who wishes to pass must pay the toll."

Kin, trailing behind, peeked over Sye's shoulder.

Sye reached into her pouch without hesitation, seemingly unfazed.

Kin's expression shifted as he studied the man. Something was off.

He stepped beside Sye, arms loosely crossed. "Where's the signed decree from the King?" His voice was casual, but his words carried weight.

The man's jaw tightened for a fraction of a second before he scoffed. "There is no letter. You're just supposed to hand over the money and move along."

Kin exhaled through his nose. "No, no, I don't think so."

He stepped forward as if to cross, but before his foot met the wooden planks, a flash of steel caught the light. The man had drawn a knife, holding it low but unmistakably ready.

"Give me your money."

The shift was instant.

Kin let out a slow sigh and took a small step to the side, revealing Sye.

She was already rolling up her sleeves.

Kin, as if completely uninvolved, tilted his head upward, hands casually in his pockets. A dull thud echoed against the bridge.

The so-called toll keeper was now sprawled on the ground, limbs twisted at odd angles, a fresh bump swelling on his forehead.

As Kin and Sye walked past him onto the bridge, Sye mumbled something.

"Thank you."

Kin turned his head toward her. "What was that?"

She hesitated for a moment, then shut her eyes briefly, a faint pink rising to her cheeks.

"Thank you!" she repeated, this time with a little more force.

Kin stared for a moment before his hand drifted behind his head in a sheepish motion. "Woah... it was nothing, really." His gaze dropped to the wooden planks beneath them.

Sye's shoulders loosened slightly, tension easing from her frame. She kept her gaze ahead as she spoke, her voice quieter than before. "He was about to trick me, so I... I really appreciate it."

There was something unguarded in the way she said it—no sharp edges, no stoic distance. Kin felt a sudden warmth crawl up his neck. He wasn't sure why, but the sincerity in her words sent a strange flutter through his chest. His fingers twitched before he instinctively rubbed the back of his head. "No problem," But when he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, he caught the faintest tint of pink dusting her cheeks. That only made his own face heat up even more. His steps faltered for half a second, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

Neither of them said anything after that, but the silence between them felt different— it was something they both quietly held onto.

The sun had begun its slow descent, its golden light fading into cooler tones as thick clouds stretched across the sky, casting soft shadows over the landscape. A chill crept into the air.

Then, something caught Sye's attention.

Perched against the side of the mountain, a magnificent temple stood proudly, its red-tiled roofs curved in elegant symmetry, its white walls gleaming against the dimming light. The craftsmanship was impeccable—each detail radiating an air of reverence and history.

Sye stopped and pointed. "There."

Kin followed her gaze, and for a moment, he simply stared. His breath hitched slightly—the sheer elegance of the temple was almost surreal. It was like something pulled from an ancient tale, standing against the mountain like a monument to time itself. Then, his awe twisted into something else.

A grin spread across his face. "Meet you up there."

And just like that, he took off. For a moment, Sye simply stared—then, as if a switch had flipped, she shot forward, overtaking him in an instant. Kin froze mid-step, his brain catching up a moment too late. His eyes widened before he surged ahead, pushing his legs harder to close the gap. Their footsteps pounded against the rugged trail, the rhythm of their chase echoing through the mountain air.

The race was on.

The dirt trail spooled upward. Kin's breath came in fractured gusts, his legs tight with the sting of overuse, but Sye pressed forward, her pace as certain as the turning of celestial spheres. The wind, now laced with the spectral wisp of incense, curled around them like an unseen guide, hinting that their destination lay just ahead. As they crested the final steps of the mountain path, the temple revealed itself in full splendor. White stone walls bore intricate carvings of dragons and celestial figures, their forms so lifelike they seemed to shift beneath the passing clouds. At the temple's entrance, a massive pair of wooden doors, their deep brown surface etched with golden calligraphy.

A lone monk stood before them, framed by the open doorway.

His robes were a rich shade of saffron, layered with deep brown fabric that draped over one shoulder. The fabric, though simple, carried the weight of tradition, its edges embroidered with faint, geometric patterns. His hands, weathered by time yet steady as stone, rested together at his waist. Beneath his shaven head, his features were sharp yet kind—high cheekbones, a straight nose, and dark eyes that held the stillness of a lake untouched by wind.

A calm smile touched his lips. "Hello, travelers." His voice was smooth, carrying a quiet authority.

Kin took a step forward, still catching his breath. "Hi, we're looking for someone named Senen. The Master asked us to meet him."

The monk's brow lifted ever so slightly. "Senen, you say?" His gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he stepped aside with an elegant motion, gesturing toward the temple's dimly lit interior.

"Right this way."

The scent of aged wood and burning incense curled into the cool air as Kin and Sye stepped past the threshold, the weight of the temple's presence settling over them like a silent promise.