Chapter 20: The Laughing Storm

Kena woke on the shore, the frozen lake behind her. Her cloak was damp, sticking to her skin, but the cold was gone.

She felt stiff, like her bones were tired. Hope stood nearby, his dark shape against the purple sky.

The clouds were moving fast now, swirling like they were alive. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her head fuzzy.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing up with a shaky finger.

"A storm," Hope said, his voice low. "Coming quick."

Kena groaned, her stomach twisting. "Great. More fun."

She pushed herself to her feet, her boots squishing with leftover water. The golden city glowed far off, its light faint and teasing.

They were outside its walls now, alone in the wide, empty land. She felt small, like the world was too big for her.

The wind started blowing, loud and rough. It tugged at her green cloak, flapping it against her legs.

Then she heard something strange—laughter, deep and wild, mixed with the gusts.

It wasn't happy laughter. It sounded mean, like someone making fun of her.

"Is that… laughing?" she asked, her voice wobbling.

"Yes," Hope said, stepping closer. "A laughing storm. It's magic."

Kena frowned, her eyebrows scrunching. "What's it do?"

"Scare you," he said. "Break you apart. Hold on to me."

She didn't have time to ask more. The storm hit fast, like a wall crashing down. Wind slammed into them, pushing her back.

The laughter grew louder—high voices, low voices, all around her. It filled her ears, bouncing inside her head.

Then whispers started, mean and sharp, like kids picking on her. "You're nothing," one said. "You'll fail," another giggled, high and nasty.

"Shut up!" Kena yelled, clapping her hands over her ears.

The wind shoved her harder, and she stumbled, her boots slipping on the wet grass.

The voices laughed more, mocking her, like they knew she was scared. Her chest felt tight, and her face got hot with anger and fear.

Hope grabbed her hand, his fingers strong. "Don't listen," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. "They lie."

Kena held on tight, her nails digging into his skin. The storm roared, louder than anything she'd ever heard.

Rain fell, hard and cold, hitting her face like tiny slaps. It soaked her hair, dripping into her eyes.

The laughter changed—it turned into screams, then giggles, then sobs. It was all mixed up, messing with her head.

She felt dizzy, like the ground was spinning. "Make it stop!" she shouted, her voice cracking.

"Keep walking," Hope said.

He pulled her forward, his grip like an anchor. The wind pushed against them, trying to rip them apart, but he didn't let go.

Kena's legs shook, but she followed, step by step. Her boots sank into the mud, and her cloak dragged heavy behind her.

A voice hissed right in her ear, low and sneaky. "He'll leave you. You're weak."

Kena froze, her breath catching. Her chest hurt, like someone squeezed her heart. She looked at Hope, his mask blurry through the rain.

Water streaked down it, but his eyes were steady. "Is that true?" she asked, her voice small, almost lost in the storm.

"No," he said, loud and sure, even with the wind howling. "I'm here."

The laughter screeched, like it was mad she asked. Kena squeezed his hand harder, her heart pounding fast.

"Okay," she said, swallowing hard. "I believe you."

Her voice was shaky, but she meant it. She had to trust him—she didn't have anyone else.

They kept going, pushing through the storm. It clawed at them, tugging her hair and stinging her skin.

Lightning flashed, bright and quick, showing trees bending and snapping in the distance.

The voices wouldn't stop. "You're lost," one whispered. "Justice hates you," another laughed. "You'll die," a third one sang, high and cruel.

Kena shook her head, trying to block them out. She focused on Hope's hand—warm, real, holding her tight. It was the only thing that felt safe.

The wind spun around them, wild and fast. Kena's foot slipped on a slick patch, and she fell, pulling Hope down with her.

They hit the mud hard, splashing wet dirt everywhere. The laughter boomed, loud and happy, like it won.

"Get up!" Hope yelled, his voice rough.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her, his boots digging into the ground.

Kena scrambled, her hands sinking into the cold, slimy mud. It stuck to her fingers, heavy and gross.

"We're stuck!" she shouted, the storm so loud she could barely hear herself.

Rain poured down, blinding her. She wiped her face, but it didn't help.

"No," Hope said. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her. "Together."

His voice was steady, even with the chaos all around. Kena felt his chest against hers, solid and warm through the wet clothes.

She nodded, pressing into him. "Okay," she said, her teeth chattering.

The laughter faded a little, like it didn't like them being so close. It made her feel stronger, like they could fight it.

They stood up together, leaning into the wind, taking slow steps. The storm screamed, angry and loud, but they didn't stop.

Kena's legs burned, and her arms ached from holding on, but she kept moving.

The wind pushed harder, like it was trying one last time.

Kena's hair whipped into her face, sticking to her cheeks. She couldn't see much—just Hope's shape and the dark, swirling sky.

The voices got quieter, turning into whispers, then nothing. The rain slowed, then stopped.

The wind died down, leaving only silence. The sky cleared, purple and calm again, like nothing happened.

Kena stood there, panting, mud dripping from her cloak. Her hands shook, and her knees felt wobbly.

"Is it over?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"Yes," Hope said, letting go of her.

He was muddy too, his mask streaked with brown. Water dripped from his cloak, pooling on the ground.

Kena laughed, a shaky, tired sound. "That was awful." She wiped her hands on her pants, but the mud just smeared.

Her whole body felt heavy, like she'd run forever.

"You're strong," Hope said, looking at her. "It didn't break you."

Kena wiped her face with her sleeve, leaving a muddy streak. "Yeah, well, you helped."

She looked at him, her chest feeling warm even though she was soaked. "Thanks." Her voice was soft, almost shy.

She wasn't good at saying stuff like that, but she meant it. He nodded, and she saw his eyes crinkle behind the mask, like he was smiling.

They sat down on the wet grass, side by side, catching their breath. The golden city glowed in the distance, its light steady and far away.

Kena's time was running out—she could feel it, like a clock ticking in her head—but she felt tougher now.

The storm had tried to split them apart, to make her give up, but it failed. She wasn't alone, and that changed everything.

She pulled her knees up, hugging them. Her cloak was a mess, torn and muddy, but she didn't care.

"That storm was mean," she said, staring at the ground. "All that laughing—it got in my head."

"It's supposed to," Hope said, his voice quiet. "It finds what scares you."

Kena nodded, picking at the grass. "It said you'd leave. That I'm weak."

She didn't look at him, afraid he'd see how much it bothered her.

"You're not weak," he said. "And I'm not leaving."

She glanced at him, her throat tight. "Good," she mumbled. "Cause I'd be mad if you did."

She tried to smile, but it wobbled. She felt silly, but his words made her feel better.

They sat there for a while, the air cool and still.

Kena's clothes stuck to her, and she shivered a little. She looked at the city again, so pretty but so far.

"Justice is still out there," she said. "I don't know how to fix this."

"We'll figure it out," Hope said. "One step at a time."

Kena sighed, resting her chin on her knees. "Yeah. I guess."

She didn't feel sure, but Hope's voice was calm, like he believed it. That helped.

The grass was soft under her, even wet. She lay back, staring at the purple sky. Stars were coming out, tiny and bright.

"This place is weird," she said. "Storms that laugh. Lakes that freeze. I miss home."

"What's home like?" Hope asked, lying down beside her. His mask tilted toward her.

"Simple," she said. "A little house. A garden. My mom singing while she cooks." Her voice got quiet. "I want to go back."

"You will," he said. "We'll make it."

Kena turned her head, looking at him. "You think so?"

"Yes," he said, his eyes steady. "You don't quit."

She smiled, small but real. "Neither do you." She reached out, her hand brushing his.

Hope didn't pull away, and she left it there, feeling his warmth. The storm was gone, and Kena was still here, with him. That was enough for now.