Small Visit

The sky had faded into a silver haze by the time Ilya and Arvid made their way back to the clearing. The trees swayed gently, branches creaking under soft layers of frost. Their boots crunched lightly over old snow, disturbed only by the occasional flutter of wings overhead.

Two rabbits swung from Ilya's shoulder, caught earlier with the traps Arvid had taught him to lay. He didn't speak much during the return, he rarely did, but something about today felt different. Quieter, maybe. Less like survival. More like a routine.

Arvid moved ahead with silent familiarity, pushing a few snow-covered branches aside and stepping into the open. The clearing greeted them with a familiar hush, smoke-blackened stones arranged around a cold fire pit and makeshift logs used as seats. A place they had both begun to claim, in their own quiet ways.

"If you carry like that, your shoulder'll twist wrong," Arvid said, glancing at the rabbits.

Ilya adjusted them without replying. Arvid gave a grunt that could've meant anything, approval, annoyance, or nothing at all. He then knelt by the pit to rebuild the fire.

While the flint struck and embers sparked, Ilya sat on the same log as always. He watched the trees sway at the edge of the clearing, pale sky caught in the gaps like broken glass. No sound but the wind.

Then, with a voice like falling snow, he asked, "When will you show me your Astra?"

Arvid froze.

He didn't answer right away.

His hands paused above the fire, the kindling catching in slow, crawling fingers of flame. Smoke curled between his fingers, but he didn't seem to notice. He sat back on his heels, staring into the fire as if something inside it might answer for him.

Ilya waited, eyes steady. He hadn't meant it as a challenge. Just a question. A quiet one.

Arvid reached up and tugged the scarf loose from his neck, not in discomfort, but more like he was buying time. A response sat at the edge of his breath, unspoken.

But before he could answer, the wind suddenly shifted.

Not a natural gust. A hum cut through the air, high-pitched and mechanical, like tension pressed against the treetops. The snow trembled faintly in the branches. Birds scattered. The fire snapped sideways, reacting to pressure that hadn't come from the ground.

A streak of light shot across the sky. Low, fast, trailing steam.

Then—

"Ilyaaa!"

The voice cracked through the trees like a firework. Young. Joyful. Familiar.

Ilya jerked his head up, startled.

"Anna?!" he gasped.

The Astra streak banked hard above the clearing, its engine whining with gleeful recklessness. Wind kicked through the trees as it descended in a spiraling blur.

Anna clung tightly to the back of it, arms spread wide and hair flapping behind her.

Her grin split her face in half. She whooped as Lilya brought the missile-broom in for a wide, looping descent.

Ilya backed up as the Astra hissed into the clearing like a comet with no brakes.

Lilya stood on it before it even landed, laughing like she was twelve again, one hand on Anna's back to keep her steady.

They landed in a spray of snow.

Ilya stared, half in horror, half in disbelief.

Anna jumped down first, cheeks flushed red from the cold and excitement.

"Ilya! I flew! I really flew!" she said, bouncing on her feet. "We went over the trees, and I could see everything! Even the river! And there were birds flying next to us!"

Lilya slid off after, boots crunching into the snow. "She begged. Said you never let her see the woods. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't bring her to a dangerous hunting ground on a high-speed missile?"

"I told you not to make dramatic entrances," Arvid muttered from behind them.

"You always say that," Lilya said, beaming. "And I always ignore it."

Anna ran in a wide circle around the firepit, arms outstretched like wings. Her laughter echoed through the clearing, bright and reckless, like nothing in the world could touch her.

"I want one!" she shouted. "I want one that flies like that! I could go anywhere! I could fly to Elvanor and back before breakfast!"

Lilya leaned casually against her Astra, arms crossed, watching the girl with a smile. "I told her we'd only go up for a minute. Ended up doing a full tour."

Ilya's expression hadn't softened. His shoulders were still tense, his jaw tight. He glanced between Anna and Lilya like someone waiting for the punchline of a joke that hadn't landed yet.

"You brought her here," he said quietly.

Lilya shrugged. "She asked."

"That's not an answer."

"Neither is that tone."

Anna bounced back into the conversation, barely catching her breath. "You should've seen it, Ilya! The forest looks so small from the sky! Like the trees were just little dots!"

Ilya exhaled slowly. His hands had relaxed without him noticing. There was something in Anna's voice—so unguarded, so full of wonder—that he couldn't look away from.

But Lilya wasn't finished.

"While we're here," she said, stretching one arm over her shoulder, "how about that spar we didn't get last time?"

Ilya turned to her, flat-eyed. "No."

"Oh, come on. I'll use my off-hand."

"No."

She smirked. "Afraid I'll knock the snow out of you?"

He said nothing, turned back toward the fire.

Lilya whistled. "Harsh crowd."

"He's smarter than you look," Arvid said, setting the rabbit on a small iron rack above the flames.

"I take offense to that."

"You should."

Anna sat beside Ilya on the log, boots swinging above the snow. "You've changed," she said, almost too softly to hear.

Ilya glanced at her. "What?"

"You're not so… quiet. Still look like a ghost," she added with a grin, "but a warmer one."

He didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't deny it, but he felt more relaxed after knowing the truth. The dreams still haunted him, but now he knew he wasn't the only one.

At least he's not alone.

***

The clearing felt softer now, lit with a golden haze from the low fire. Anna sat beside Ilya. Her voice drifting in bursts, sometimes asking small questions, sometimes just narrating her thoughts out loud. Ilya didn't answer much, but he listened. That was enough for her.

A few paces away, Lilya walked slowly along the clearing's edge, gloved hands behind her head. She stopped near the old pine where Ilya practiced hand-to-hand, staring up at the claw marks in the bark.

She turned around, smiling faintly, and joined Arvid near the fire.

He didn't look at her.

"So," she said, crouching near the firewood pile. "What happened exactly? Why did you leave the academy?"

"...I needed distance."

"You needed guilt."

That silenced him.

She didn't push further. Just sat there a moment, watching the flame snap against the wind.

She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. Her tone was lighter when she spoke again.

"You're really training him, huh?"

Arvid gave the slightest nod.

"He's a quiet one," Lilya added. "Not like you were. You used to yell when you missed a shot."

"He doesn't miss."

That made her pause.

She looked back toward Ilya, who was listening to Anna chatter about pinecones and snow shapes.

"Do you think he'll survive the next year?"

"I don't know," Arvid said.

"Would you survive if he didn't?"

He didn't answer.

She didn't expect him to.

The fire had burned low by the time Lilya stood and brushed the frost from her coat. "Time to go," she called toward the log. "If I wait any longer, your caretaker's going to send a search party armed with soup and guilt."

Anna groaned. "Five more minutes?"

"Nope." Lilya grinned, walking toward her Astra. "You already had five extra circles around the sky."

Anna stood and turned to Ilya. "You'd better come back to the orphanage soon. You keep disappearing into the woods like some secret monster."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she was already moving.

Then she spun back, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed tight.

"You're not a ghost," she whispered into his coat. "Not to me."

He didn't know what to do with that.

She pulled back, grinning like none of it was serious. "And you still owe me your bread from breakfast. I'm not forgetting."

She ran to Lilya, who offered her a hand as they climbed onto the Astra together. The engine pulsed faintly as it powered up, heat shimmering in the air around it.

"Try not to die before our next visit," Lilya called back over her shoulder.

"You try," Arvid muttered.

Lilya gave him a mock salute, then turned to Ilya. "Keep that kid warm. He's starting to thaw."

Then the Astra launched, kicking snow and sparks into the trees as it streaked skyward. The sound faded quickly, leaving behind a hush that didn't feel empty.

Ilya stood alone in the snow, arms still slightly out from Anna's hug, as if the shape of it hadn't faded yet.

His hands were warm.

And he didn't know why that scared him.