-Sera Lozano-
It was morning. I woke to light streaming through the shutters. Aien was already up, seated by the window with the curtain drawn back, staring out at the street as if he was memorizing it.
"You sleep at all?" I mumbled.
"A bit."
"You're weird."
"Really?" Aien sounded surprised and a bit concerned.
I just laughed, stretching as I sat up. "Let's get breakfast before Riven eats it all."
Aien nodded, pulling his light cloak over his shoulders.
We stepped outside the inn together. Being met with the fresh morning in a way I didn't expect. Not crisp, not chilled but light. Like the world was giving us time to breathe.
Aien walked beside me with his usual, quiet steps. As if walking on air itself, not making a sound no matter the type of paving. By this point, I've gotten used to it, though it still throws me off. He moves like someone who doesn't expect to be noticed, like the wind he keeps talking about. Always there, shifting, but never enough to demand attention.
The market wasn't much. Not compared to the much bigger, bustling cities. A few shops lined the street before the stalls came out later in the day, an older woman selling bread from a bakery's window, a blacksmith who's forge wasn't yet lit. We didn't need much, but we stopped anyway. We didn't have much to do after Riven had gone off to see if he could find a map. Mera had mumbled something about "Buying arrows that actually fly straight," and ran off into the nearby woods.
That left me and Aien. Again.
He paused by a stall with wooden charms, hanging from a beam. Little things, really. Polished amulets that were engraved with symbols of the elements. A lucky charm.
"What are those for?" He asked
"Traveller's charms," I explained, "They're supposed to protect you. Or at least bring luck."
He tilted his head, looking over them with curiosity. "Do they work?"
I snorted. "If they did, I wouldn't have a scar from a croc bite."
Aien gave a small smile. It wasn't the first I'd seen from his, but they were elusive enough to catch me off guard. His expressions were soft, as if they're not meant for the world — only for whoever is close enough.
I cleared my throat. "We should go get something to eat. Preferably before Riven comes back with something dried and unidentifiable."
He nodded, and we drifted towards a small stall with eggs, some greens, and a fair amount of people outside. I let him order. He was shy with people, but they were kind. Maybe it was the way he spoke; polite without trying too hard. Maybe it was wind brushing through the market every time he breaths.
I watched. Watched as he ordered, as he waited, and as he spoke.
He was still figuring out who he is. That much was obvious. Still curious, still uncertain and still asking questions. Still unsure what being a Wisp even meant. I remembered how he looked when he asked if he was human, looking as if the answer could pull him apart. I remember how he'd looked at his hands after that, like they were holding something incredibly fragile.
I didn't know what he was. Not really. I dont even think he knows either.
He turned suddenly, catching me watching. I looked away too quickly.
"You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah," I said, forcing a shrug. "It's nothing."
He didn't question it.
We took our food to the edge of the market, finding the steps of an old staircase that looked like they had never been stepped on for the past year.
The stew was simple, but it was good; warm, and earthy. I tore a piece of bread in half and offered him the bigger portion without thinking. He blinked at it, then took it carefully.
We didn't talk while we ate. There wasn't really any need to. But I found myself glancing at him again. At the way the light caught his pale hair. At the faint smile he wore. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. Not yet. But I like the quiet between us. I liked the way he listened and had no need to fill the silence with noise.
He looked up and caught my eye.
"Thanks," He said, holding up the bread.
I smiled. "Don't get used to it."
But maybe. Maybe I wouldn't mind if he did.
===============================
It was the last day we would be spending in the town. The light began to break through the trees more than before. It was still early though, edging towards midday without the blinding intensity of the desert sun.
I felt bad for Aien. Once hearing his last name, the village isolated him. Out of a twisted mixture of fear and respect.
He was asleep, his breath shallow yet calm. He was taking it incredibly well, and I'd like to think it wasn't effecting him, but I knew otherwise. So did Mera. So did Riven.
I overheard them talking last night. They were planning on settling down in one of the holy cities that were protected by the Dawnbound Church. It probably meant that the party would disband. I'd be left without a group to travel with. It wasn't ideal. For me or Aien.
That left me with a decision to make.
I drew a soft sigh and tilted my head back against the stone wall of the inn as my hand drifted to the leather strap of my satchel. A thin, iron coin rested beneath a false seam.
No crest. No markings. Just a weight. A familiar one. A token from a life I lived.
They never took things personally. Even if someone left. People came and went, after all. That was how the twisted web worked, its threads always moving. I wasn't high ranking, but I was good.
Still am, probably. They'd welcome me back.
Especially now. With word of a Wisp of wind undoubtedly spreading across their networks, they were going to reach him eventually.
They'd want him. Not just as a curiosity, but as an asset. Someone like that could change things with just their presence. Sway things. Unravel things.
I wasn't sure if I'd stop them.
I didn't hate the organisation. The Pale Loom. They taught me a lot. Showed me the world from a young age. Sure, their teaching methods and trials were brutal, but it worked. There was power in it. There really was, and I'd taken my fair share. Even liked it, sometimes. The shadows had their own rules, and at least there, the masks where honest.
That said, I didn't want to see Aien caught in it. He wasn't made for that world. Not yet. Not like the rest of us. Not with that way he still tried to help strangers, still had that confused kindness in his voice when hew asked why people looked at him like that.
He wasn't ready for a place like the Loom. Rumour has it no one with the name 'Wisp' really is until they learn that lesson the hard way. All but one.
And I wasn't ready to throw him into it.
But, if the group disbanded. If I'm alone again. Going back is my best option. There's no point pretending otherwise. It was who I was. Who I was raised to be. Who I'd been and might be again.
I let the coin slip back into its place, turning my gaze towards the bed.
Aien stirred faintly, one hand near his face, fingers brushing air that danced softly around them. As if the wind liked him. Not just responded, liked.
The Loom would send someone. Eventually.
When they did, it would be Aien choosing. I've already found my answer to the question they might ask me.
But not today. Today, we were still a group. Still moving forward.
We still had time.