I've always liked being alone.Not because I don't like people—but because I like quiet things.The way a breeze moves the leaves. The way the paint dries slowly in the sun. The way silence says something when no one is speaking.
But today, something changed.
I was by the riverbank, trying to paint a lily pad floating in the shade.
I'd nearly finished when I heard a voice behind me—clear, bright, and curious.
"You're Ember, right?"
I turned. A boy stood a few feet away. A little taller than me, with sun-browned skin and messy golden hair. His eyes were the color of river stones—gray and sharp.
"I'm Ruen," he said, smiling like it came easy to him. "You live near the blacksmith, yeah?"
I nodded. "What gave me away?"
He pointed to the small dagger at my belt. "Only Holgar makes hilts that plain."
I laughed softly. "He says decoration is for people who don't use things."
Ruen grinned. "He says that to everyone."
A moment later, another figure appeared, quiet as a breeze.
A girl, small and soft-eyed, with long dark hair tied with a ribbon the color of dried rose petals. She held a basket of herbs, and her eyes flicked between me and Ruen like she wasn't sure if she'd interrupted something.
"This is Linna," Ruen said, nudging her gently. "She's shy but she's smart. She knows every plant in the forest."
Linna smiled nervously. "Not every plant…"
"Most," Ruen said proudly.
I smiled back. "I'm Ember."
"I know," she said, eyes lowering. "You're the boy who paints."
I blinked. "I am?"
She nodded. "Miss Darya hung one of your cloths in her window. The flowers. I look at it every time I walk past."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I just said, "Thanks."
The three of us ended up by the riverbank for hours.
Ruen talked about how he once climbed the old church roof just to see what the village looked like from above. "It was small. I think I liked it more from the ground," he admitted.
Linna pointed out mushrooms that were safe to eat and ones that would send you to sleep for a whole day. I painted one of each, labeling them carefully.
We didn't talk about big things. Not really.
We talked about what we liked. Where we'd been. What we wanted to do next.
Ruen said he wanted to explore the hills beyond the forest and find old ruins.
Linna said she wanted to grow a garden that bloomed all year round.
I said I wanted to paint the whole village—every face, every tree, every season—so that nothing would ever be forgotten.
They both looked at me like that wasn't strange at all.
Before we went home, Ruen pulled a stick from the river and swung it like a sword.
"Next time," he said, "let's go exploring."
Linna hugged her basket close. "Only if we're careful."
I smiled. "Only if we're very careful."
That night, I painted their faces.
Ruen, with his bright eyes and bold grin.Linna, with her thoughtful gaze and the shadow of a smile.And me, in the middle—not alone this time.
Three children under the same sky.Different, but steady.
And somehow, together.