A City Beyond the Fog

At the end of the trail, a walled city rose from the mist.

Its towering spires pierced the clouds, banners fluttered in the wind, and the hum of life buzzed in the air. Smoke curled in colorful ribbons above the rooftops, and the roads bustled with carts, vendors, and voices shouting over one another in a dozen different tongues.

It was the first human city Liora had ever seen.

And her eyes lit up as if she’d stumbled into a fairytale.

“It’s so… big!” she gasped, climbing onto a rock to get a better view. “And look how many people! Different smells, weird sounds, and those little hanging flags — are those tents? What’s that colorful smoke over there?!”

“Market,” Kael said flatly, his golden eyes locked on the guards stationed at the gate. “Food, trinkets, and trouble.”

Liora spun around him in circles, nearly tripping over her own feet in excitement. Meanwhile, Kael was all caution. His cloak covered part of his face, hood drawn low, posture tight like a coiled spring.

He didn’t share her wonder. He saw risk in every corner.

“It won’t be easy to get in,” he muttered. “Especially with…” He flicked a glance toward her back.

“With what?” she asked, then followed his eyes.

Her wings. Shimmering and delicate, catching the light as they fluttered gently in the breeze.

“Oh… right. That.”

“You need to hide them,” he said.

“How?! Fold them into my shirt? Tie them up?” She attempted to bend one wing inward — it gave a sharp crack. “Ow.”

“That won’t work,” Kael sighed. “The cloak’s too short, and illusion magic draws attention if not cast perfectly.”

Liora scanned the surroundings.

Her eyes sparkled.

“That cloth hanging over there looks long!”

“That’s a tablecloth.”

“Perfect!”

Them.

Liora walked beside Kael, her wings bundled beneath the tablecloth, now tied crudely with ropes like a makeshift backpack. The cloth puffed oddly on her back, making her tilt forward slightly as she walked, but she wore a proud grin.

“You look like a walking laundry sack,” Kael said dryly.

“A cute laundry sack,” she replied, nose in the air.

As they approached the gates, two city guards stepped forward. One of them — squinty-eyed and skeptical — stared at Kael a little too long.

“Your face looks familiar. You been here before?”

Kael didn’t miss a beat. He dropped his voice half an octave.

“Not that I recall. Just a traveler. My sister doesn’t talk much, so don’t worry if she says something weird.”

Liora smiled stiffly and gave an awkward wave, trying very hard to look “not weird.” Which, of course, made her look extremely weird.

“She seems… unstable.”

“She doesn’t sleep well. Thinks everyone’s a goblin in disguise.”

“Ah… right. Go in before she starts screaming.”

They passed through quickly.

Once out of earshot, Liora hissed, “Sister? Really?!”

“What did you expect? ‘Fairy I picked up in the forest’? They’d never let us through.”

“You could’ve said ‘my fiancée’…”

Kael froze mid-step.

“You have no filter, do you?”

“Not a clue what that is.”

The city pulsed with life around them. Children ran between stalls, dogs barked in the distance, and musicians played lively tunes at the corners. Magic lights flickered above certain shops, enchanted signs shifted colors, and air was thick with spices, perfume, and the scent of metal and fire from nearby forges.

Liora was utterly enchanted. She stopped at every stall, sniffed every fruit, touched every bolt of fabric, and tried to strike up conversations with every vendor as if they were long-lost friends.

“Kael! What’s this? It has tiny balls inside!”

“It’s candy. No, you shouldn’t eat it if you don’t know what’s inside.”

“But what if I want to eat it?”

“Then eat it. And suffer the consequences.”

She bought it.

Five minutes later—

“My mouth is on fire! What was that?!”

“Hellberry pearls. Literally. You picked the red one, didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“You said you wanted it.”

She was crying and laughing at the same time, fanning her tongue dramatically. Kael didn’t even try to hide the smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

They eventually found shelter in a shabby little inn on the quieter side of town. The room was small, with two narrow beds separated by a flimsy wooden screen. The window didn’t close properly, and the air smelled faintly of dust and soap — but it was safe.

Liora flopped onto her bed face-first with a loud oof, then turned over to run her fingers across the coarse blanket.

“There’s… so much more to the world than I ever imagined,” she murmured, eyes half-lidded.

Kael was sitting on the floor, his sword within arm’s reach. He didn’t look up.

“And you’ve still seen only a sliver of it.”

She rolled onto her side to face him. “Will you show me the rest?”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then, still not meeting her eyes, he said, “If you want to keep traveling with me, you’ll need to learn how to blend in. And how to run.”

She smiled.

“That means yes. But you're too proud to admit it.”

He didn’t reply.

But she could see it — the subtle shift in his posture, the way his gaze lingered a moment too long. She knew what he meant. And it was enough.

She pulled the rough blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes with a soft, satisfied hum.

“I’m glad I met you, Kael.”

“…Go to sleep.”

But he didn’t move either. He stayed where he was, watching the moonlight shift across the floor, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing.

And for the first time in a long while…

He didn’t feel alone.