Recover

Jesse

The rain hasn’t let up. It lashes against the windowpane, hammers the roof in a steady roar that seeps through the inn’s walls. I sit at the end of Cayti’s bed, listening, watching.

She stirs. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then finding me. Recognition flickers across her face. She smiles - small, fragile - but tears already pool and spill down her cheeks.

“Jesse.”

I don’t hesitate. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her gently upright. She stiffens for a heartbeat, then clings to me. Her tears soak into my shoulder as her voice trembles against my ear.

“Jesse… I… I…”

I hold her tighter.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

Her sobs are quiet, but raw. We stay like this, unmoving, until her arms loosen and she eases back, wiping at her eyes with shaky fingers.

“H… how long was I out?”

“A day.”

She nods faintly, shame tugging at her expression.
“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head.
“Don’t be. If anything, I should’ve told you where I was going.”

Her gaze drifts downward, and only then does she notice - my usual fatigues are gone, replaced by commoner garb. And hers too; no trace of her mage outfit. She blinks, confusion working at her lips, but I answer before she can form the words.

“I brought you back here. Chelo and Hitomi took care of you. I ran errands for them, and stayed to watch you when they were busy.”

She swallows, voice barely above a whisper.
“C… can you thank them for me…?”

“I already did. But I’ll tell them again.”

Her eyes soften, wet but grateful.
“Wh… where were you, anyway?”

I let a smile touch my lips.
“Secret.”

She frowns weakly, then gives up with a sigh.
“Aw.”

I reach out, ruffling her hair.
“Get some rest. It’s still raining. We’re not going anywhere.”

She nods, and I guide her back down. The mattress sighs under her weight as she closes her eyes, slipping back into sleep almost at once. Her breathing steadies, slow and even.

I press the back of my hand to her forehead. Still warm - but not nearly as bad as yesterday. Relief loosens the knot in my chest.

Groaning, I stand. I should let Chelo know she woke up.

She wakes again in the evening. This time she sits up under her own strength, rubbing at her eyes. I’m crouched on the floor, inspecting the machine-gun belts, and the sudden movement startles me. I glance up. She’s already looking around, and when her eyes settle on me, she smiles softly.

“Oh, hello.”

I get to my feet, brushing my palms against my trousers, and smile back.
“Good evening.”

I step closer and lay the back of my hand gently across her forehead. She tilts her face toward me, watching.
“What’s the time?”

Her temperature is better - still warm, but easing steadily. I draw my hand away.
“Past dinner.”

She nods, and I give her a small smile.
“Are you hungry?”

She thinks about it for a moment, then nods again. I straighten up, already moving toward the door.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later I return, balancing a plate that Chelo and Hitomi prepared. Cayti brightens when I set it on her lap, the steam rising between us. She gives me that tired but grateful smile.

“Thank you. I trust you thanked the chef?”

I nod, and she doesn’t wait another heartbeat before digging in. I linger, watching her eat, before turning back to the half-disassembled belt of cartridges. The ritual steadies me - metal on metal, the faint click of brass sliding into place.

But my thoughts wander. The rain still drums against the roof, heavy enough to smother the town square; no announcements today, no reward posted yet for our last mission. That silence is both a blessing and a curse. The second reward could prove invaluable…but Cayti’s words from before gnaw at me. Asa called her a demon when Jira’s soul was absorbed. That sort of talk spreads like fire through dry grass. If he tells anyone, the Church will hear. And once they know, they’ll send hunters - for her, and by extension, for me.

We can’t leave yet, not while she’s like this. But waiting feels like tightening a noose around our own throats. I push the thought down, watching as she finishes her meal.

When she’s done, I take the plate back to the kitchen, offering Chelo and Hitomi another round of thanks. By the time I return, Cayti has already slipped under again, her chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. The sleep is good for her.

I sit back down, the lamplight glinting off brass, and pick up another cartridge. I sigh, rolling it between my fingers before sliding it back into place. The cycle repeats, steady and endless - spin, check, return. My gaze flicks, unbidden, toward the mental image of the folded parcel tucked inside Tyur’ma’s rear storage.

Cayti…

The word is a thought, a weight, an ache. I let it trail away into the quiet, and take up the next round.

When my eyes ease open the next day, I feel a light tickle against my cheek. My vision sharpens, and to my surprise, I see Cayti leaning over me. When she notices my recognition, she smiles.

“Good morning. How are you?”

I stutter in shock, nearly tripping over my own tongue.
“C-Cayti! What are you doing? You should be in bed!”

She leans back, giving me room to sit up, and twirls a lock of her hair with a faintly mischievous smile. She’s already dressed in her mage outfit again, looking far stronger than yesterday.

“I feel fine now.”

I shake my head in disbelief. She grins wider.
“It’s because I’m half-spirit. Sickness never lasts very long, as long as I get enough sleep.”

I nod slowly, still amazed, then swing my legs out of bed and stretch until my joints pop. Voices drift in from outside, and when I glance toward the window I see sunlight spilling across the streets. Life is already returning to normal, even with wide puddles gleaming across the cobblestones. Children splash through them, laughter ringing in the air, and for a moment the whole city feels cleansed by the storm.

I turn back to Cayti with a smile.
“Well, should we get breakfast?”

She nods eagerly, then catches my hands in hers.
“And then we need to talk, okay?”

I nod again, and her smile softens before she releases me. Together we head downstairs, where Chelo beams the moment she sees us.

“Well, would you look at that? Evvy, walking around like nothing ever happened!”

The nickname startles me, but Cayti only smiles, bowing her head.
“Chelo, I’m so sorry for all the trouble I caused.”

Chelo waves her hands quickly.
“Oh no, no! It was nothing at all. Please, raise your head.”

Cayti does, and Chelo’s grin brightens.
“Besides, we had so many good comments on your cooking. Thank you for that.”

She spins toward the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder.
“I’m assuming you two want breakfast?”

We nod in perfect sync. She laughs.
“Coming right up!”

I glance at Cayti, who glances back, and when I shrug she giggles. We sit together at a table, wait, and soon breakfast is brought out steaming hot. We eat quickly, return the dishes - earning another cheerful thanks from Chelo - then retreat upstairs again.

When the door closes behind us, I sit on the bed. Cayti joins me, her expression suddenly carrying a shadow. She speaks before I can.

“We have to leave.”

I nod without hesitation. No explanation is needed. We both know what’s waiting on the horizon.

“Where should we go?” I ask.

“Beastman territory.”

“Any specific country?”

She thinks for a moment.
“Sheinfeld. They should treat us well - if we return the favor.”

“What would that look like?”

She only shrugs.
“They’ll probably tell us.”

I nod.
“When do you want to leave?”

She shrugs again.
“When you’re ready.”

I laugh.
“Hey, don’t dump all the responsibility on me!”

Her grin flashes.
“Sorry. But really - when do you want to leave?”

I scratch my chin thoughtfully.
“Preferably after that second reward arrives. We might be cutting it close, but I reckon we’ll be fine.”

“That’s fine with me,” she agrees. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“I’d guess they’ll announce it within the next few days. Maybe even today.”

“Mm. You might be right.”

I smile, leaning back on my palms.
“So - what do you want to do today? A quest? Shopping?”

Instead of answering, she takes my hand in both of hers and looks directly into my eyes. Her voice is soft but steady.

“I want to go on a date.”

My heart thumps twice, hard enough to shake me, and for a brief instant I lose all sense of balance. But I recover quickly, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Okay. Where should we go?”

Her grin turns playful.
“I don’t know. Let’s go find out.”

A minute later we’re walking hand in hand through the streets of Ragin. We have no destination - only one goal: to enjoy each other’s company.

The sun shines down in brilliant contrast to the storm that had just torn through. The streets are alive: adventurers hustling about, civilians bent to their work, children racing and laughing as they splash through puddles left by the rain. Horse-drawn wagons creak past with loads of grain, timber, and cloth. A faint breeze brushes across my cheeks and ruffles Cayti’s hair, the air washed clean and fresh.

We wander without hurry, pointing out small curiosities to one another, laughing at the children’s antics, tossing playful jokes back and forth until our banter nearly tips into embarrassment. When it gets too bold we reel ourselves in, giggling at our own audacity.

Eventually, we drift toward the market. Colorful awnings ripple in the breeze, merchants call out their wares, and the smell of sizzling food mixes with herbs and leather. I point toward a stall where steam and sound rise in tandem.

“Want some lunch?”

Cayti blinks, then realises with surprise that it’s already midday. She nods eagerly.
“Sure, let’s see what they have.”

But it isn’t savory food at all. Instead, the stall sells skewers of candy, each crafted into impossibly intricate shapes. The woman behind the counter demonstrates: dipping sticks into a pot of molten sugar, drawing them out in sticky clumps, then summoning a precise, magical gust of wind. The liquid sugar stretches and curls, cooling into shapes - a coiled dragon on one stick, a fluffy bear on the other.

The detail is astounding: the dragon’s teeth glint sharp, every coil etched in sugar; the bear’s paws curl delicately around its stick, fine lines of fur running along its tiny arms.

I glance at Cayti, but she’s already nibbling at the bear, her eyes sparkling. I bite into the dragon. The candy melts instantly on my tongue, achingly sweet, utterly unhealthy, but divine - like the confectionary twin of doom tortoise meat.

Cayti lets out a blissful little sound. “These are amazing!”

The stallwoman beams. “Thank you.”

I fish a gold coin from my pocket and place it on the counter. She gasps, flustered.
“Th-this is too much!”

I shake my head.
“Take it, please. If Evren says they’re amazing, then you deserve it.”

Cayti nods in firm agreement, and the woman quickly tucks the coin away before anyone else can notice. She smiles wide.
“Come back anytime!”

We stroll away, savoring the candy until the skewers are bare. Tossing them into a barrel, Cayti sighs wistfully.
“It was over too quickly.”

I murmur agreement. But before long, something gleams in her eye and she veers toward another stall - this one laid out across wooden boxes draped in cloth. Jewelry glitters across its surface: necklaces, bracelets, rings, and more.

Cayti crouches to examine them, her gaze scanning carefully. I watch her instead, waiting for that telltale sparkle in her eyes. And when it comes, I follow her gaze to a silver necklace - a thin chain with a small butterfly pendant, its wings glimmering with purple stone.

She keeps browsing, but I step forward.
“Excuse me,” I say to the elderly merchant. “Could I get that necklace?”

He chuckles, eyes twinkling. “Ah, so you noticed too? Very good.”

Cayti looks up in surprise as he continues.
“Yes, you may. One gold.”

I hand over the coin without hesitation. The man pockets it and, leaning conspiratorially toward Cayti, murmurs, “Miss, I think he’s the one.”

Her cheeks flush red. He chuckles again as I lift the necklace. For a moment Cayti and I just stare into each other’s eyes, and then - without a word - she brushes her hair aside.

Carefully, I fasten the clasp around her neck. The pendant rests against her chest, catching the light, and she beams at me.
“Thank you. I’m going to treasure this for as long as I live.”

Her hand finds mine, warm and soft, and we walk away. The merchant’s voice floats after us, laughing gently.
“Oh, young love! What a joy…”

The noise of the market swallows his voice, but the air between us feels changed - closer, charged. That old man knew exactly what he was doing.

We wander until the afternoon light stretches long, before finally turning back toward the Flying Pig. We’ve skipped lunch, but neither of us minds. Our thoughts are elsewhere - on each other.

Rounding a corner, Tyur’ma comes into view. But so do the armored knights. An entire company waits nearby, their presence jarring against the afternoon calm.

We slow, still holding hands, as a robed official in their midst notices us and strides forward, catching the knights off-guard as they scramble to follow.

“Excuse me!” he calls. “Are either of you the owner of this beast?”

He points to Tyur’ma. I nod.

“Ah, then you must be Jesse. I bring a message from the governor regarding the second reward.”

My pulse quickens. “What is it?”

The man clears his throat as the knights array behind him.
“Jesse, for your actions in defeating the unusual skeleton, you are hereby granted the title of Baron. You will also receive one hundred platinum coins…”

He produces a heavy pouch and hands it to me.
“…and you have the personal thanks of His Majesty, the King.”

I take the pouch, but my mind reels. Title. Wealth. Recognition. Too much, too fast.

The robed man bows. “That is all. Good day.”

He turns, the knights wheeling behind him. But as they march away, more than one glances at Cayti, their stares lingering with contempt sharp enough to cut.

The sight rattles me. Cayti’s grip tightens on my hand. Her voice is low.
“Let’s go tomorrow. Please.”

I nod. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, but her eyes stay fixed on the retreating knights.

The intimacy of earlier lingers only as an ache, replaced now by unease. My heart pounds, and the truth cuts deep: how fragile it all is. How quickly joy can collapse under the weight of others.