Chapter 45 : road to Elandor

The hills thinned into rolling plains by the second day. Their path bent eastward, the air sharpening with a crisp edge that hinted at the lands beyond. Distant, faintly glowing treelines marked the border of East Geneva, a kingdom said to breathe magic with every gust of wind.
The Ember Couriers kept their pace steady, though the silence between them was growing brittle. 
The source of it was clear.
Arachne walked near the healer’s horse, her hands folded neatly. Lara, only a few paces away, adjusted her staff again and again, though she didn’t need to. Her calm mask was cracking, and everyone could see it.
Arachne’s lips curved slightly, almost a smile. “Dear, do you hate me ? ” Tell me, which of us failed him?”
The words hung heavy. Lara’s jaw tightened.
Aldah immediately threw herself between them, raising her hands as if blocking imaginary arrows. “Whoa, whoa—ladies, what's going on, We’re on the same side. Team Ember Couriers. Fire, loyalty, snacks, all that good stuff.”
Neither looked at her.
Vix, trudging beside the supply cart, snorted. “Better let them get it out, Aldah. East Geneva’s full of stubborn types—magic in their blood, pride in their bones. Guess we’re getting a preview.”
That caught Arachnee’s attention. “You’ve been there?”
Vix nodded, his voice settling into something steadier, as if reciting from memory. “East Geneva isn’t like the West. It’s older. Wilder. Forests that breathe, rivers that sing, stones that remember the steps of those who cross them. Elandor—the capital—is built where three great ley lines converge. It’s a city of spires grown from living crystal, markets full of enchanted goods, creatures walking freely beside men. Beautiful… and dangerous.”
Aldah whistled. “Sounds like a tourist trap with claws.”
“More like,” Vix said, “a place where the land itself tests you. If you don’t respect it, you won’t survive it.”
Their healer, riding quietly between them, finally found his voice. His name, they’d learned, was Thalen of Moonvale.
“My home lies on the western edge of those forests,” Thalen said, his voice soft but steady. “Moonvale village. We live by the river that runs silver under the moonlight. Our fields glow at night, and the creatures there—deer with antlers like starlight, foxes with ember eyes—they’ve walked among us for generations. We were… untouched, for a long time.”
Ryo tilted his head. “Were?”
Thalen’s gaze dropped. “The war spilled too close. Raiders burned our granaries. They took our children as hostages. Moonvale still stands, but…” His throat caught, and he shook his head. “I fear it will not, if help does not come soon.”
Silence fell again, heavy and grim.
Kael broke it this time. “And your courier?”
At that, Thalen glanced toward the rear of the column. A figure rode there, half-shrouded in a dark green cloak. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a calm that felt almost unnatural. His hood shadowed most of his features, but when he lifted his head briefly, Ryo caught the glint of silver eyes.
“This is my courier,” Thalen said quietly. “His name is Eryndor. He speaks little. But he has guarded me since I can't even remember.”
Aldah leaned sideways in her saddle, squinting at him. “Does he ever smile?”
Eryndor didn’t so much as blink.
“Nope,” Aldah concluded. “Stone statue with legs.”
Ryo almost laughed—but his eyes shifted, inevitably, to Arachne again. She was watching him this time, her gaze fixed and unblinking. For a heartbeat, he thought he saw recognition there, almost amusement, as though she knew how tightly he wound himself in her presence.
Lara noticed too. Her staff tapped sharply against the ground as she picked up her pace, putting herself deliberately between Arachne and the rest of the group.
Aldah groaned. “Oh, not again. Somebody tie them both to different horses before they set each other on fire.”
Vix muttered, “That’s your job, chatterbox. Keep the peace. I’ll keep the map.”
The day wore on like that, the road stretching beneath their boots and hooves, the tension never fully dissolving. Ryo said little, but inside, his thoughts churned. The memory of Arachne’s hands raised against him at Sunwhisper clashed with the sight of her now, walking calmly beside Kael.
If she’s truly a danger, why hasn’t Kael seen it? Or does he know, and simply not care?
The beast at his side rumbled low, as if sensing his unease. Its glowing eyes never left the horizon.
By the time the sun dipped low, painting the fields in copper and shadow, they made camp by the riverbank. Thalen sat close to the water, his gaze lost in the ripples. Lara tended the fire, Arachne sat opposite her with quiet composure, and the others busied themselves with gear.
It should have felt like safety. But to Ryo, it felt like the edge of a knife.