Grey Eyes

Morning sunlight filtered weakly through the cracks in the boarded windows. The fire from last night had long faded, leaving only a faint trail of smoke curling from the hearth.

Kai stirred. His neck ached, and his right arm had gone numb from sleeping upright against the stool. Rose was already awake. Her robe hung to dry by the window, and she was kneeling beside her pack, fastening the straps with practiced ease.

“You’re up early,” he murmured.

“I would rather not stay asleep if I can help it,” she replied without looking back. She tugged on her boots and stood, raising the bag over her shoulder. “We continue north. I’d like to see the next town before sundown.”

Kai nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You sound like someone who’s already been walking for hours.”

“I have,” she said.

By the time they stepped outside, the air carried a crisp chill, the kind that belonged to untouched wilderness. The faint scent of corpses still lingered on the wind. Vultures called somewhere above, though softly, as if even they understood how thin the line between peace and danger was here.

They walked for hours through the forest. Sunlight shifted between the trees, breaking through the dense canopy in trembling streaks. The ground was uneven, roots sticking out like the bones of the earth. Every so often, Rose would stop to listen, her head turning slightly, sensing the mana flow around them.

Nothing stirred.

Kai broke the silence. “Still nothing. Not even lesser beasts.”

“And that’s a good thing?” she asked absently.

He smirked. “You’re the first person I’ve met disappointed about that.”

Rose’s voice was calm, but her expression betrayed her mood. “Of course there aren’t any. The smart ones are staying away from us.” Her lips pressed into a faint line. “Which means the chance of finding something edible is decreasing.”

Kai gave a soft laugh. “I’ll take alive over fed.”

She didn’t answer, but the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth told him she heard.

The forest began to thin. Trees stood farther apart until the shadows gave way to open light. Before them stretched a dirt road, cracked but unmistakably shaped by human hands. Moss crawled between the stones, and patches of grass had grown through the old wagon ruts.

“This used to lead to my village,” Kai said, kneeling to touch the ground. “Before the collapse, maybe.”

They followed it in silence. The sun had risen higher now, painting the world in soft gold. A gentle breeze swept through as the trees faded completely behind them. What spread ahead was a field of wheat, tall and golden, bowing to the wind like waves on a quiet sea.

For the first time in days, Kai’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s almost peaceful.”

Rose walked ahead, her hands brushing the wheat as they passed through. “Too peaceful,” she muttered.

He smiled faintly. “You’re determined to ruin the mood.”

Then it came—a sound, faint but distinct. The rustle of something moving through the stalks that wasn’t the wind. Both stopped instantly. Kai’s hands lifted toward the noise.

He took point as usual, stepping forward through the golden sea, the wheat parting with soft whispers around him. Rose followed, her eyes tracing every subtle shift in the field.

The sound grew clearer—a heavy, deliberate movement. Then, as they broke into a small clearing, Kai froze.

A cow stood before them.

It was broad-shouldered and healthy, its hide clean, its eyes unclouded. It chewed lazily on dry grass, unconcerned.

Rose’s mouth fell open slightly. “Is that…?”

Kai crouched slowly, studying the animal. “A cow,” he said quietly. “And it’s alive. Not mutated, not decayed.” His mind raced. “If it’s survived this long, the mana concentration here must be incredibly low—almost like Amo’s levels.”

But Rose wasn’t listening. Her eyes gleamed in wonder and hunger. “A real cow,” she whispered, almost reverent. “I did not expect my wish would come true.”

A second sound cut her off. Hoofsteps. Another cow emerged from the field’s edge.

Rose’s excitement flared until a human figure stepped into view behind them. A woman carrying a bundle of hay. She froze mid-step, her gaze locking onto the two strangers standing among her livestock.

The hay fell from her hands.

“Wait—” Kai started, but she was already running, arms flailing as she bolted through the wheat she had come from.

“Damn it!” he hissed, springing after her.

Rose followed, her robe flaring as she moved. But her thoughts weren’t on the woman’s speed—she’d caught something in that brief glance.

Her eyes.

They weren’t brown or green or blue. They were grey.

Rose’s breath caught as she ran. A Grey-Eyed.

The chase carried them past the last stretch of the wheat and into a clearing ringed by old wooden palisades. Beyond them stood makeshift homes of uneven planks and patched roofs. Smoke rose from cooking fires, voices murmured inside.

The woman sprinted through the half-open gate, shouting something incomprehensible. Two guards turned, weapons already drawn, spears leveled toward the outsiders.

“Stop right there!” one barked.

Kai halted, his boots digging into the dirt. Rose slowed beside him, her gaze sweeping the guards—their posture, their weapons, their faces.

And there it was again.

Grey eyes.

She felt a shiver trace her spine. Not because of who they were, but because of who she almost was.

__________

The wind carried the faint crackle of the fires within the walls, but no other sound.
The two guards stood firm, the grey in their eyes dull but steady — the mark of casters long severed from dance of caster and stabilizer.

Kai raised his hands slightly. “We’re not here to fight.”

The taller guard, his voice gravelled and tired, stepped forward. “That’s what they all say. Who sent you?”

“No one,” Kai replied. “We’re travelers. Looking for shelter and food, if there’s trade to be had.”

The man’s jaw flexed. “Trade?” His gaze darted between them. “We have no use for gold.”

Kai nodded once. “Then we can barter services. Work, protection—whatever you need.”

The shorter guard’s eyes flicked to Kai’s neck, catching the faint traces of the marks still etched into his skin. “So you’re her stabilizer, then?”

“Yes,” Rose said simply.

Both guards stiffened.

Something in the air shifted—barely perceptible, but enough to set their instincts on edge. It wasn’t just her tone. It was the calm stillness in her gaze, the depth of those ocean-coloured eyes that made their mana quiver.

One of the guards murmured, “Look at her cloak.”
“What about it?” the other asked.
“The colour. White and gold. That’s what the Capital used to classify as the high order of mages. The kind they wrote about in the archives.”

The first guard swallowed, suddenly unsure of his footing.

Rose’s voice broke the silence—low, even, but final.
“If we meant you harm, your hearts would have already stopped beating.”

The taller guard’s knuckles whitened on his spear. The shorter one took half a step back.

Then a woman’s voice cut through the tension. “What’s the commotion?”

Both men straightened. A woman approached from within the gates—older, her hair tied back in a rough braid streaked with silver. Her eyes were warm brown, clear and alive, the kind of colour that hadn’t dulled under mana’s strain. She carried herself with the kind of quiet authority that didn’t need proving.

“Outsiders,” one guard reported quickly. “Caster and stabilizer. Asking for shelter.”

The woman studied them both without flinching. “We have no use for gold.”

Kai inclined his head. “Then allow us to earn our stay. If you need help with something, we can assist.”

Her gaze lingered on him, measuring. “And if I say no?”

“Then we’ll leave peacefully,” he replied.

A faint smile touched her lips. “Not many travelers keep their manners this far north.” She looked to the guards. “Let them in. Keep watch, but don’t point your weapons unless they give you reason.”

The guards cautiously stepped away from the entrance allowing them in.

Inside, the settlement unfolded with rows of crooked wooden homes patched with a mix of plant and cloth, smoke rising from small fires, the sound of people going about the fragile rhythm of survival.

Rose’s eyes moved from face to face. The adults bore the dull grey hue that marked those who didn't get a chance to tether. Children darted between them—mostly stabilizers by the look of their faint, untouched auras.

Her steps slowed. She watched them chase each other through the dust, their laughter bright and careless, untouched by the knowledge that their time was borrowed.

“They won’t live past fifteen,” she murmured.

Kai turned, hearing the shift in her tone.

Rose’s gaze lingered on the children a moment longer before flicking toward him. He could’ve been one of them. Another stabilizer waiting for a caster that never came.

This small community was doing everything it could just to stay alive—to stay human. And somehow, they’d built something that still felt like life.

She let out a quiet breath. “That explains how they’re able to keep this place safe from monsters.”

Kai followed her gaze toward the brown-eyed woman now giving orders to a few watchmen. “Her?”

Rose nodded faintly. “She must be at least C-class, maybe even B-class. I can’t sense anyone stronger here.” Her tone softened. “That kind of power alone could ward off smaller creatures.”

The name reached her ears as one of the guards called out, “Sylvia!”

Rose’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Fitting.”