Sea Warriors

Aaron's wounds were recovering swiftly, but his mind refused to rest. Again and again, he replayed the battles in the dungeon, examining every movement, every decision, every mistake. He searched for a different answer, another strategy, another path he could have taken.

He knew he had not fought alone. Damian had stood beside him, and Maddox had broken through the barriers to reach him in time. Without them, the battle would have ended very differently.

But that was exactly what troubled him.

How could he have handled it alone?

He imagined different spells, tactics, and combinations of magic, searching for a solution he might have overlooked. Every possibility ended the same way. There was no answer.

For years, he had watched his mother carry the burden of the cave in silence. She had never complained or asked anyone else to shoulder it for her. For once, he wanted to be the one who lifted that burden from her shoulders.

Instead, he had nearly died. Damian had nearly died, and Maddox had been heavily injured. Rather than solving the problem, Aaron felt as though he had only created another one.

The realization lingered long after the pain from his wounds had begun to fade.

Meanwhile, Maddox had disappeared on some sort of business. Aaron neither knew nor particularly cared where the old warrior had gone.

"Wolfie is a free-wandering spirit."

That was how Dad described him, anyway.

Damian, on the other hand, had no trouble settling into life at the cottage. The Green Forest, the quiet surroundings, and the warmth of the little home suited him far more than he had expected.

Leave him stranded in a desert, and he'd somehow find a reason to throw a feast, Aaron thought.

Damian's broken ribs were healing swiftly, and most of the bruises from the battle had already begun to fade. Only one injury refused to make sense.

The pain in his back remained.

There were no visible wounds, yet every now and then, a dull ache returned without warning. Even Damian himself couldn't explain it.

He noticed Nilly watching him whenever he shifted uncomfortably or flinched from the mysterious pain. It was almost as if she knew something he didn't.

The girl with jet-black hair and vibrant greenish-blue eyes was rarely alone. The tiny red bird was always somewhere nearby, perched on her shoulder, circling above her, resting in her hair, or following close behind.

A familiar, they called it.

Damian had never seen anything like the bond they shared. There was an energy about Nilly that drew people toward her. Her strength, kindness, and carefree spirit made her impossible to ignore.

More often than not, Damian found himself watching from a distance, unable to gather the courage to approach her.

He had always been good with people.

So why did this feel like a battle?

Nilly, meanwhile, was adjusting to a life that no longer belonged entirely to her.

Sharing her thoughts with another presence was overwhelming. Sometimes it was comforting, and sometimes it was unbelievably annoying. Yet every fiber of her being wanted to understand it.

Her mana felt stronger, her body lighter, and her senses sharper. Magic no longer felt like something she struggled to control.

It was exhilarating.

There was only one problem.

"Frey," Nilly said, folding her arms. "I told you to stop browsing through my memories."

"But you are curious about that boy, aren't you?" Frey replied through their bond.

Nilly froze.

"Frey…"

"What?"

"Leave my thoughts alone."

Nilly found Aaron exactly where she had left him. The little snow sheep he had conjured wandered lazily around the room, occasionally bumping into the furniture before changing direction. It had always been her favorite.

She quietly sat beside his bed.

"There's so much I don't know, Nilly," Aaron said after a long silence.

His eyes remained fixed on the tiny creature made from his own magic.

"I want to learn. I want to explore."

He paused.

"And I want to be enough on my own."

Nilly studied his expression. Normally, she would have teased him, made a joke, or said something ridiculous just to pull him out of his own head.

Not today.

"Aaron…" she said softly. "Did you talk to Mom?"

His gaze dropped.

"Why?"

"She's already disappointed in me."

Nilly frowned.

"What?"

"I was supposed to solve it for her," Aaron replied quietly. "Not create another problem."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"First of all," Nilly said, "you were never supposed to do anything."

She folded her arms.

"Second…"

"Mom and Dad were worried about you. There's no doubt about that."

She leaned forward slightly.

"Mom definitely needed some time to simmer down. And Dad just went along with it."

"But you have no idea how insanely proud they both are."

"Especially after Bear Guy"—she paused for emphasis—"I mean Maddox, explained what you did."

Aaron looked at her, unconvinced.

Nilly sighed.

"I don't think you understand what happened while you were unconscious."

She considered where to begin.

"So… where do I even begin?"

"Well…"

"There was Big Guy and Short Guy, then I used the vine spell, then I fell into a ditch, then Frey went zap—"

"Eleanor," Aaron interrupted gently. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and talk slowly."

Nilly took a deep breath.

"Right."

She told Aaron about the night she wandered into the forest alone, the two spies she had discovered, and the strange flaming sword that had nearly ended her adventure. Then came the ditch, the little red bird, the extraordinary thunder magic, and finally, the contract that had bound them together.

Aaron listened without interrupting, his surprise growing with every detail.

"Nilly…"

She looked at him.

"You went into the forest alone?"

Nilly answered with nothing more than a death stare.

Aaron immediately closed his mouth. After everything he had done in the dungeon, he could hardly lecture her about taking risks.

"Mom was so worried," Nilly continued. "She kept crying. She wasn't eating properly. I didn't know what to do."

Aaron lowered his head, her words hitting him harder than he had expected.

"And you still think they're disappointed in you?" Nilly asked. "Aaron, what you three did was so incredible they thought more than a dozen Veilkeepers were involved."

Aaron blinked.

"They really thought that?"

Nilly nodded.

"They did."

Aaron frowned thoughtfully.

"Wait... what are Whalekeepers anyway?"

He looked at Nilly.

"Some kind of sea warriors?"

"Exactly!" Nilly exclaimed, pointing at him. "That's what I thought!"

Aaron smiled.

"And?"

"And no one will explain anything!" she complained.

For the first time in days, Aaron laughed.

Just then, Frey fluttered in through the open window and landed lightly on the bed. She tilted her head, studying Aaron for a long moment.

"This guy…" Frey murmured through the bond. "He's like the moon and the night sky."

She paused.

"Hauntingly beautiful."

Nilly stared at the little bird before bursting into laughter.

Aaron looked at her, completely confused.

"What?"

Nilly tried to compose herself.

"Nothing."

"That has never meant nothing."

Before she could answer, Frey flew across the room and settled comfortably into Aaron's messy silver hair as though it were the most natural place in the world.

That only made Nilly laugh harder.

Aaron reached up carefully, feeling the tiny familiar resting on his head. He didn't move her away, and his expression gradually softened.

For a moment, he seemed to be considering everything Nilly had just told him: the forest, the danger, and the little bird that had stayed by his sister's side when no one else could.

"Thank you, Frey," he said quietly.

Nilly's laughter faded into a warm smile. She knew exactly what he meant.

Frey remained nestled comfortably in Aaron's silver hair, as if accepting his gratitude.