The wind in the outer jungle was slow and warm, brushing low against the roots like a whisper that didn’t want to be heard. Thessia stood at its edge, arms crossed, eyes narrowed beneath her hood.

  She didn’t know why she was here.

  No — she did. She just hated the reason.

  "Maybe if I fight him... I can forget him."

  The thought felt childish. But ever since that damn idiot healed her arm, leapt in front of her to take a beast's strike, then smiled like nothing happened—her chest hadn’t been quiet. The worst part? He didn’t even flirt. Didn’t even try.

  He just looked at her like… she mattered.

  She clicked her tongue and stepped into the wildwood.

  —

  Deeper in the forest, vines wrapped like tendrils around ancient stone markers. Every shadow had weight here. The ground pulsed faintly with unseen life, like the jungle was breathing.

  Something hissed.

  She spun, blades drawn instantly.

  A long, coiling shape slithered from the canopy. It moved like it didn’t belong to gravity — like it was cutting across the soul of the forest itself. Its eyes glowed the color of old blood and cracked jade. Its tongue flickered in slow circles, tasting her fury.

  Siv’Varth.

  His voice didn’t touch her ears. It touched her spine.

  “Still angry. Still confused. Still clinging to blades when the truth is an open hand.”

  She stepped forward. “Speak again, and I’ll slit that smug neck.”

  The cursed serpent tilted its head, amused.

  “Ah... So fierce. Yet your heartbeat stutters when you think of him.”

  Her eye twitched. She gripped her dagger tighter.

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Don’t I?” he hissed, circling closer, leaving no trail in the grass. “You came to find him. But not for justice. Not for closure. For answers you don't want to ask.”

  She moved to strike.

  But a voice cut through the rising tension.

  “Stop.”

  Rell emerged from the treeline, barefoot, shirt slightly torn at the shoulder, looking like he hadn’t slept in a day. But his eyes were clear — calm like moonlight on water.

  He looked between them, then at Siv’Varth.

  “You. Again.”

  The snake offered a mock bow.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Always where imbalance coils. And you’ve begun tilting the scale.”

  “Saving kids. Not crime.”

  “No,” Siv’Varth said. “But what follows might be.”

  The air felt heavier. Siv’Varth’s coils brushed the bark of a dying tree, and the bark withered at the touch.

  “The world has leaned blessed too long. Angels. Sanctuaries. Sigils. You tip further, and the backlash will drown it all.”

  Rell stayed quiet.

  “So you want him to just sit back?” Thessia snapped. “Let kids get butchered for balance?”

  “I want him to act in awareness, not impulse.”

  Siv’Varth turned his full body toward Rell now.

  “A caravan of sacred hatchlings was taken from the Deepgrove. Adventurers and smugglers plan to trade them in Blackhowl Canyon. Intervene, and it may ripple across cursed and blessed alike.”

  Thessia frowned. “Why tell him this if you don’t want him to act?”

  “Because he already will. This way, he acts with eyes open.”

  Rell gave a soft exhale. His eyes turned toward Thessia briefly.

  Then: “We go.”

  Siv’Varth nodded slowly. “As I expected.”

  He slithered backward into the shadow of a crooked tree — and vanished.

  For a long moment, only the wind spoke.

  —

  They were walking. Quietly. The jungle thinned slightly as they reached the outer hills. Light poked through in fingers, soft on the moss beneath their boots.

  “…So.” Thessia finally broke the silence.

  “You’re taking orders from a giant snake now?”

  “Not order. Truth.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And you just trust that freak?”

  Rell looked at her, then at the forest.

  “Not trust. But listen. Balance not lie. People do.”

  She slowed her pace. “You’re harder to read than a royal contract, you know that?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “I’m only coming because if you run headfirst into a troll den again, you’ll get your spine chewed out.”

  He nodded.

  “…Thanks.”

  She blinked. “Wait—you actually said thanks?”

  He grinned slightly.

  She looked away quickly.

  They walked a bit further. Her eyes kept drifting to his shoulders. Then his back. Then the small scar still red near his side.

  Why the hell did that make her feel…

  She shook her head hard. No. Not now. Not ever.