Chapter 21

Pretending For a While

The travellers’ camp was a mix of tarps stretched between weathered poles and scavenged materials repurposed into shelters. The plateau’s rocky surface offered some protection from the wind, but the night was still cold. They’d set up a large central fire that gave warmth.

The travellers were three families with a mix of generations. Children darted between the makeshift tents while elders huddled together near the fire, sharing stories of the road. If any of them harbored reservations about Maia and Matthias being scravs, they didn’t show it. Instead, they were overly warm and grateful, thanking them repeatedly for saving their lives earlier that day.

As they ate, the conversation drifted between casual topics—the quality of the stew, the unpredictability of the wasteland roads, and the travelers’ stories of the places they’d passed. The group was lively, despite the earlier attack, their gratitude to Maia and Matthias softening any usual wariness reserved for strangers.

“So, why are you all heading to Sanjura?” Maia asked, leaning forward, her bowl balanced on her knees.

“It’s not just one reason,” Karra answered. “Folk say it’s safer there , more work too… but we’ve been hearing things. About the Sanjuric trying to turn things around.”

“Turn things around how?” Maia perked up.

“Rumors, mostly. They’ve started trying to revive the planet. Using salvaged Verdant tech. That’s what folk are saying anyway.”

“Last I was in Lindrao,” Matthias put in, “folk there still blamed the Verdant for the decay. Surprised to hear you’re putting stock in Verdant tech being the answer.”

“Aye, most still do,” Karra shrugged. “Hard not to, considering the war came so close to Lindrao. Can’t find many families around here that weren’t scarred by it.”

“So, you think the Verdant weren’t to blame?” Maia tilted her head as she spoke.

“We don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. What I do know is that there’s no point praying to dead gods for salvation. The Archons are gone. If we’re going to fix anything, it’ll be us that has to do it.”

Before either Maia or Matthias could respond, Karra backtracked, glancing at them apologetically. “Sorry. I meant no offense. You being scravs and all. I wasn’t thinking—”

Matthias waved her off with a faint chuckle, his tone dry. “Trust me, I don’t care about any dead Archons.”

“If not the Verdant,” Maia asked between spoonfuls of her stew. “Then what do you think caused the decay?”

The group exchanged uncertain glances, and it was clear none of them had a satisfying answer. Finally, a youth around Maia’s age spoke up, his tone tinged with defiance. “I reckon it was the Archons themselves. If they were going to die, they’d make sure the planet went down with them.”

“That’s enough, Kai,” an older man snapped, though the boy simply shrugged and fell silent.

“It wasn’t the Archons,” an elderly woman chuckled softly, “I saw one once, you know. During the war.” There was more than a few groans and eye rolls from the group as she spoke. This had the feel of a story told a thousand times. Maia grinned, leaning forward. Oh she’d make them all listen to it again.

“You actually saw one?” Maia asked.

“I was working in a little bakery on Tharas street. You know it?”

“Is that in Lindrao ”Maia asked.

“‘Course it is, girl,” the woman scoffed. “it’s only the biggest street in the whole city.”

“I only really know the undercity,” Maia grumbled but the woman didn’t hear her, pressing on with her story.

“Oh, when he passed down the boulevard, everyone had come out to cheer. A giant, beautiful creature. He looked like a man,” the woman went on, her eyes distant but alive with wonder. “But no man ever stood so tall. Taller than the buildings, he was, and his wings… oh, his wings! They were like stained glass, shimmering with every color you could imagine. And his head…” She hesitated, her voice dropping, as if saying it aloud might break the spell. “It was the head of an eagle. Fierce. Noble.”

“What was he doing?” Maia asked, her voice soft.

“Marching. Leading a retinue of scravs and soldiers. Dozens of them, all in formation, their armor gleaming like the scales of a dragon. He passed down the street I worked on, close enough for me to feel the air pulsating with his power. I thought—how could something so beautiful, so powerful, ever fail? How could we ever lose, with a being like that fighting for us?”

Stolen story; please report.

There was a pause of silence then from the group. Because the Archons had failed.

“That was Altheon,” Matthias said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness. Maia turned to him, surprised to hear him speaking up. “One of the patron Archons of this region. Most of Lindrao’s army served under him.”

“Yes… yes that was him,” the woman said wistfully, “I often wonder how he fell.”

“How many were there, at the end of the war?” Kai—the young lad that had spoken out against the Archons earlier—asked hesitantly.

There were murmurs of uncertainty, guesses tossed around the fire, but Matthias spoke up again. “Seven. And they all fell at the last battle at Rhyvellon Ridge.”

Then abruptly, Matthias turned to look at Karra. “What’s the road like ahead? Straight shot to Lindrao, or should we be watching for more trouble?” This was more expected behaviour of her father. Maia was well accustomed to him giving a small nugget of information about his time in the war then suddenly shifting off the topic.

“The gorge you’re in now?” Karra took a sip from her tin cup. “Leads straight into the main canyon housing the Undercity. If you’re aiming for the high city, though, you’ll want to take higher ground soon. Steeper climb, but the view alone’s worth it. If it’s the Undercity you’re after, keep to the gorge. It'll take you right there.”

Later, as the night deepened, the group’s mood lightened further. Matthias seemed more at ease, even chatting with Karra as if they were old friends. He gestured at the map Karra had pulled out, marking out routes to Sanjura with his finger. “If you’re heading south, stick to the tracks along here,” he advised. “Less chance of running into scuttlers around these parts. There’s a pass about three days out; it’s narrow but you guys are on foot so you can pass through without trouble, it’ll save you a good week of trekking.”

“Appreciate that,” Karra said, giving him a genuine nod of thanks. “You’ve been down this way before?”

“More than once,” Matthias admitted, his voice dipping into something almost nostalgic.

Nearby, Maia sat cross-legged, soaking in the easy camaraderie. It wasn’t often they stopped long enough to hear other people’s stories. An older man recounted his youth chasing scuttlers for bounties, exaggerating wildly to the group’s laughter. Another spoke about the dangers of the trade roads near Sanjura, spinning tales of daring escapes from raiders. Maia listened intently, her chin propped in her hand, smiling as she listened.

Kai—who’d been stealing glances at her all evening—finally mustered the courage to scoot closer to her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “So, uh… Lindrao, huh?” he started, trying to sound casual.

“Yep,” Maia replied.

“That’s cool, I guess.” He hesitated, then added, “You’ve got family there?”

“Something like that,” she said, glancing at him sideways. He looked nervous, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. She tilted her head. “Why?”

“Well, I was just thinking… Lindrao’s got a lot of guys. And, uh, you’re… you know.” He gestured vaguely in her direction, his cheeks coloring in the firelight. “They’re gonna notice.”

“Notice?”

“Yeah,” he said, gaining a little confidence. “You’re, uh… you’ve got that whole hot edgy scrav warrior thing going on.”

“That’s sweet,” she replied, her voice light, “but I don’t think Lindrao guys are really my type.”

“Oh.” He shifted awkwardly, deflating a little. “What’s your type then?”

“Not sure yet,” she shrugged, a small smirk playing on her lips, “but I know it’s not someone who calls me a ‘hot edgy scrav warrior’.”

The group, who had clearly been eavesdropping, burst into laughter. Kai groaned, burying his face in his hands, though he was grinning despite himself. “Alright, I deserved that,” he muttered.

The rest of the evening passed in easy conversations around the group. Maia noticed how her father seemed at ease for the first time in days, even cracking the occasional dry joke. It wasn’t often she saw him like this, and it made her heart ache a little—wistful for a version of him she wished she knew better. Maybe it was because these people already knew they were scravs. He didn’t have to hold a piece of himself back. Didn’t have to hide that truth.

Eventually, the fire’s embers dimmed, and one by one, the group began to retire to their makeshift tents and bedrolls. Maia and her father returning to the Dame, still parked up down in the gorge.

The next morning, she woke to the sound of voices outside. It was a comforting sound, the chatter and laughter of the camp coming alive with the new day. It was nice to pretend they were part of this small community, even for a little while. They joined the group again for breakfast before finally parting ways.

Karra had even tried to convince Matthias to join them on the road south to Sanjura but he politely declined. Maia wasn’t surprised. He always preferred their solitude, even when the company was good.

Then, it was just the two of them again, back in the cab of their truck.

Maia waited for a while in silence, expecting a lecture from her father for what she’d done the previous day.

But it never came.

She didn’t want to apologise. She didn’t feel like she’d done anything wrong. She’d saved those people. Maybe they might have fought off those scuttlers, but not without some casualties. Kai—who’d stumbled through a clumsy attempt to flirt with her the night before—might’ve been lying dead in that gorge if it hadn’t been for her. She was not going to apologise for that. Whatever her father thought, she knew in her gut it had been the right call.

After about an hour of quiet, Matthias finally spoke, his voice soft.

“You were right… I’m sorry.”

Maia blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected apology. For a moment, she considered gloating, rubbing it in just a little—but instead, she took the high road. “Thank you,” was all she said.

“You did fantastic,” he added after a beat, his gaze flicked to hers briefly. “Well done.”

A warmth spread through her chest at the words. She’d been waiting to hear them, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

“Thanks, Ba,” she replied softly.