The forest felt like it was closing in on us.

Every time I glanced over my shoulder, the path we’d taken seemed narrower, the trees crowding closer together. I could feel the whispers in the back of my mind, scratching like nails on a chalkboard, but I kept my mouth shut. Kiera had made it clear that talking wouldn’t help.

After what felt like hours, we stumbled upon a river—a small, winding stream cutting through the twisted landscape. The water sparkled faintly in the dim light, reflecting the warped shapes of the trees above.

Kiera stopped, lowering her sword as she surveyed the area. “We’ll rest here,” she said, her voice clipped.

I didn’t argue. My legs ached, my head throbbed, and my stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots. I sank to the ground by the edge of the river, letting out a shaky breath.

The water looked… clean. Almost too clean. It rippled unnaturally, the surface smooth even as it flowed over jagged rocks. I hesitated before cupping my hands and dipping them into the stream.

The water was icy cold, stinging my skin, but it felt refreshing as I lifted it to my lips.

“Careful,” Kiera said, glancing at me as she knelt a few feet away. “Not everything here is what it seems.”

I froze, mid-sip. “You could’ve mentioned that before I started drinking.”

She shrugged. “If it was poisonous, you’d know by now.”

“Great,” I muttered, setting the water down.

Kiera pulled a whetstone from her pack, running it slowly along the edge of her blade. The rhythmic scraping sound filled the silence, oddly soothing.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I watched her for a moment, trying to read her expression. Her movements were precise, practiced, and her green eyes stayed fixed on the sword as though it was the only thing that mattered.

“You’ve done this a lot, haven’t you?” I asked.

She didn’t look up. “What gave it away?”

“The way you fight,” I said. “The way you carry yourself. You don’t just survive here—you know how to survive here.”

Finally, she paused, glancing up at me with a faint smirk. “And what about you? What’s your big survival strategy? Aside from tripping over your own feet.”

I flushed, looking away. “I’m working on it.”

“Good answer.” She went back to sharpening her blade, the smirk fading into something more serious. “If you want to survive in Aetherion, you have to be ready to make hard choices. This place doesn’t give second chances.”

I hesitated, my fingers brushing the edge of the shard still tucked into my belt. “But… you do. You saved me back there. Twice.”

Her movements slowed, just for a moment. “Don’t read too much into it. You’re useful. That’s all.”

I frowned. “Useful how? You barely know me.”

She sighed, setting the whetstone down and leaning back on her hands. “I didn’t always work alone, you know.”

That caught me off guard. “What happened?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted to the water, her expression unreadable.

“I trusted the wrong people,” she said finally. “Thought we’d have a better chance if we stuck together. Turns out, I was wrong.”

“What did they do?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“They left me behind. When things got bad, they decided I wasn’t worth the risk. They took the supplies and ran.” Her voice was steady, but I could hear the anger buried underneath.

I didn’t know what to say.

“You’ve got that look,” she said, glancing at me with a faint smile.

“What look?”

“The one that says, ‘People are terrible, but I can still save them.’”

I shrugged. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s a dangerous thing.” She stood, sliding her sword back into its sheath. “Come on. We’ve rested long enough.”

I pushed myself to my feet, wincing as the ache in my legs flared up again.

“Do you ever slow down?” I asked, following her back toward the path.

“Not if I can help it,” she said without looking back.

The forest seemed even darker now, the whispers growing fainter but more deliberate, like they were waiting for something.

As I adjusted my grip on the shard, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Kiera was right.

In Aetherion, hesitation was just another way to die.