Exhaustion weighed heavily on Belle as they trudged along; they had been walking for hours, and he hadn’t slept in over a day. “Aren’t you tired?” he asked Sequoia. She stared straight ahead, her determination unwavering, yet a subtle worry lingered in her eyes. It was clear she was lost in thought.
“I don’t sleep much; it’s something I’ve always struggled with,” Sequoia replied. “I’m sorry—I didn’t realize you were getting tired. We can stop and rest. I’m not used to having someone with me,” she added apologetically.
“I think we should take a break,” Belle suggested, feeling the weight of fatigue settling into his bones. “How do you manage to stay so strong with so little sleep?” he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.
“Back home, during the late nights when everyone else slept, I’d go into the woods and practice magic. Spending countless hours honing my skills allowed me to surpass all of my peers. In a way, it helped shape me into a guardian,” Sequoia shared. Belle gazed at her in awe; she embodied the strength and resilience he aspired to achieve.
They found a suitable spot to rest and began setting up camp. Belle hammered the tent stakes into the frozen ground with a stone, each strike echoing in the stillness as snow crunched beneath his feet. After a half an hour, their camp was fully set up.
“I’m starving. Let’s eat—I’ll cook!” Belle exclaimed with renewed enthusiasm.
“Yes, please,” Sequoia responded, clutching her rumbling stomach. A soft chuckle escaped Belle, and a faint blush warmed her cheeks.
“I used to sell homemade meals at the market with my family, so you’re in for a treat,” he said, pulling out ingredients they had gathered during their long walk.
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“I can’t wait, Chef Belle!” she replied with a laugh.
An hour passed, and they sat down to savor the meal. Looking up, Belle watched Sequoia as she quietly but swiftly devoured her food. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Thish ish sho good!” she exclaimed, her mouth still full.
“I’m glad. Knowing that people enjoy my cooking makes me feel like my family’s legacy lives on through the flavors I create. I hope to open a restaurant in their honor someday,” Belle shared, the weight of his loss still heavy in his heart.
“It’s truly empowering to have a goal,” Sequoia said softly, scraping up the last bites of her meal. As they finished eating, their conversation turned to their personal histories. “I was raised by my brother,” Sequoia revealed after a few moments. “He was taken by a dragon when I was just eleven. I’ve been on my own ever since,” she said, her expression somber.
“I’m sorry,” Belle offered sincerely. Her sadness was palpable—not just in her face but in her eyes. It was clear she had endured profound hardships that had left deep scars.
“You’re not alone anymore; you have me,” he said gently, offering a reassuring smile.
“I guess so,” she replied, tears welling up in her eyes.
As their conversation drew to a close, Sequoia’s long brown hair caught the breeze, her bangs dancing across her forehead. With the same worried expression Belle had noticed earlier, she looked at him and asked, “How did you survive?” A sense of unease washed over him.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I was with my family, and even though they… they didn’t make it, I somehow emerged unharmed. I don’t understand why.” The thought had been nagging at him since he awoke, and he couldn’t shake the feeling it was connected to the bell spirit calling him the “chosen one.”
“Well, I’m relieved you made it out safely,” she said earnestly. A wave of relief washed over Belle, though he couldn’t quite explain why. He decided to keep the ring and his experience with the bell spirit to himself—for now.
As darkness enveloped the sky, they prepared to settle in for the night. Opening the tent, they crawled inside and lay down side by side. It was unusual for Belle to be in such close proximity to someone else, but his weariness overpowered any awkwardness. “I’m glad I met you, Belle,” Sequoia murmured, punctuating her words with a yawn.
“I’m glad I met you too,” he replied. Staring up at the tent’s ceiling, he hoped sleep would soon claim him. Sequoia was already asleep, her faint snores filling the small space—a sound he found oddly comforting. As the rhythm of her breathing lulled him, his eyes grew heavy, and he finally drifted off.
When he awoke, Belle found himself back in the same grassy version of his town he had seen when he first donned the ring. “Am I still asleep? Why am I back here?” he wondered aloud, puzzled by the mysterious connection between the ring and this dreamlike place.