Paola’s knees dug into the warm earth beneath her as she knelt, sweat trickling down her bare skin in the midday sun. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes, and tilted her head back, feeling the soft breeze cool her damp body. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, swaying in time with the rhythm of the wind. The task at hand felt endless—digging and planting, a hundred more holes to fill—but there was something oddly satisfying about it. This was the first time since arriving in Udanara that she felt grounded in something other than combat.
She dropped the spade into the freshly dug hole and sat back on her heels. The sun kissed her shoulders, and her ponytail caught the breeze, the sensation a small comfort amid the exhaustion settling into her muscles.
Just as she was enjoying the rare moment of peace, a voice broke through the quiet.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Yasmin called from across the field, her tone teasing but carrying that familiar edge of explosive energy.
Paola cracked open one golden-flecked eye and grinned, knowing Yasmin had been working hard to overlook her nakedness but failing miserably. Paola could feel her friend’s gaze wandering more than once over her petite frame, trying—and failing—not to stare too obviously.
“You could help, you know,” Paola shot back playfully, still not moving from her relaxed position. “Or is staring all you’re good for today?”
Yasmin’s amber eyes widened in mock indignation, though Paola didn’t miss the flush of red that crept up her neck. Yasmin’s hands were on her hips, and her posture, as usual, was a little too stiff. "I'm not staring,” Yasmin huffed, crossing her arms. "Just... making sure you're not about to pass out from all that effort."
Paola chuckled, standing up slowly and brushing the dirt off her hands. She stretched, enjoying how Yasmin quickly turned her eyes to the sky as if the weather was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “Right,” Paola said with a knowing smile, flicking her tail to dust off the dirt from her skin. “Just making sure I’m not about to keel over.”
Yasmin muttered something under her breath, turning her attention to the rest of the field where more holes waited to be filled. Her fiery attitude had returned, and despite her attempts to seem nonchalant, Paola could sense Yasmin's lingering glances. But Yasmin, to her credit, was trying—emphasis on trying.
Paola let out a sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re going to have to get used to it at some point,” she said, tilting her head toward Yasmin. “I’m not exactly shy.”
Yasmin shot her a quick, embarrassed look. “I’m fine! It’s just... you know, unexpected,” she mumbled, clearly flustered. "And maybe a little distracting."
Paola raised an eyebrow and gave her a playful smirk. “Distracting, huh? Well, if you’re that distracted, I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know you’ve just volunteered to help me plant the rest of these healing roots.”
Yasmin blinked, then groaned dramatically. “You can’t be serious.”
Paola crossed her arms and stared her down. “I am. We have until sundown to finish planting these, or they won’t take root properly. It’s tirien root,” Paola said, pointing at the small pile of seeds beside her. “If we don’t get them in the ground before dark, they won’t have time to absorb the moonlight and heal properly.”
Yasmin looked around, as if hoping for some divine intervention or a sudden rescue from Poca or Selene, but none came. “Fine,” she grumbled, kneeling beside Paola with exaggerated reluctance. “But I’m warning you, I’ve never gardened before.”
Paola chuckled, picking up the spade and handing it to Yasmin. “I’m not asking you to be an expert. Just dig and follow my lead. You might even enjoy it.”
Yasmin scoffed, her wings twitching slightly as she took the spade from Paola’s hand. “Enjoy it? I doubt it. I’m a magist, Paola, not a gardener.” Her voice was playfully angry.
“Then think of it as alchemy without the fancy potions,” Paola said, grabbing another spade for herself and kneeling down beside her. “Plants have magic too, you know. And this root will help Poca with her healing remedies.”
Yasmin hesitated for a moment, her amber eyes flickering between the seeds and Paola. She was clearly trying to be nonchalant, but the way her gaze lingered on Paola’s petite, sweat-slicked form gave her away. She dug the spade into the dirt, trying to focus. “Alchemy without potions, huh? Fine. But I’m not making any promises about my skills.”
Paola smiled, sensing Yasmin's discomfort but appreciating the effort. She nudged her shoulder with her own, lightening the mood. “You’ll do great. Here, let me show you.”
Kneeling closer, Paola demonstrated the rhythm of digging and planting. She moved with ease, her hands working quickly, the dirt cool and rich beneath her fingers. Yasmin watched, a mixture of curiosity and nervous energy settling in her posture.
“It’s not as hard as it looks,” Paola said, her voice soft and encouraging. “Just dig a small hole, place the seed in, and cover it up gently. These tirien roots are sensitive, so you don’t want to bury them too deep.”
Yasmin followed her movements, mimicking Paola’s technique but with less finesse. Her brow furrowed as she dug, her wings fluttering occasionally in agitation. “Like this?” she asked, glancing at Paola for approval.
Paola leaned over, her skin brushing against Yasmin’s arm as she corrected her grip on the spade. “Almost. Try holding it like this. It’ll give you more control.”
Yasmin stiffened at the contact, her face turning an even deeper shade of red, but she quickly adjusted her hold. “Got it,” she muttered, trying to focus on the task and not the way Paola’s presence made her pulse quicken.
For a while, they worked in relative silence, the only sound being the rhythmic thud of the spades hitting the earth. Every now and then, Paola would offer a tip or adjust Yasmin’s technique, but for the most part, they settled into a comfortable rhythm.
Paola glanced at Yasmin as she planted another seed, noticing how the magist’s usual fiery demeanor had softened in the quiet of the task. Her wings, once tense, had relaxed, and her amber eyes were focused on the work at hand. There was something endearing about seeing Yasmin so out of her element, yet determined to help.
“You know,” Paola said after a while, breaking the silence, “you’re not half bad at this. Maybe you missed your calling as a gardener.”
Yasmin scoffed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Please. Just because I managed to dig a few holes doesn’t mean I’m cut out for this.”
Paola chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Well, you’re doing better than I did when I first started. Took me a while to get the hang of it.”
Yasmin’s smile widened slightly, her usual bravado creeping back into her voice. “Well, I am a quick learner.”
Paola grinned, nudging her playfully. “That you are.”
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, they worked side by side, the distance between them shrinking as they focused on finishing the task before sundown. Paola could feel Yasmin’s gaze lingering on her occasionally, but it was softer now, less nervous. There was a quiet understanding between them, a shared connection that had grown over the course of their journey together.
At one point, Paola leaned over to adjust one of the seeds Yasmin had planted, her bare skin brushing against Yasmin’s arm again. This time, Yasmin didn’t flinch or look away. Instead, she glanced at Paola, her amber eyes meeting Paola’s golden-flecked gaze.
For a moment, they stayed like that, close and comfortable, the air between them charged with unspoken words. Yasmin’s wings fluttered slightly, but her gaze held steady, as if she were waiting for something—an acknowledgment, perhaps, or just a moment of understanding.
Paola smiled softly, her voice quiet but teasing. “Still distracted?”
Yasmin blushed but didn’t look away. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, her tone light but honest.
Paola chuckled, brushing the dirt from her hands and sitting back on her heels. “Well, you’ve still managed to get a lot done despite the distractions. I’d say that’s impressive.”
Yasmin laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
They worked in silence for a little longer, the field slowly filling with rows of freshly planted tirien roots. The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the field. Paola wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of dirt across her face.
Yasmin noticed and laughed, her wings fluttering as she pointed. “You’ve got a little something... right here.” She pointed to her own, everywhere.
Paola narrowed her eyes playfully, her ears pulling back in mock annoyance. “Oh, do I now?”
Yasmin nodded, her laughter bubbling up again. “Yeah, and since I’m such a good friend, I’ll help you finish the rest of this so you can clean up. Sound fair?”
Paola smiled and shook her head as they continued digging the holes for the tirien root. There was a lightness between them now, the tension from earlier fading as they settled into the rhythm of work. “You know,” Paola said, her voice playful but already tinged with exhaustion, “I think we have about a hundred more of these to go. Maybe two hundred. I’m starting to lose count.”
Yasmin groaned dramatically, dropping her head back and wiping her brow. “Seriously? We’ve been at this for hours! I didn’t sign up for this level of manual labor, Paola.”
Paola chuckled, her tail swishing lazily behind her as she kneeled over another patch of earth. “Hey, I didn’t sign up for it either, but someone has to do it. These roots won’t plant themselves.”
Yasmin sighed, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Fine, fine. I guess I’m stuck here, breaking my back in the sun. Just don’t tell anyone—I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
They laughed together, and for a moment, it was easy to forget about the looming challenges ahead. The simplicity of the task, the warmth of the sun, and the steady presence of each other made it feel like everything was just a little bit easier.
As they worked, Paola’s thoughts wandered, and she found herself thinking about Yasmin’s sister, Yucca. She hadn’t mentioned much about her before, but it was clear that Yasmin cared deeply for her. Paola glanced over at Yasmin, curiosity getting the better of her. “So... what’s the plan with your sister? I thought you were going to go find her after we got back.”
Yasmin paused in her digging, her amber eyes flicking toward Paola before she straightened up. “Oh, I sent her a message already,” she said with a shrug. “Used a mana homing pigeon.”
“A... what?” Paola asked, raising an eyebrow.
Yasmin grinned, clearly proud of herself. “It’s my own invention. A secure mana-based message system. You use these birds—well, not real birds, they’re more like constructs of mana—and they fly to the receiver’s badge. Each person has a specific badge the bird locates. If someone tries to interfere with the bird or read the message, it self-detonates.”
Paola blinked, trying to wrap her head around that. “Wait, so... the birds explode if someone messes with them?”
Yasmin nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! Explode into a million little bits of mana. It’s a fail-safe. Keeps everything secure.”
Paola couldn’t help but laugh. “That sounds... very you. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” Yasmin said with a mock bow, though there was a hint of genuine pride in her voice. “Yucca’s still on her mission, though. She won’t be done until after the Festival of Breath. We planned on meeting during the festival, so maybe you can come along and meet her then.”
Paola smiled at the idea. “I’d like that. It would be nice to meet her, especially after hearing so much about her.”
Yasmin shrugged, though there was a softness in her expression now. “Yeah, she’s... well, she’s a lot. But she’s also the best, you know? It’ll be good to see her again.”
Paola nodded, her gaze drifting back to the dirt as she started to dig another hole. “So... until then, are you planning on staying here? With Poca and Selene?”
Yasmin picked up another seed and tossed it lightly into the air before catching it again. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Poca later today. I’m not in a rush to go anywhere just yet. Besides, I only sent Yucca the message today, so we’ll see what happens.”
“Sounds good,” Paola said, planting another seed in the hole she had just dug. As she patted the earth down over it, Yasmin’s question caught her off guard.
“How do you know so much about gardening, anyway?” Yasmin asked, glancing over at Paola. “You’ve never been to Poca’s farm before, right?”
Paola paused, her hand still resting on the dirt as a familiar ache stirred in her chest. She hadn’t thought about her father in a long time—not like this, anyway. “My dad,” Paola said quietly, her voice soft as she tried to push past the sudden wave of emotion. “He worked in the fields, orchards... things like that, growing up. He had his own garden, and I used to help him with it before his hands got bad.”
Yasmin was quiet for a moment, her expression softening as she watched Paola. “Your dad sounds like a good man.”
Paola smiled faintly, though the sadness was clear in her eyes. “He was. He made me help him with the garden, even though I hated it at the time. But looking back... I think I actually enjoyed it. I didn’t realize it then, but it was kind of peaceful. A break from everything else.”
There was a long pause as Paola’s mind drifted back to her time on Earth. She could still remember the smell of the fresh soil, the feel of the sun on her back as she worked alongside her father, the way his hands—rough and calloused—had guided hers when she didn’t know what she was doing. And then... the memory of coming home one weekend from school, finding the garden gone, replaced by grass. His hands had gotten worse, and there was nothing left to show for all their work.
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Yasmin, sensing the shift in Paola’s mood, spoke softly. “What happened?”
Paola took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “His hands... they just got worse. He couldn’t keep up with the work anymore. By the time I came back to visit one weekend, the garden was gone. Just... grass. Like it had never been there at all.”
Yasmin didn’t say anything for a moment, but there was a gentle understanding in her eyes. She reached out, resting her hand lightly on Paola’s shoulder, offering comfort without words. “I’m sorry, Paola.”
Paola smiled faintly, blinking back the moisture in her eyes. “It’s okay. It’s just... hard to think about sometimes.”
Yasmin’s usual fiery energy seemed to dim for a moment, replaced by a quiet empathy that Paola hadn’t expected. “You know, it’s funny,” Yasmin said, her voice soft. “I’m usually the loud one, the one who’s too much for people to handle. But in moments like this... I don’t know. I just want to remind you of the good times. Like... think about how much you and your dad must’ve shared in that garden. That’s what matters, right? Not the fact that it’s gone now, but the time you spent together.”
Paola looked at Yasmin, surprised by the gentleness in her voice. Yasmin’s red hair fell over her face as she smiled, her usual sharpness softened into something more tender. It reminded Paola of Poca—how Poca had a way of being both larger than life and deeply empathetic at the same time.
“Yeah,” Paola said quietly, her heart feeling a little lighter. “You’re right. It’s the time we spent that matters.”
Yasmin’s smile grew, and for a moment, the two of them sat in comfortable silence, the sun casting a warm glow over the field. Paola couldn’t help but think about how Yasmin, despite her fiery nature and explosive personality, had this incredible ability to show such gentleness when it mattered. It was a side of her that Paola didn’t see often, but in moments like these, it was undeniable.
“You know,” Paola said with a small grin, breaking the silence, “you’re not so bad at this whole empathy thing.”
Yasmin raised an eyebrow, her playful smirk returning. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
Paola laughed, shaking her head as she picked up her spade again. “Right, of course. Wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re getting soft.”
Yasmin shrugged, her wings fluttering slightly as she planted another seed. “Exactly. Now, let’s finish these last few holes before sundown. I’m starting to feel like a real gardener here.”
Paola smiled, the warmth in her chest spreading as they continued to work side by side. Yasmin’s sincerity had touched her in a way she hadn’t expected, and for the first time in a long while, Paola felt a sense of peace settling over her. Maybe it was the simple act of planting, or maybe it was the quiet understanding between them, but either way, Paola was grateful for this moment.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the field, Paola and Yasmin finished planting the last of the tirien roots. Paola leaned back on her heels, wiping her brow with the back of her hand and smiling at their work.
“We did it,” she said, her voice light with relief. “Before sundown, too.”
Yasmin grinned, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. “Yeah, we make a good team, huh?”
Paola nodded, her heart feeling full as she looked at Yasmin. “Yeah, we do.”
Yasmin’s smile was warm, her amber eyes soft as they met Paola’s. “Thanks for letting me help,” she said quietly, her usual bravado replaced by something more genuine.
Paola smiled back, her tail swishing lazily behind her. “Thanks for sticking around.”
For a moment, they just stood there, the quiet settling over them like a blanket as the last rays of sunlight bathed the field in gold. There was something special about this moment, something that felt like it was just for them—two souls finding comfort in the simplicity of the earth, the shared effort of creation.
***
The river flowed lazily beside them, its surface smooth and reflective under the evening sun. Evan stood at the bank, staring down at the water’s calm surface, his reflection a stark reminder of what he had become. His hood was pulled back, leaving nothing to the imagination. He was just a skull on a spine, wearing a very fancy cloak. The boots and gloves that Yucca had found for him only added to the surreal absurdity of his appearance. He looked less like a warrior of the undead and more like a festive holiday decoration—like the skeleton from his old science class that would get dressed up for holidays. He remembered how it used to wear a poncho and sombrero during the Day of the Dead celebrations. That was it, he thought. All he needed now was a black sombrero, and he'd be some sort of real-life grim reaper.
Malakar, however, wasn’t finding anything amusing. His voice echoed furiously in Evan's mind, a constant barrage of insults and berating that Evan had been trying to drown out for the past few hours.
"Do you ever take anything seriously, you soulless, muck-eating dreg? You’re standing around, gawking at your own reflection like some shallow-faced knave! Do you even understand the gravity of your situation, you empty-skulled miscreant?" Malakar’s voice snarled. "I swear, if I had even a fraction of control, you’d already be on your way to the Abyss of Whispers. Instead, you’re lying here like a gutted zarnith!"
Evan had no idea what a zarnith was, but it sounded bad. He sighed and glanced back at his reflection. “Malakar, you’ve got to give it a rest, man. I get it. I’m not handling things the way you’d like. But, you know, maybe throwing myself headfirst into the abyss of despair isn’t really my style.”
"Style?" Malakar hissed. "What style could you possibly have, you featherless owpik? You're literally a walking pile of bones. There's nothing stylish about you, you wretched excuse for a vessel!"
“Featherless what now?” Evan muttered to himself, shaking his head and pulling his hood back on to block out his reflection. He could feel Malakar seething, his presence like a dark storm cloud hanging over Evan’s thoughts. Malakar had been pushing him to ditch Yucca since the start, to make his own way, but Evan wasn’t sure. The robe could work in his favor, Malakar had said. It made him invisible to most people, even her. She only seemed to see him because she was acutely aware of him, Malakar insisted. Still, something told Evan that Malakar’s advice wasn’t exactly given in good faith. The fallen lord was always scheming.
He walked back over to where Yucca lay in the grass, her wings shimmering faintly in the fading light. She was lying on her back, staring up at the sky, her usual composed expression softened. Evan collapsed into the patch of sandy grass beside her, his bony limbs clattering as he did.
"Nice night," Evan said, trying to sound casual. He glanced over at Yucca, who didn’t respond right away, still gazing upward. She seemed lost in thought, her delicate wings catching the last rays of sunlight as they shimmered like polished glass.
They were near the base of one of the Leviathan’s ribs, the massive bone stretching high above them. Everywhere in the city seemed to be under the shadow of those ribs, a constant reminder of the power and mystery surrounding Valarian. Evan looked up at the colossal structure, feeling small in its presence. He was getting used to feeling small in Udanara. Everything here felt larger than life, like some masterpiece painting and he was merely a star in the sky in the background.
Yucca finally spoke, her voice soft but steady. "The Festival of Breath is in a couple of days," she said. "I’m... nervous. And excited. Yasmin will be there. I need to talk to her."
Evan raised a skeletal eyebrow, though it didn’t show. "Talk to her about what?"
Yucca sighed, her gaze still fixed on the sky. "Everything. I haven’t told her about the specifics of my mission yet. And I’m not sure how she’ll take it."
Evan leaned back, his hands resting behind his head, looking up at the darkening sky. He thought about Yucca and her sister, the bond they seemed to share. Yasmin was a firestorm of energy and chaos, bright and bold, while Yucca was reserved, precise, and elegant. They were opposites in so many ways, yet they complemented each other perfectly. He had assumed Yucca was the uptight, noble snob type when he first met her, but spending time with her, seeing her vulnerability, had made him realize she was much more complicated than he’d thought.
"You’ll figure it out," Evan said, trying to sound reassuring. "You two seem close. I’m sure she’ll understand."
Yucca’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile, but it was fleeting. "I hope so."
Evan looked over at her again, studying her face. She had this hard shell, this icy exterior, but beneath it, she was... kind. She didn’t throw him to the wolves when she could have, didn’t leave him behind when it would have been easier. She had protected him, even though it seemed to go against the nature of this world. Void Borne, Fallen Stars—whatever label they wanted to put on him—were hunted. And yet, she was helping him.
"Why are you helping me?" Evan asked quietly, his voice softer than usual.
Yucca didn’t answer immediately. She seemed to be weighing her response carefully, her eyes flicking to the side to meet his empty gaze. "Because..." she began, but then stopped, as if the words weren’t fully formed yet. "Because you’re different. And... I guess I see something in you. Even if you don’t see it in yourself."
Evan blinked—his favorite newfound habit. "That’s... well, thanks," he said, unsure of how to respond to that. "I don’t exactly feel like I’m worth the trouble most of the time."
"You don’t have to," Yucca said, her voice firm. "Just... trust me, okay?"
Evan nodded, lying back in the grass. He was silent for a moment before speaking again. "It’s weird, you know? I don’t have any abilities or powers or anything like you do. I’m just... me. I can summon some weird sword I don’t even know how to use, but what’s that compared to what you can do?"
Yucca turned her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "You’ll figure it out. You haven’t had much time to adjust yet. It takes time to understand what you’re capable of."
"Yeah, maybe," Evan said with a shrug, though deep down, he wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t exactly brimming with confidence these days.
The two of them lay there in silence for a while, the sounds of the city in the distance blending with the gentle rush of the river beside them. It was peaceful, almost serene, but Evan couldn’t help the nagging thoughts that kept creeping in. He glanced over at Yucca again, her wings now lying still, the shimmer fading in the twilight.
She was something else, he realized. Not the cold, detached figure he had assumed, but someone who cared deeply. About her sister. About her mission. And, for some reason, about him.
"Yucca," Evan began, breaking the silence again, "thanks."
She turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "For what?"
"For not leaving me behind," Evan said simply. "For, you know... giving me a chance. Even when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing."
Yucca’s expression softened, and she turned her gaze back to the sky. "You’ve helped me more than you realize, Evan. Maybe we’re both figuring things out."
Evan smiled—or at least, he thought he did. It didn’t show on his skeletal face, but he felt it. "You know," he said after a moment, "Malakar’s been telling me to ditch you this whole time."
Yucca’s lips twitched into a smile. "And why haven’t you?"
Evan laughed softly. "Because... well, I kinda like having you around."
Yucca’s smile grew a little wider, though she tried to hide it. "I guess that’s a good enough reason."
They fell back into silence, both of them staring up at the sky, the ribs of the Leviathan casting long shadows over the city. Evan didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know how this crazy world worked or what his place in it was. But for the first time since waking up as a skeleton in Udanara, he didn’t feel completely lost. He had a friend. Someone who, for whatever reason, was willing to help him.
Yucca leaned back in the patch of sandy grass, her silver-blonde hair catching the soft light from the river as she cast a glance in Evan’s direction. The air around them had grown quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the soft lapping of water against the riverbank. Evan, feeling the weight of her gaze, stared down at his bony hands, avoiding eye contact—or rather, the lack of it—since, well, he didn’t have eyes. He wasn’t sure why he asked her what he did, but he needed to know.
“What... do you see in me?” he asked quietly, his voice sounding hollow, though his words carried more weight than he intended. He looked away, focusing on a patch of grass beside his foot. “I mean, I’m a skeleton. How are you still so... kind?”
Yucca paused, then let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle that it seemed to ripple through the air. It wasn’t the mocking kind of laugh he feared. It was something else—something that made Evan’s nonexistent stomach flutter. He badly wanted to smile back, to show her that her laugh did something to him, but he could only imagine how that would look. A skull grinning like a lunatic? The thought made him feel empty all over again.
“I’m serious,” Evan continued, his voice barely louder than a murmur. “I mean... when I talk, what does it look like? I don’t have lips, or a tongue, or... anything that makes sense. How are words even happening?”
Yucca’s laugh came again, soft and sweet, and she turned her head to look at him, propping herself up on her elbow. Her wings shimmered faintly, catching the fading light, giving her an ethereal glow that only added to her serene beauty.
“I don’t know how it works,” Yucca admitted, her tone playful but genuine. “It’s weird, I won’t lie. But when you talk... there’s something there. It’s like I can feel the emotion, even though you don’t have lips or eyes to show it. I can hear it in your voice. And those sockets?” She gestured lightly toward his face. “I don’t know how to explain it, but somehow, they convey something. It’s like you’re... not as empty as you think.”
Evan blinked—his new favorite expression—and sighed, his gaze dropping back to the ground. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my eye sockets,” he said with a small, dry chuckle.
Yucca smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at him, and for a moment, it felt like the tension in the air melted away. But then she asked the question that made him stiffen.
“So... Chelsea,” she said, her voice carefully neutral, though there was a curious tilt to it. “What was she like?”
Evan froze, and despite not having lungs, he felt like he was choking. He coughed, an instinct he hadn’t realized he still had, and looked away from Yucca, pretending to focus on the river. For a moment, he considered deflecting, brushing off the question with a joke or some half-hearted excuse. But Yucca had been nothing but kind to him, and somehow, it felt like he could be honest with her.
“Chelsea,” he started, the word heavy on his tongue, “was my girlfriend. For six years. Engaged, technically, but... not really.”
Yucca tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to continue, her curiosity tempered by patience.
“She didn’t believe in me,” Evan said quietly, his hands resting in his lap. “I didn’t see it then, but I see it now. She... she just put up with me, you know? She tolerated my dreams, my goals, but she never really supported them. I wanted to be a guitar player, wanted to make it with my band, and I worked with animals. I loved it, both things. But bills, life... they always got in the way.”
Yucca’s expression softened, her crystal-clear eyes reflecting the moonlight. “And she didn’t understand that?”
Evan shook his head. “No, she didn’t. She said she did, but she didn’t. She’d roll her eyes when I talked about the band, about getting our big break. I think, deep down, she thought I was just wasting my time. Maybe I was.”
Yucca sat up a little, her wings folding neatly behind her as she focused on him, really listening. “It doesn’t sound like you were wasting time. It sounds like you were following something that mattered to you.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Evan muttered, kicking a small pebble by his boot. “But she was always... distant. She never really cared. I thought we were in love. Maybe we were, at first, but after a while, it just felt like she was waiting for something better to come along. And then... well, I found out she was cheating on me.”
Yucca’s eyes widened slightly, and her expression shifted from curiosity to something warmer, more compassionate. “Evan... I’m sorry.”
Evan shrugged, though the motion felt empty. “It is what it is. I mean, she didn’t even try to hide it, really. I was too blind to see it. I was working late one night, came home early, and... yeah. I didn’t even confront her. I just... I just left.”
Yucca looked at him, her brows furrowing slightly in concern. “Did you ever talk to her after that?”
Evan shook his head, his gaze distant. “No. I got in my car, drove off... and then I died.”
The silence between them grew heavier, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was reflective, thoughtful. Yucca was quiet for a moment before she spoke again, her voice softer than before.
“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” she said. “To lose everything, just like that.”
Evan let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, it wasn’t exactly a great way to go out. But you know, it’s funny... I didn’t even really think about it after I woke up here. It’s like, I was so focused on the fact that I was dead, that I didn’t even process what my life had been.”
Yucca nodded, her eyes flickering with understanding. “Sometimes, we don’t realize what’s wrong until we’re forced to look at it from a distance.”
Evan glanced over at her, his skull tilting slightly. “What about you? You’ve helped me a lot, but you’ve been quiet about yourself. What’s your story?”
Yucca smiled faintly, her gaze drifting back to the sky. “My story’s... complicated. My sister, Yasmin, and I... we’ve always been close. She’s wild, chaotic, and sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who can keep her grounded. But being a magist isn’t easy. There’s a lot of pressure, especially when you’re expected to be perfect. Expected to never fail.”
Evan listened, leaning back into the grass. “That’s a lot to carry.”
Yucca nodded. “It is. But I love her. I’d do anything to protect her, even if it means... making difficult choices.”
Evan didn’t press her further. He could tell that there was more beneath the surface, but Yucca wasn’t ready to share that yet. Instead, he offered her a small nod of understanding.
“You’re a good sister,” Evan said softly. “Yasmin’s lucky to have you.”
Yucca smiled, a genuine warmth in her expression this time. “Thank you. And for what it’s worth... I think you’re stronger than you realize, Evan.”
Evan looked at her, feeling a strange sense of connection. He had shared more with Yucca than he had with anyone in a long time, even when he was alive. There was something about her that made it easy to open up, to be honest, without fear of judgment.
“Maybe,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle. “But I’ve still got a long way to go.”
Yucca nodded, her eyes softening. “We all do.”
They sat there in comfortable silence for a while longer, the river flowing gently beside them, the night sky stretching out endlessly above. For the first time since waking up in this strange world, Evan didn’t feel completely lost. He didn’t know what the future held, but he wasn’t facing it alone. And that, at least, was something.