The wagon rattled along the road as the city of Valarian grew larger in the distance, its towering spires and colossal Leviathan ribs arching high above, casting long shadows across the landscape. Paola found herself staring up again, the awe she had felt earlier still lingering as they drew closer to the city’s massive outer wall. Airships floated lazily through the sky, gliding between the ribs like birds weaving through a forest canopy. The whole city shimmered with a surreal blend of magic and ancient wonder, as if it had been carved from a myth.
As they approached the gates, the guards recognized Ayla immediately. One of them, a stout man with a neatly trimmed beard, waved them over, a wide grin spreading across his face.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Ayla of Valarian! Been a while since we’ve seen you around these parts,” he called out, his voice carrying over the sound of the wagon’s wheels.
Ayla, who had been unusually quiet during the journey, gave a nod and a small smile in return. “It’s been too long, Rurik. Busy with Lady Marcelline, as usual.”
Rurik laughed heartily, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he leaned in closer to the wagon. “You always were her favorite. Surprised she let you out of her sight long enough to pass through here.”
Ayla smirked, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She always has a way of keeping me busy.”
Paola watched the exchange, noting the familiar ease with which Ayla spoke to the guards. It was clear that she had a long history here, and Valarian was as much her home as it was anyone else’s. But despite the brief banter, there was something off in Ayla’s demeanor—a subtle tension in the way she held herself, in the tightness of her smile.
As they were waved through the gates, the wagon rolled into the heart of Valarian, and the city immediately came alive around them. The streets were bustling with activity—merchants shouting their wares from brightly colored stalls, children darting between the crowds, and airships docking at the towering spires, their crews unloading crates of goods from distant lands. The scent of spices, incense, and baked goods filled the air, mixing with the ever-present dust from the desert sands beyond.
The city was as vibrant as Paola remembered, the layers of Valarian stretching out in every direction. Above, the verdant gardens of the upper tiers were lush and green, kept alive by the magic that flowed through the city. Below, the merchant wards bustled with life, their streets narrower and more chaotic. The Leviathan’s ribs loomed over everything, casting their strange, magical glow on the buildings below, making the city feel like it existed both in the present and in some long-forgotten era of myth.
But even as they rolled through the city’s winding streets, Paola could sense that this journey was coming to an end, at least for Ayla. There was an unspoken understanding that lingered between them—Ayla had to return to Lady Marcelline. Paola had known this moment would come, but that didn’t make it any easier.
As the wagon slowed near a quieter part of the city, Ayla turned to Paola, her expression serious. “I need to go,” she said, her voice low and filled with a quiet resolve. She glanced over at the others in the wagon—Poca, Yasmin, Selene, Carter, and Oso, all caught up in their own conversations—and then back to Paola. “Let’s step away for a moment.”
Paola’s heart clenched, but she nodded, following Ayla as they hopped out of the wagon and stepped aside into a small, shaded alleyway, away from the noise of the street.
Ayla turned to face her, her red and blue eyes locking onto Paola’s golden-flecked gaze. She reached into a small pouch at her side and pulled out a small piece of parchment. “I got the location of Poca’s farm from her earlier,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ll come find you there. After I talk to Lady Marcelline.”
Paola felt a wave of emotion wash over her as she looked at Ayla, standing there in her armor, the weight of her responsibilities hanging between them. She knew Ayla had to go—there was no other choice—but that didn’t make it any less painful.
“Don’t take too long,” Paola said quietly, her voice catching in her throat.
Ayla smiled, but it was a strained smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I won’t,” she promised, though Paola could feel the uncertainty behind her words. Something felt off—Ayla wasn’t saying everything, but Paola couldn’t push her right now.
Without another word, Paola stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Ayla, pulling her tight despite the cold, hard edges of her armor. She pressed her cheek against Ayla’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath the metal. It felt both strong and fragile at the same time.
Ayla’s arms came up around Paola, holding her close, and for a long moment, they stood there in the alleyway, the noise of the city fading into the background. Paola could feel the warmth of Ayla’s breath against her hair, the weight of her presence grounding her in the moment.
Finally, Paola pulled back just enough to look up at Ayla, her eyes searching hers. Without a word, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Ayla’s in a deep, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with everything she couldn’t say—the worry, the love, the fear of what might come next.
When they finally broke apart, Ayla’s eyes softened, and for a moment, Paola saw the vulnerability in her that Ayla so rarely let anyone see.
“I’ll see you soon,” Ayla whispered.
Paola nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She gave Ayla one last look before turning and walking back to the wagon, her heart heavy but resolute.
As she climbed back into the wagon, Carter, Poca, Yasmin, Selene, and Oso were already settled in, ready to continue. Oso cocked his head to the side, his large, inquisitive eyes following Paola as she took her seat. His tongue lolled out slightly, and he nudged her with his nose as if sensing her unease.
Paola smiled softly, giving Oso a gentle pat before looking out at Ayla one last time. Ayla stood in the middle of the road, her posture stoic, her eyes watching the wagon as it began to roll away. The expression on her face was unreadable, but something about it tugged at Paola’s heart. There was an odd feeling lingering in the pit of her stomach—something that felt... off.
This was the first time in Udanara that Paola had separated from Ayla by choice, and while she was with Poca—someone she loved deeply—the absence of Ayla left a hollow feeling in her chest. She glanced back at the receding figure of Ayla, her heart aching slightly as they moved farther away. Something about the whole situation left a nagging unease in the back of her mind, though she couldn’t quite place it.
Paola’s thoughts wandered as they made their way through the bustling streets of Valarian. She thought briefly about visiting the Grove of Echos to check on her progress—she had leveled up a couple of times recently, but Ayla had warned her that things would slow down eventually, and they had. Paola was only level 30 now, and she knew she’d need to visit the grove to allocate her skill points, but... it could wait.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the animated conversation happening beside her. Yasmin, ever full of energy, was speaking in rapid-fire sentences, gesturing wildly as she talked to Selene, who sat calmly beside her.
“You’ve got to come see this festival next week, Selene!” Yasmin was saying, her voice filled with excitement. “It’s amazing—huge magical displays, parties everywhere, and the food! Oh, the food is so good—you can’t miss it!”
Selene gave a small, amused smile, but it was clear she wasn’t as enthusiastic as Yasmin. “I’m... sure it’s something to see,” she replied dryly, though her tone was polite.
Yasmin, undeterred by Selene’s lack of enthusiasm, continued her one-sided conversation, asking and answering her own questions. “So, what are you most looking forward to? The food? The magic? Oh, or maybe you’re one of those people who likes to sit in the corner and watch everything, hmm?”
Selene raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, clearly not eager to engage in Yasmin’s barrage of questions. Still, Yasmin didn’t seem to mind, filling the silence with her own answers as they made their way through the city.
Paola, finally snapping out of her thoughts, glanced over at the lively conversation and smiled faintly. No matter how strange and chaotic things got, she knew one thing for certain—this group, these people, were her family now. And even though Ayla was heading off to face her own challenges, Paola knew they would find their way back to each other.
As the wagon rolled along, heading toward the outskirts of Valarian, Paola let herself relax into the moment, content to listen to the hum of the city and the chatter of her companions as they made their way toward whatever awaited them next.
Paola chuckled softly, leaning back in the wagon as she tuned out the animated conversation between Yasmin and Selene. Oso, her ever-chaotic and lovable companion, had decided to take the more peaceful approach today. The little bear—well, not so little anymore—let out a heavy huff before flopping his head into Paola’s lap, his massive body stretched out beside her. His deep, rhythmic breathing told Paola that he was already fast asleep, which was a blessing considering his usual penchant for getting into trouble when he was awake.
She ran her fingers absently through the thick, sandy fur along his neck, feeling the soft black and purple tips that stood out against the otherwise neutral color. The familiarity of Oso’s presence, combined with the warmth of the rising sun on her skin, created a sense of calm that Paola hadn’t realized she needed. It was the simple things—this quiet moment, the gentle sway of the wagon, the distant hum of conversation—that made everything feel grounded, despite the chaos that seemed to follow her every step in this world.
Poca had stopped briefly to pick up some supplies from the market, explaining earlier that she needed to stock up for the farm. Paola had been curious about the workings of Poca’s farm, especially after Poca mentioned a special root that had preserved the land in her absence. According to Poca, it was called a landlock root, a gift from Abraham’s grandfather, and it acted as a powerful ward that kept the land in stasis until it was uprooted. Paola had marveled at the thought of such magic, something that could keep a farm thriving without its caretaker.
As Poca had explained, the root was the reason she had been able to bring Abraham to Windmere and still return to her land without losing any of her crops or her garden. It was a fascinating concept, and Paola found herself even more intrigued by the idea of seeing Poca’s farm up close. It was easy to imagine Poca thriving in that quiet, earthy space, her hands deep in the soil as she cultivated life from the land.
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Time drifted by as the hours passed, Yasmin still trying in vain to get to know Selene better. Paola had to stifle a laugh more than once as Yasmin rattled off question after question, each one more curious or outrageous than the last. Selene, however, remained impenetrable—her responses were either a soft "mhmm" or a shrug, and even those came only every so often. Selene’s cool detachment was as strong as ever, but Yasmin didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it only fueled her determination.
"Come on, Selene!" Yasmin teased, nudging her with a playful grin. "You’ve gotta give me something here. You’re like a mysterious book, and I’m trying to read just one page!"
Selene gave a quiet, half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I’m more of a closed book," she murmured, her voice low and quiet. Yasmin, predictably, took that as a challenge, launching into another round of questions about Selene’s favorite types of magic, her past, and everything in between.
Paola, meanwhile, allowed herself to drift away from the chatter. She focused on the view outside the wagon as they made their way back out of the city, the grand skyline of Valarian slowly fading into the distance behind them. The towering spires and gleaming airships became mere silhouettes against the morning sun, and the Leviathan’s ribs arched high above, still visible even as the city grew smaller. Paola turned her gaze forward, her tail flicking lazily as she stared up at the sky, letting the peacefulness of the moment wash over her.
The landscape shifted as they ventured further out from Valarian, transitioning from the bustling streets and noise of the city to the tranquil countryside. The road was sandy and uneven, a mix of dirt and gravel that stretched ahead of them, winding through fields of grass that shimmered in the golden light of the sun. The grass here was unlike anything Paola had seen before—vibrant green, but with a golden hue at the tips, as if the very earth had absorbed the magic of the Leviathan’s breath and transformed the land into something extraordinary.
The rolling hills stretched out before them, the grass swaying gently in the breeze like waves on a golden-green sea. In the distance, rocky mountains rose sharply against the horizon, their jagged peaks casting long shadows across the landscape. Small clusters of trees dotted the hills, their leaves rustling softly in the wind. Patches of wildflowers grew in bursts of color—reds, blues, and purples—sprinkled throughout the fields, adding a touch of vibrancy to the otherwise muted tones of the grass and sand.
Paola’s eyes wandered over the scene, taking in the peaceful beauty of it all. There was something calming about the contrast between the vast openness of the plains and the distant, looming mountains. It felt like a place where time moved slower, where the chaos of the world could be set aside, even if only for a little while.
She glanced up at the sky, her tail flicking once more. The sun was still rising, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. It was warm, but not oppressive, and the light filtered through the thin clouds above, creating a halo of light that made the landscape shimmer.
The wagon creaked as it rolled over a particularly rough patch of road, jolting Paola from her thoughts. She smiled softly, her hand still resting on Oso’s fur, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept. She had grown used to moments like this—small pockets of peace amid the unpredictability of Udanara. And though her mind often raced with the challenges ahead, right now, she was content to let it all slip away, if only for a moment.
The hours continued to pass, and the conversation between Yasmin and Selene remained mostly one-sided. Yasmin’s voice filled the air, her words a constant stream of energy and enthusiasm, while Selene offered only the occasional nod or vague response. Paola couldn’t help but chuckle to herself—Selene was as closed-off as ever, but Yasmin’s determination to break through that wall was almost admirable.
As they journeyed further, Poca hummed a light tune from the front of the wagon, her hands deftly guiding the oxen down the winding road. Every so often, she glanced back to check on the group, her smile warm and full of life. Paola found comfort in her presence—it was as if Poca carried a piece of home with her wherever she went, a quiet steadiness that made everything feel just a little bit easier.
They traveled deeper into the countryside, leaving behind the last remnants of Valarian’s influence. The rolling hills continued, stretching out endlessly, with the occasional farmhouse or small village dotting the landscape in the distance. The road became narrower, less traveled, and the wildflowers grew in larger patches now, creating vibrant bursts of color that stood out against the green and gold of the grass.
Paola closed her eyes for a moment, letting the soft breeze wash over her, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was a rare moment of serenity, and she cherished it, knowing that it wouldn’t last forever. Soon enough, they would arrive at Poca’s farm, and with that would come a new set of challenges—figuring out what Ayla was planning with Lady Marcelline, dealing with the ever-present threat of Valarian’s political intrigue, and, of course, Yasmin’s relentless energy.
But for now, she allowed herself to just be here, in this place, with the people she cared about.
When Paola opened her eyes again, the landscape had shifted, but they weren’t anywhere near Poca’s farm yet. The road stretched ahead of them, winding through rolling hills that glowed in the late afternoon sun. The grassy fields that surrounded them were still vibrant, but the land had become more untamed, with clusters of wildflowers and shrubs dotting the golden-green expanse. In the distance, rocky mountains loomed under the vast sky, creating a breathtaking view, but Poca’s farm was still at least a day and a half away.
Poca, ever the cheerful one, had explained earlier that it usually took her about three days to make the round trip from her farm to Valarian and back. That left them with at least another night on the road before they’d reach their destination. Paola settled back in the wagon, her fingers idly stroking Oso’s thick fur as he dozed beside her. His massive head rested on her lap, his body sprawled out across the floor of the cart in a mess of fur and peaceful snores.
Poca and Yasmin were the most outgoing of the group, keeping the mood light with their banter, though there was still a lingering tension between Poca and Selene. Paola could sense it—the way Poca would occasionally glance in Selene’s direction, her eyes narrowing just slightly before softening again, as if reminding herself not to be too harsh. Selene, ever the brooding type, remained mostly quiet, only speaking when Poca or Paola addressed her directly. She kept to herself, her arms crossed and her gaze distant, though Paola noticed that Selene’s eyes often flickered toward her, as if waiting for some signal to join in.
Carter, of course, was his usual silent self. The wooden puppet sat at the front of the cart, his hollow eyes staring straight ahead, his fixed grin as unsettling as ever. But even that unnerving smile had grown familiar, a strange comfort in its consistency. Paola had to admit that despite his eerie appearance, Carter had become an odd, yet loyal, companion.
As the sun began to sink lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the group decided to stop for a break. They pulled the wagon to the side of the road, finding a small clearing nestled between the hills, surrounded by patches of trees and tall, golden grass. Poca jumped down from the wagon first, stretching her arms wide and breathing in the fresh air.
“We’ll stop ‘ere for a bit,” she said, glancing around at the others. “Get some rest before it gets too dark.”
Yasmin hopped down next, her fiery hair catching the light of the setting sun. “Sounds good to me,” she said, flashing a grin. “Maybe we can start a little fire, cook something up?”
Selene merely shrugged in response, stepping down from the wagon with a grace that belied her usual brooding demeanor. She moved silently, as always, her dark robes fluttering in the evening breeze.
Paola, feeling restless, decided to take a moment to herself. She stood and walked a little ways from the group, finding a small, quiet spot among the trees where she could practice her magic. The truth was, she needed a distraction. Thoughts of Ayla—and the uncertainty surrounding Lady Marcelline—had been gnawing at her since they left Valarian. She needed to focus on something else, anything else, and magic seemed like the best way to do that.
Closing her eyes, Paola focused on her breathing, trying to center herself as she called upon the Void energy within her. She had been trying to master her chaos affinity for some time now, but it was unpredictable at best. Most of the time, she could barely manage to summon anything more than a flicker of energy. Still, she was determined. She wanted to be able to control it, to harness it in a way that didn’t feel so... wild.
As she concentrated, she heard footsteps approaching from behind. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was Yasmin. The magist had a distinct energy about her, a kind of crackling presence that Paola could feel whenever she was near.
“You practicing magic?” Yasmin asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity.
Paola sighed, opening her eyes and turning to face Yasmin. “Yeah. Trying to, at least.”
Yasmin’s amber eyes gleamed with interest as she stepped closer. “I could tell. You’ve got a bit of an energy leak going on—it’s subtle, but I can feel it.” She tilted her head, studying Paola for a moment. “How’s that chaos affinity treating you?”
Paola huffed, crossing her arms. “Not well. I haven’t been able to control it. I mean, I’ve summoned a flame once before—just once—but after that... nothing. It’s like I don’t even know where to start.”
Yasmin nodded thoughtfully, rubbing her chin as she considered Paola’s words. “Chaos magic is tricky. It’s not like the other elemental affinities where you can just follow a set of rules. It’s... well, chaotic.” She smirked. “But I think I can give you some tips.”
Paola raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You can?”
Yasmin chuckled, her usual playful energy returning. “Paola, I’m an Obsidian Tier magist. I know a thing or two about magic. Especially chaotic magic.” She stepped closer, her tone becoming more serious. “The thing with chaos magic is that it’s not about control in the traditional sense. You can’t force it to bend to your will like fire or water. You have to guide it, like coaxing a wild animal. You let it flow through you, but you don’t fight it. You give it direction, not commands.”
Paola frowned, trying to wrap her head around the concept. “But how do I do that?”
Yasmin smiled, gesturing for Paola to try again. “Start small. Don’t think about summoning a flame or shaping anything specific. Just focus on the energy inside you. Feel it. Let it flow, but don’t try to control it. Just guide it.”
Paola nodded slowly, turning her attention inward once more. She closed her eyes and focused on the Void energy that swirled within her. She could feel it, that dark, chaotic force, pulsing just beneath the surface. It was wild, untamed—like trying to hold onto a storm. But instead of trying to force it into shape, Paola did as Yasmin suggested. She let it flow, feeling its movement, its pull. She tried to guide it, to nudge it gently, like steering a boat through rough waters.
For a moment, she felt a flicker of something—something dark and powerful. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, slipping through her grasp like water through her fingers.
Paola opened her eyes, her frustration evident. “Nothing. Not even a spark.”
Yasmin frowned, but there was no judgment in her expression—only curiosity. “Hmm. It’s there, I can feel it. But it’s tricky. You’re leaking energy, but it’s not focused enough.” She tapped her chin, deep in thought. “Keep practicing. It’ll come. Chaos magic takes time to really understand. It’s... unpredictable.”
Paola sighed but nodded, grateful for Yasmin’s help, even if it hadn’t led to any immediate success. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “I’ll keep at it.”
Yasmin grinned, patting her on the shoulder. “Of course. And hey, once you figure it out, you’re going to be a force to be reckoned with. Trust me.”
With that, they headed back to the wagon, the sky growing darker as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air had grown cooler, and the stars began to twinkle overhead, casting a soft light over the landscape.
They traveled through the night, the rhythmic sound of the wagon’s wheels rolling over the dirt road filling the quiet. Poca hummed a soft tune as she guided the oxen, and Yasmin—ever the conversationalist—chatted away with Carter, though the puppet remained as silent as ever. Selene sat quietly in the back, her eyes fixed on the horizon, though Paola noticed she glanced toward Poca more than once, as if considering something unsaid.
The journey was long, but the peacefulness of the night made it bearable. They made camp briefly, stopping to rest the oxen and eat, before continuing their trek.
By the time the next afternoon rolled around, they were nearing the outskirts of Poca’s farm. Paola could see the familiar landmarks—small clusters of trees, the rocky hills that surrounded the property, and the green and golden fields that stretched out before them. It was a beautiful sight, and as they approached, Paola felt a sense of calm wash over her. Poca's descriptions were exactly as she explained.
This was a place of peace, of quiet, and of growth. And after everything that had happened, Paola was ready for a little peace. But as always, there was a lingering sense of uncertainty in the back of her mind. Ayla’s absence weighed heavily on her, and though she trusted her girlfriends, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing—something that would soon come to the surface.
But for now, she allowed herself to breathe, to focus on the present, and to be grateful for the people who surrounded her. They had made it to Poca’s farm, and whatever challenges lay ahead, Paola knew they would face them together.