They meandered a little and took their time until the streets thinned out in the presence of a setting sun. They were the only ones at the beach, watching the sun slowly touch the horizon, inviting a twilight of fiery gold. The dark, vast sea glimmered with orange like fields of fire set ablaze by the light, but the lights still danced at the bottom of the green water of shallow waves. The waves flowed onto the shore, as if inviting her, but Hildebrand stopped where the waves did, just out of touch. When they ebbed, she didn’t follow. She had learned those inviting waters could be deceptively cold. If she were a braver soul, she’d have tested the waters herself.

“I didn’t know you were so close with the old man,” Hildebrand said. “Hey, are you secretly his son or something? That old coot,” muttered Hildebrand. “I’m sure he got around back in the day.”

“Hahahaha!” Hugo waved his hands wildly in denial. “No, no, no. That’s crazy!”

“So, he’s not your dad?” Hildebrand asked.

“No,” Hugo said.

“…” Hilde awkwardly pulled on her hair. “Who are your parents anyway?”

He lingered on the question before answering, “Who knows? I’m just a commoner.”

“Oh,” she muttered, unsure of the meaning of his vague words. She had heard similarly dismissive words from foot soldiers whose families had no names, she didn’t expect to hear them from the Hero. She hated the way he kept just as many secrets as she did, and she didn’t want to dig deeper for truths that didn’t come easy. “I always thought you were a noble.”

“Really?” His eyes looked at the sky in contemplation. “I guess I never told you. I was a special admission into Helmsgrave,” he said. It was a not so clever way of saying a commoner. “I got a recommendation from a knight from Hess.”

“Wow! That’s impressive,” Hildebrand said. The truth was, she had no idea what exactly that entailed. “He sure knows how to pick em,” she said. “Who is he?”

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“Knight Commander Deckerd. He was… a friend.”

“Oh,” Hildebrand said. She didn’t recognize the name.

“Did I kill him?” Hildebrand asked.

Hugo stared at her. “No,” he said. “He died fighting monsters. I couldn’t save him.”

“Oh, ok. Why don’t we go see him!”

“We were more like war buddies,” Hugo said.

“Is that a no?” Hildebrand asked.

Hugo ran his hand through his hair and rustled it. “Yeah. It would be strange if I showed up at his doorstep. Probably.”

“Say no more,” said Hildebrand. “We’re going to go see Anya and Sasha next anyway.”

“Sasha though, you killed her.”

“Hey, are you seriously trying to guilt trip me right now,” Hildebrand said. “She’s alive right now!”

“Just making sure you don’t forget,” he said.

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Hildebrand. She looked to the setting sun. “So, you don’t have to remind me.”

She cleared her throat and asked, “Do you remember when we came here?”

“Hmm? With you?”

“Guess not,” Hildebrand mumbled. She jabbed his side. “Hey, go check if the water is warm.”

Hugo stood up and walked out to the water, rolling his pants up. With the fiery golden star behind him, Hugo’s wild auburn hair glowed like a flame wavering in the breeze.

It reminded Hildebrand of the first time they actually met, when he put her doubts to rest, when he stood before the burning sea and the burning bodies of monstrosities.

He probably doesn’t remember, she thought. After all, Hildebrand wasn’t part of his party. She was just an observer.

He stood just like he did now, his hair ablaze, his head crowned by the descending sun, shining the light of life onto him like the divine protection of the gods—a champion basking in burning starlight. Hildebrand recalled it vividly, the way Hugo turned to her as he did now. Hugo stared back at Hildebrand with shimmering sea-green eyes, like dancing emeralds.

The Hero didn’t have golden hair. And he didn’t have golden eyes. And he was more clever than foolish or brave.

Hugo walked back to Hildebrand; his eyes hidden again by his long, overgrown hair. She hated that long hair.

“Should I cut your hair?” she asked.

“No way,” he said.

“The last time it got this long,” she said, “I had to cut it because you kept fussing with it in your sleep.”

“Nonsense,” Hugo said, fussing with his hair.

“You almost died,” Hildebrand said. “You kept reopening wounds. I had no choice.”

“Utter nonsense,” Hugo said with a smile.

“You have a terrible memory,” Hildebrand said.