16.

“Virindia, is it enough?” asked Aurora, showing him a basket full of berries.

“It’s more than enough, thank you,” he replied, flashing her a smile she happily mirrored before sitting beside him and resting her head on his shoulder, enjoying the sound of flowing water and the calm of their quiet company.

The fish seemed to have gotten more clever lately, so he didn’t finish fishing until sunset. Still, Virindia was in no rush—both of them had been living a peaceful life for quite some time.

“I’m hungry,” the girl murmured, getting up from the ground.

“We’ve got enough food. Let’s go back home.”

They packed their things, most of which were Virindia’s own inventions—tools he had perfected to avoid stepping into the stream during winter, though they’d turned out so well he used them year-round, regardless of the season.

“I’m still amazed at how you manage to make these things,” Aurora remarked while inspecting the gear Virindia carried.

“It’s nothing, really. I just try to make the things I have to do easier. You’re the one who does incredible things,” he replied, nodding toward the clothes they were wearing.

“I’m supposed to hold the knowledge of destiny. If I didn’t know how to make fabric or clothing, it’d be ridiculous,” she laughed, walking ahead.

“I’m supposed to guide the future—if I starved to death, it’d be pretty pathetic,” he joked, but she suddenly turned and walked straight up to him.

“You know, Virindia Homiterra, it would be a lot easier with just a simple ‘thank you,’” she said with a teasing smile, almost amused by the knot forming in his throat.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, brushing past her to keep walking. “But you’re incredible too.”

He only heard her laughter before stopping in his tracks.

“Did you hear that?” he asked the girl.

“Hear what?”

Another crack of branches echoed, but as Virindia looked around, he saw absolutely no one.

“Virindia…”