Even once we'd left the cabin, I kept quiet. I just walked behind Amethyst, my thoughts still knotting up about what had occurred just a little while ago at Kael's place. The quiet between us wasn't tense—it was simply. present. Unsaid, but known.
It took a few minutes of silence for us to reach a place I recognized.
"Is this the training ground?" I whispered, my voice only just making it slightly louder. I didn't know why we were here.
Amethyst didn't respond immediately. Then, without glancing at me, she said, "Auren, have you ever fought with somebody? Fist to fist?"
Her tone had changed—harder, angrier, like steel on the wind.
I wasn't expecting that question.
"Well… yes," I said gruffly. "But I was about as effective as a fish on land."
When I said that, I heard the faintest laugh from her—soft, even calming. The kind of laugh that made you forget how deadly she was.
But she wasn't going to reveal her softer side so quickly.
Her eyes jerked in my direction with a sudden, calculating force.
"Come on. Let's settle it once and for all," she said icily.
And then, all at once, she shed the threadbare coat she'd had on for days. It fell to the ground with a gentle thud. My own breathing momentarily caught on.
Beneath, she had on a sleeveless black combat shirt, sewn with thin red thread along the shoulders. Her dark red tactical trousers clung tight and appeared designed for movement, with sufficient concealed pockets to hold more weapons than I cared to imagine. Her boots—black leather, scuffed but sturdy—were action-inspired, not fashion.
Before I was even fully ready, she slipped on fingerless gloves nonchalantly.
"Finished staring?" she asked, relaxing slowly, stretching.
Her voice brought me back to earth.
"W-W-What? No! I wasn't staring! I swear—I wasn't—!"
We faced each other in the center of the practice area. Amethyst was in perfect stance—relaxed, but lethal—her red eyes narrowing like a hawk pinning down prey. I attempted to mimic her stance, but let's be honest—I probably resembled a flustered scarecrow attempting to learn a kung fu class.
The first round took six seconds.
A blur of movement—then I was on my back, gasping and blinking up at the sky.
"Too easy," she grumbled, wiping dirt from her hand with a grin.
Second match? My arms barely rose before she took out my legs. Third? I caught one punch—just one—before she spun and drove me face-first into the ground.
By round six, I was already resigned to never getting my hands on her. But this time, she didn't rush me.
I blinked.
Ground beneath me gave way. Vines burst forth—thorned, alive, and slithering like snakes. They charged out, binding about my legs and holding me fast.
"What the—!?" I cried, trying to struggle.
Amethyst leaned her head to the side with a wicked smile. "Ever curious as to what the 'Velthorn' part of my name signified?"
"You can manipulate thorns?!"
She nodded smugly, as if sharing a secret talent was some sort of honor badge.
"That's cheating!" I complained. "You can't go around using bloodline powers in a spar!
After I scolded her for a long while in a dramatic outburst, we made a new bargain: no powers. If I could get in one solid punch, I'd win. If she took me down to the mat again, she'd win.
"Deal," she replied with a nearly sinister spark.
Then the seventh round arrived.
I breathed heavily. Grounded myself. Be unorthodox, I recalled Kael's words.
I rushed, threw out a pretend wild swing, and stumbled—on purpose.
She closed in, poised to finish me.
I spun low, sidestepped under her blow, and threw my shoulder with all I had.
She sailed across the field.
She landed on the ground.
For a moment, we both stood there.
And then I smiled. "I… I actually did it."
She gazed up at the sky, breathed out, then smiled. "Beginner's luck."
I extended a hand, still grinning.
She accepted it. Her hold was solid—not controlling.
This time, it seemed like respect.
We sat on the edge of the training platform, sweat-glued to our bodies, short bursts of breath. My shoulder ached from that last tackle, but I didn't mind. I continued to sneak glances at Amethyst out of the corner of my eye, curious if she was still miffed that I'd been able to win that last round. Really? I felt incredible. Even having one hit register was a triumph for me.
You know," she finally said, still looking out at the horizon, "most people would be knocked cold if I came at them like that. But your dumbass." didn't blink.
I chuckled quietly. "I think I was too desperate to blink. And hey, don't call me a dumbass, idiot."
She looked at me, and beneath the usual blaze of fire in her eyes, something softer moved.
"Desperation's not always bad. Sometimes it's what keeps us alive. Still, don't go using that as an excuse for being bad at brawling."
There was gravity in her voice—something beneath that I couldn't quite identify. She glanced away once more, brushing sweat from her face. Her red hair stuck to her skin, tangled and damp. And for once, she didn't care about how she looked. No edge. No armor. Just her.
"Yeah, I think you did all right," I said, surprised at how much I wanted her to say it.
Amethyst stood, stretched her arms above her head, and then gazed down at me with a crooked smile.
"You didn't totally embarrass yourself," she said, extending her hand. "And for someone like you, that's more or less high praise."
I took it, and hauled myself upright. "I'll take it. Better than nothing."
As we began walking back toward the village, she slowed abruptly.
"Auren?" She called out.
"Yeah?"
She hesitated to say something, before breaking the silence with a soft but firm voice. "Thanks…"
I blinked, confused by the sudden appreciation . "What for, Crim?"
She almost stumbled over her own foot. "Crim?! That's what you chose out of all the names out there you chose that? Really?!"
I smiled. "You can give me one too if you please."
She froze, looking at me, then at last laid her hand on my shoulder with a small smile.
"Aurie," she said softly firmly. "Thanks..... for not giving up on me back there."
And for the first time since Kael's cabin, I saw it.
A real smile, a smile that I had been waiting to see for a long while.
Although I didn't want to spoil the moment between us, I had to ask. The question had been festering in my chest like a rock.
"What are you going to say to Kael?" I asked, uncertainty lacing every sentence.
She pulled her coat around her again but didn't answer. The silence stretched, heavy and brittle. I nearly wished I hadn't asked—until she finally shattered it.
"I know that I did something I shouldn't be forgiven for," she said softly, and stepped toward the cabin, "but how could I simply disregard it?"
I stood there, phrases spilling in my mind, none of which were appropriate. But something within me acted before my mind had a chance to.
"You know, Crim. we're in this together."
She spun around and I was taken aback. I automatically covered my mouth as if it could yank the words back in. We locked eyes—and hers sparkled. Not with rage, but with grief. And tears.
Without thinking, I moved closer, a soft smile playing at the corners of my mouth. I extended my hand and placed it on her cheek. She didn't jerk back.
Her skin was flushed, her face soft and shattered. I wasn't prepared for it—how gentle she was, under all that toughness. But that wasn't what was important at the moment.
"Listen," I whispered, wiping away the final of her tears. "We're doing this together. You don't have to do it by yourself."
She blinked again, then nodded slowly. A small, genuine smile crept up onto her face.
She stepped back, breathed, and faced the cabin. I fell into step alongside her.
No further words were necessary.
We walked, shoulder to shoulder, into whatever lay ahead.
By the time we arrived at Kael's cabin, the sky had dissolved into a gentle indigo. The air was cooler then, perfumed with pine and the distant haze of smoke. Amethyst moved quietly next to me, her eyes before her but her footsteps no longer burdened. She seemed quieter. Lighter. As if something she'd carried for so long had finally released its hold.
Kael stood on the porch, arms folded, observing us. His face was impassive initially—stone-cold unmovable—but relaxed when our gazes met. He nodded curtly and moved out of our way.
Inside, the cabin was silent. The sort of silence that doesn't crave to be filled. Amethyst removed her coat and hung it carefully on the wall. I did the same, although mine nearly fell off the hook like it had engaged in a battle of its own.
Kael remained seated at the table, gesturing for us to sit down.
"So," he started, his eyes darting between us, "you two finally killed one another out there?
Amethyst laughed dryly. "Almost. But he scored a hit."
Kael arched an eyebrow, giving me a mock-incredulous look. "No kidding. I should retire now."
I grinned, rubbing the back of my neck in a sheepish gesture. "Beginner's miracle."
He grunted, then got serious. "Amethyst, you gonna tell me what's eating at you?"
There was a pause, but then she stood slightly taller and spoke—not as student, not as soldier, but as herself.
"I let my emotions override during our last mission. I came close to crossing a line I shouldn't have. But I didn't flee from it… and I won't apologize."
Kael observed her, his face inscrutable once more. Then he nodded slowly.
"Good. That's what growth is. Taking it on."
She exhaled. I could feel the relief in her posture, even if she didn't show it on her face.
He stood up, placing a hand on each of our shoulders. "You've both come far. But don't forget—fighting demons isn't just about muscle or magic. It's about knowing who you are when you're pushed to the edge."
I looked at Amethyst. She gazed back, and in the look I saw something I hadn't seen before—not merely strength or pride, but trust.
Later that evening, we sat on the porch, the stars shining clear above us. The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable—it was warm, like a well-worn coat.
"You know," I told her, tilting my head up to gaze at the stars, "I think I finally understand why you fight so hard."
She watched me with a raised brow. "Oh yeah? Why?"
"Because you want to defend something you believe in. And now… so do I."
She smiled again—that real, quiet kind of smile—and leaned her shoulder softly into mine.
"Welcome to the fight, Aurie."
And in that instant, with nothing unspoken and no wars on the horizon yet, I felt it.
We were ready.
Not flawless. Not unstoppable.
But together.
And for now… that was enough.