The settlement felt different in the afternoon light. The cavern, once shrouded in the dim glow of morning embers, now pulsed with a quiet kind of life. Sunlight filtered through cracks in the rocky ceiling, casting pale beams onto the settlement below, illuminating the movement of the Valkari as they went about their day.
Char walked along the winding paths, his boots crunching against the uneven stone. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going—just moving, watching, absorbing.
There was a rhythm to the way the Valkari worked. Groups of them hauled large baskets of supplies from one hut to another, their motions practiced and efficient. Some were sharpening long spears made from a material that gleamed with a faint blue sheen—definitely not ordinary iron. Others sat in small circles, mending clothes, carving tools, or weaving intricate patterns into cloth.
It reminded him of Oryn-Vel in some ways. The sense of community, the quiet dedication to survival. But there were differences too.
For one, there was no air of urgency here, no underlying tension like in the bustling cities of Oryn-Vel, where people always seemed to be running toward something—wealth, power, security. The Valkari, though clearly hardened by their struggles, moved with a steady patience. There was no desperation, no frantic energy. Just... life.
Char sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was strange, seeing a way of living so different from what he had known—both in Oryn-Vel and in the world he had come from.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps behind him.
"Char! Char!"
He barely had time to turn before something small and quick barreled into him.
"Oof—"
He staggered back as little arms wrapped around his waist. Looking down, he saw Selka beaming up at him, her bright yellow eyes wide with excitement.
He blinked. "Uh. Hey."
Selka giggled and released him, rocking back on her heels. "You walk funny."
Char raised an eyebrow. "I walk funny?"
She nodded sagely. "Like you don't know where you're going."
He sighed. "That's because I don't know where I'm going."
Selka gasped, as if this was the most tragic thing she had ever heard. "That's terrible! You could get lost forever."
"I don't think I'd get lost forever—"
"I know this place," she declared proudly, puffing out her chest. "I could guide you!"
Char fought the urge to laugh. "Oh? And where would you guide me?"
Selka frowned, clearly deep in thought. "Um... to the food tents! Or—or the cool rock piles! Or to meet the nice goats!"
Char blinked. "Goats?"
Selka nodded rapidly. "Big goats! They have huge horns, and they like it when you scratch their ears." She reached up as high as she could to demonstrate, which was still nowhere near the height of these supposed enormous goats.
Char couldn't help but grin. "That actually sounds pretty interesting."
Selka beamed. "I knew you'd think so! Come on, I'll show you!"
Before he could protest, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him forward with surprising strength for someone so small.
"Whoa—Selka, slow down!"
"No time! The goats don't like waiting!"
Char stumbled after her, shaking his head but unable to stop the smile spreading across his face.
*
Char wasn't sure how he'd let himself get dragged into this, but somehow, Selka had led him high up one of the mountainous hills overlooking the Valkari settlement. The wind was crisper here, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and wild grass, and the view stretched out for miles—rolling valleys and jagged peaks painted in shades of blue and grey.
But what caught Char's attention the most were the goats.
Massive creatures, nearly the size of small horses, with thick white fur that shimmered faintly under the mountain sun. Their curved horns were ridged and sharp, spiraling back over their heads like polished ivory. Despite their size, they moved with surprising grace, hopping nimbly over boulders and rocky ledges.
Selka practically bounced in place, grinning as she gestured to them. "See? Big goats!"
Char let out a short laugh, still catching his breath from the climb. "Yeah. Really big goats."
Selka ran forward toward one of them—a particularly large one with a dark streak along its spine. The goat turned its massive head and snorted, its golden eyes watching her approach. Char tensed, instinctively preparing to grab her if things went wrong, but Selka just giggled and reached up to scratch behind its ears.
The goat huffed once, then leaned into her touch with a low, rumbling sound.
Selka turned back to Char, grinning. "See? They love it!"
Char hesitated, then stepped forward carefully. Another goat, slightly smaller than the first, watched him with suspicion.
Selka giggled. "You have to be gentle. Like this!" She demonstrated again, rubbing little circles behind the first goat's ears.
Char took a slow breath and mimicked her movements, reaching out to the smaller goat. At first, it flinched, but after a moment, it allowed him to scratch lightly behind its ears. Its fur was thicker than he expected, coarse but warm.
The goat let out a satisfied grunt and leaned into his hand.
Char smirked. "Huh. Guess I'm a natural."
Selka beamed. "Told you!"
They stayed like that for a while—just enjoying the quiet, the soft sounds of the wind and the occasional snorts of the goats. Char hadn't realized how much he needed a moment like this. No fighting, no running, no looming threats. Just... peace.
After a while, Selka sat down on a nearby rock, hugging her knees to her chest. Char followed, taking a seat beside her.
She was quiet for a moment, watching the goats. Then, in a small voice, she said, "I don't have parents."
Char glanced at her.
She wasn't looking at him, just staring at the horizon. Her little hands were clasped tightly around her knees.
"I was just a baby when they died," she continued. "I don't even remember them. Everyone in the village takes care of me, so I'm not alone alone. But..." She trailed off, kicking a small pebble with her foot.
Char swallowed, unsure of what to say.
Selka turned to him suddenly, her bright yellow eyes wide. "It's okay, though! I have lots of people who care about me. Rhun, Ferme, even Lucien—even if he's grumpy. And the others let me help with stuff, so I'm not useless." She smiled, but there was something fragile about it.
Char took a slow breath. "You remind me of someone," he said.
Selka tilted her head. "Who?"
He hesitated, then said softly, "Mira."
Selka blinked.
"She grew up without parents too," Char continued. "The people in Hallow's Rest raised her, just like the people here raised you. She acts all tough, like she doesn't need anyone. But I think, deep down, she wonders what it would have been like to have a family."
Selka was quiet for a long moment. Then she gave him a small, lopsided smile. "Maybe I'll be like her when I grow up."
Char chuckled. "Hopefully with a little less stubbornness."
Selka giggled, kicking her feet. "I dunno. I think stubborn is good."
Char smirked. "You would think that."
They sat together for a while longer, the wind brushing through their hair, the goats grazing peacefully nearby.
*
As Char and Selka made their way back down the slope, the crisp mountain air brushing against their faces, she walked with a noticeable spring in her step. Her earlier solemnity had faded, replaced with an easy brightness, like the conversation had lifted something heavy from her chest. Char couldn't help but smile at the way she practically bounced ahead, arms outstretched like she was pretending to fly.
"You're in a good mood," Char remarked, adjusting his footing carefully on the rocky path.
Selka spun around on her heels, walking backward as she grinned at him. "Of course! You're fun to talk to. And you're really nice for an outsider."
Char chuckled. "Nice, huh? You didn't see me when I punched Flint in the face."
Selka gasped, eyes wide. "You punched someone?!"
He smirked. "Yep."
She covered her mouth with both hands, staring at him like he'd just told her he could breathe fire. Then she burst out laughing.
"That's so cool," she said between giggles.
Char shrugged. "I try."
They continued walking, and Selka hopped between rocks as though it were a game, nimble and carefree.
After a few moments, she turned her head slightly. "Hey, Char?"
"Yeah?"
She hesitated, then asked, "Why are you really here?"
Char blinked. "What do you mean?"
Selka tilted her head. "You don't seem like a bad person. But I know Lucien doesn't trust you, and Chief Rhun looked at you like he was thinking really hard about something. So... why are you here?"
Char exhaled slowly, weighing his words. He could tell her the truth—about his search for the Ascension Stones, about how he had been thrown into this world without warning, about how he still wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do. But looking at Selka's curious, innocent face, he couldn't bring himself to burden her with all that.
Instead, he smiled faintly. "I'm just trying to find my way."
Selka watched him for a long moment, then nodded as if she understood.
"Okay," she said simply. "Then I hope you find it."
Char looked at her, a little surprised by how genuine she sounded.
"Thanks," he said, and he meant it.
They reached the lower paths where the rocky terrain smoothed out, and the settlement came into view below. Smoke curled lazily from a few chimneys, and the sound of faint chatter and activity carried on the wind.
Selka stopped at a fork in the path, pointing toward the left. "I'm gonna go help with the food prep," she said. "Ferme says I'm too small to carry the big pots, but I bet I could do it if I tried really hard."
Char smirked. "Just don't drop anything."
She stuck out her tongue. "No promises."
Then, without warning, she darted forward and wrapped her arms around Char in a quick, tight hug.
Before he could react, she pulled away, grinning at him. "See you later, Char!"
And with that, she took off down the path, her white hair bouncing as she ran.
Char stood there for a moment, watching her go.
Then, with a small, amused shake of his head, he turned and made his way back to the shack.