The wind had a chill to it as we walked. The world around us was a stretch of endless wilderness, with trees swaying in unison, as if guiding us forward.
It had been days since Kaelen joined us. I couldn't say I fully understood him yet, but his presence had begun to feel like something we needed, even if I wasn't ready to admit it aloud.
I glanced at Seonwoo, whose silence felt heavier now. The weight of the past was still clinging to him, especially after the battle in the fort.
I could see it in his posture—tense, always alert—and the way his eyes flitted over the landscape as if expecting an ambush at every turn.
"Seonwoo," I said quietly, hoping my voice would reach him over the wind.
He didn't look at me immediately but finally turned his head. "What is it?"
I hesitated. His eyes had a sharpness to them, a quickness that came from having survived too many battles, too many close calls.
"Do you think... Kaelen will be able to keep up with us? He's still recovering."
Seonwoo's lips curled in a faint smirk, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "He's tougher than he looks. He'll manage. Besides, we need him. We're not getting out of this place alone."
I nodded, not wanting to admit how much I agreed with him. There was something about Kaelen's quiet strength that was starting to ease the tension in the group.
Even as we walked, Kaelen remained a few paces behind, his eyes always scanning the horizon. He was vigilant, calm, and his presence seemed to make the wildness of this world feel a little less daunting.
I looked over at him now. He hadn't said much since we left the cliff, only offering the occasional comment about the plants or a potential hazard in our path.
But his silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was steady, like the calm before a storm, or maybe like someone who simply understood the value of quiet.
"Kaelen," I called, my voice steady but with a hint of curiosity. "What are you thinking about?"
He looked up, his pale eyes locking with mine for a moment before he spoke. "This world... It's much different than the one I was born into. I never expected to be walking beside someone like you."
I frowned, not quite understanding. "What do you mean?"
He paused, his gaze flicking briefly to Seonwoo, who was leading the way, his back slightly hunched. "Seonwoo doesn't trust me. You do."
I stopped in my tracks, surprised. "How do you know?"
"His eyes," Kaelen replied. "The way he looks at me. It's not hostile, but it's... cautious. And with good reason. I'm still a stranger to both of you."
I swallowed, trying to find the words. "We're all strangers here. But that doesn't mean I can't trust you."
Kaelen didn't respond right away. Instead, he looked ahead, his lips barely parting as he murmured, "In this world, trust can be as fragile as the wind. But I'll prove myself to you."
His words hung in the air as we resumed walking. I couldn't help but wonder if he was hiding something, like most people I had met so far.
But that nagging feeling that had plagued me ever since I entered this world was momentarily quieted by Kaelen's steady presence.
Later, as we set up camp by a small stream, Kaelen took charge of tending to the fire. Seonwoo, ever the warrior, scouted the perimeter, and I gathered some herbs Kaelen had pointed out.
The air between us was charged, but it felt... comfortable, in a way. There was no arguing, no fighting. We were a strange team, formed by necessity, but it worked.
As the night fell and the fire crackled, we sat in a circle, the warmth of the flames flickering in our eyes.
"Seonwoo," I said after a long stretch of silence, "what was it like... before all this?"
Seonwoo looked up, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wasn't sure if he would answer, but then he spoke, his voice low.
"It was easier. I was... different. I was a soldier. I followed orders. Now, I'm just trying to survive."
Kaelen, who had been quietly preparing some medicinal herbs, glanced up. "You still fight like a soldier."
Seonwoo smirked, the tension in his posture easing just a bit. "I guess some habits never die."
I watched them both, feeling like I was between two worlds. Kaelen's calm intelligence, his thoughtful words, and Seonwoo's unyielding strength, his blunt honesty, were two sides of the same coin. One offered wisdom, and the other, action. And somehow, in this strange world, they fit together.
"We'll make it out of here," I said, finally breaking the silence. "Together."
Seonwoo and Kaelen exchanged a glance. For a split second, I thought I saw something pass between them—a silent agreement or a shared understanding—but it was gone before I could name it.
"I hope you're right," Seonwoo replied, his voice almost like a promise.
And with that, the three of us settled into the night, uncertain of what lay ahead but knowing we would face it together.
The stars stretched above us, an endless sea of glittering lights that seemed too perfect for a world like this.
The wind had died down to a soft whisper, and for a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire, the warmth it provided a stark contrast to the cold night.
I leaned back, my eyes tracing the constellations, searching for something familiar in the chaos of the sky.
"Everything feels out of place here. I don't belong in this world. But the stars... the stars feel like home. Even if the world beneath them is nothing like the one I knew."
I let out a slow breath, then shifted my gaze to the others.
Kaelen sat a little farther from the fire, his pale eyes reflecting the glow of the flames, like they were made of the same frost that seemed to cling to his skin.
He looked so different under the stars—his features sharp, almost angelic, but with something too cold, too distant about him. The sharpness of his cheekbones caught the light, giving him a strangely ethereal quality.
His hair, silver-white and unruly, fell around his face like a cloud of frost. His skin, pale like the moonlight, seemed to glow faintly in the dark, making him appear more like a specter than a man.
I couldn't help but wonder what lay behind those eyes. Those eyes that never seemed to rest, always scanning, always calculating. I wasn't sure what he was thinking right now.
Maybe nothing at all. But there was something in the way he sat—so still, so composed—that made me think he wasn't quite with us. Maybe he was somewhere else entirely.
I glanced back at the stars. They didn't feel as lonely tonight. I felt the urge to say something—anything—to break the silence between us, but the words wouldn't come. What could I say?
"Kaelen," I said quietly, my voice barely louder than a whisper, "what do you see when you look up at the stars?"
He didn't answer immediately, as if the question wasn't one he was used to being asked. His eyes flicked over to me, his gaze steady and unreadable.
"The same thing you see," he replied, his voice almost too soft. "A sky filled with stars. Nothing more."
I tilted my head, studying him. There was something about his words that didn't sit right. "You don't think there's something more to it? Something... beyond the stars?"
His gaze flickered, just for a second, but it was gone before I could fully catch it. He leaned forward slightly, as if considering my question more carefully.
"What is beyond them?" he asked, his tone even, distant. "All I see is darkness between the stars. The sky is just a void."
His words made something in me tighten. A void. It felt like the kind of thought you have when you've lost faith in something—maybe even in the world itself. But I wasn't ready to push him further on it. Not yet.
I sighed and looked back up at the sky, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to ignore the lingering discomfort.
"I think there's more," I said softly, almost to myself. "I think we're just too small to understand it."
Seonwoo, who had been silent up until that point, let out a low chuckle from his spot by the fire. "A little too poetic for my taste, Harin," he teased, his voice rough from disuse. "But you've always had a way with the stars."
I shot him a sidelong glance, the hint of a smirk tugging at my lips. "Not poetry, just... observation."
"You make it sound like the stars are going to answer you," Kaelen added, his voice tinged with amusement, though his eyes were still distant, as though his mind was somewhere far off.
I rolled my eyes. "Maybe they will, if I ask the right question." I turned back to the sky. "I don't know. I just... I can't help but think there's something more than just survival. Maybe it's the stars, or maybe it's just the way we keep going, even when everything around us is falling apart."
The fire crackled, its warmth a reminder of the cold night air. I felt a quiet unease settle between us, but it was different from the tension we had earlier.
Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long while, I wasn't the only one keeping my thoughts locked away.
"Maybe we don't need the stars to tell us what's next," Seonwoo said after a long pause, his voice softer than I expected. "Maybe we just need to keep walking."
I turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, I saw the soldier in him—the one who never stopped fighting.
"Keep walking," I repeated, almost to myself. "Yeah. That's all we can do."
There was a silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The three of us sat in it, each of us lost in our thoughts, yet bound by the unspoken understanding that we couldn't stop. Not yet. Not when we still had so far to go.
"Tomorrow, we move further," I said finally, my voice firm. "We can't afford to stay in one place for too long."
Seonwoo nodded, already standing and stretching. "I'll scout in the morning. I don't like staying in one spot longer than we need to."
Kaelen didn't say anything, but the way his eyes flickered toward the horizon told me he was already thinking about what lay ahead.
I glanced at him one more time, feeling the weight of his presence. There was something in the quiet, in the way he carried himself, that made me want to know more. But I wasn't sure if that was something I should pursue.
Instead, I let out a slow breath, turning my gaze back to the stars. We had a long road ahead of us, and the night felt as though it stretched endlessly, just like the path we would have to walk.