The ash was falling again.
Fine and weightless, it clung to Astrid’s clothes as she tightened the last strap on her pack.
The springs hissed behind them, swallowed by mist, but the air had changed — sharper now, carrying the tang of sulfur and something older beneath it.
Something alive.
Kurai stood a little ways off, back to her, facing the broken ridges ahead.
His coat shifted in the dry breeze, his tail flicking once — restless. Alert.
Astrid hesitated, then moved to stand beside him.
They didn’t speak at first.
The world around them had gone still — like it was holding its breath.
Finally, Astrid bumped her shoulder against his.
"Race you to the next ridge?"
Kurai snorted.
"You'd trip halfway and blame me."
"I would not."
"You would," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Astrid smirked. "Excuse me, I’m a lady, thank you very much."
"Really? Since when?"
He nudged her playfully and jogged ahead.
They started walking — boots crunching softly through the ash.
At first, it felt almost normal.
Their banter easy, familiar — the comfort of an old rhythm.
---
Astrid pointed at a particularly twisted rock formation.
"Look at that boulder. That’s a nice boulder."
Kurai squinted at it, confused.
"That’s not a boulder?"
"Never mind," she laughed. "It’s from a movie."
He blinked at her, completely lost.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"What the hell is a movie?"
Astrid smiled to herself, a pang tugging at her chest.
Home feels so far away now.
Almost like another dream I can’t quite reach anymore.
She tried to explain — about movies, games, stories from her world — all the things’ people did to imagine places like this one.
Kurai looked baffled.
Why would anyone want a world like his?
The thought stung a little more than she expected.
---
The ground shifted as they climbed — from soft ash to crumbling black stone.
The air grew thinner. Harsher.
Astrid stumbled once when the rock gave underfoot, a yelp escaping before she caught herself.
Kurai was there instantly.
His hand caught her elbow, steadying her.
Grounding her.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low and serious.
Astrid nodded quickly, breathless.
"Yeah. I’m good. Nothing broken yet."
His hand lingered — his thumb grazing her forearm before he let go, a little too quickly.
"Careful," he muttered. "You’re not allowed to fall yet."
Astrid smirked, heart hammering stupidly.
"Yet?"
He shrugged.
"Can’t have you falling for me."
She groaned — but giggled anyway, grateful for the joke. Grateful for him.
They kept moving — closer now.
---
The climb grew steeper.
Kurai stayed close — subtly guiding her with a touch at her back when the path narrowed.
Keeping her steady without needing to say a word.
The banter faded — not awkward, just... necessary.
The trail fractured. Steam hissed from cracks in the ground.
Ahead, the ridge loomed.
The end of something.
The beginning of something else.
They crested a small rise — and the path fell away beneath them.
---
Astrid froze.
Below stretched a valley carved out of memory and ash — a graveyard of bones.
Massive ribs jutted skyward like cathedral arches.
Half-buried skulls leered at the sky.
Wings, crumbled and broken, stretched like torn sails across the ground.
The air shimmered, thick with forgotten magic.
Astrid’s breath caught.
Beside her, Kurai stood very still.
She turned — and saw the way his shoulders had tensed, the way his fists curled unconsciously at his sides.
"Kurai?" she asked quietly.
He didn’t answer right away.
When he finally did, his voice was rough.
Reverent.
"I know this place," he whispered.
Astrid’s chest tightened.
"How?"
"I don’t know," he said. His golden eyes locked on the ruins. "But it feels... familiar. Like a memory I forgot I had."
He shifted closer to her — protective — shielding her from something neither of them could see.
Astrid swallowed hard.
He looks lost. Caught between awe and grief.
"Are you okay?" she asked again, voice soft.
He exhaled slowly.
"Yeah. Just... stay close."
The way he said it — low, almost pleading — made something inside her shiver.
She nodded, unable to trust her voice.
I don’t like this.
---
They started down the slope.
The bones towered around them — silent witnesses to a forgotten war.
Astrid kept glancing at Kurai.
He moved differently here — lighter, smoother.
Like he belonged.
Like someone remembering a home they'd never seen. And something about that broke her heart.
And it also terrified her.
She hated the thought — hated the ugly twist inside her chest that whispered:
He belongs here.
Not with you.
Astrid clenched her hands to keep from reaching for him.
What right did she have to hold him back from something he might be part of?
None.
And still —
the fear bloomed.
---
Kurai slowed, brushing a hand against a massive rib bone.
His fingers were gentle — almost reverent.
He closed his eyes for a breath, as if tasting some memory in the air.
Astrid’s stomach twisted.
"Kurai," she said softly.
He opened his eyes — and for a second, something ancient flickered there.
Something not entirely human.
Golden, molten, other.
Then he blinked — and it was gone.
"I'm okay," he said, more firmly.
Astrid forced a smile she didn’t feel.
This place is connected to him.
But how?
And what does that make him?
She spiraled — trying to connect the dots, trying to stay two steps ahead — but her thoughts only made her chest ache worse.
---
They kept walking.
The ash swirled around them in lazy spirals.
The skeletal valley stretched endlessly ahead.
And with every step, Astrid felt the weight pressing heavier.
The certainty that something was changing.
That soon, she might have to let him go.
Bridge and flame. This was his world, not hers.
---
At the edge of the valley, Astrid brushed her hand against his — a fleeting, almost trembling touch.
A silent plea.
A silent promise:
I’m still here.
I’m still choosing you.
For as long as you’ll let me.
