17. Lora
Lora
Icollapsed onto the bench beside Erion and dug into my bowl of porridge. Every muscle in my back screamed from endless days of shoving boats against the current.
Erion’s face brightened, welcoming as dawn over frozen ground. “Good morning.”
Warmth stirred in my chest. No matter how tired I was, his smile always cheered me up.
Across from him, Hadrien prodded his porridge with a spoon, lip curled in disdain. His arrogance barely bothered me anymore. For my own sanity, I’d learned to ignore him.
The eating hall hummed with quiet morning life—the scrape of benches, the clink of spoons against bowls, the low murmur of travelers. Our group was scattered across four tables near the hearth, while strangers filled the rest.
At the table beside ours, dark-haired Ravena and black-bearded Mekor reached for the last piece of bread at the same time.
Their fingers brushed, and both withdrew, insisting the other take it.
A blush crept across Ravena’s cheeks as Mekor broke the piece in half and offered her one.
As she nibbled her bread, his gaze lingered on her, utterly captivated.
I couldn’t help smiling into my porridge at their obvious infatuation with each other.
The creaking stairs announced the arrival of our last two guards.
Thick-muscled Torvin boomed across the room, demanding breakfast. Despite his stern tone, a broad smile split his face, the kind that made him impossible not to like.
His knife-thin brother, Kalith, followed with effortless grace as they joined Ravena and Mekor at their table.
“Finally,” Hadrien muttered, then raised his voice. “Listen up, everyone! Today, we’ll finally turn downstream!” His tone was cheerful, like he’d announced something worth celebrating.
Bitterness twisted in my chest. How generous of him to celebrate on our behalf. It might’ve meant something if he’d actually lifted a finger to help shove the boats upstream.
My frown deepened as something else struck me. “Why would we turn downstream? Shouldn’t we continue west?”
“Oh no, my dear.” Hadrien gestured for one of his servants. “Fetch the map.”
The man scurried up the stairs and returned with the parchment, spreading it across the table.
Hadrien’s finger tapped our current location. “See, we’re here, in the town of Dell. The river upstream cuts straight into Blightlands. We need to turn at this fork and go downstream.”
I traced the river south with my own finger. “If we follow this, we’d need to go all the way down to Mistmeadow before switching to this river upstream again. It would add at least a week to our journey.”
Hadrien’s lip curled. “So? We don’t have any other options.”
“Yes, we do. Through Blightlands.”
“Blightlands?” Hadrien’s shriek tore through the soft murmurs. “Are you crazy? That’s suicide!”
Conversations stuttered around us, heads swiveling our way. I fought to hide a smile as a twisted part of me savored his displeasure.
“Why?” I leaned forward, meeting his wide eyes. “You’re a moon master. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few monsters.”
I shouldn’t taunt him like this, but watching him squirm over a simple trek through Blightlands sparked something wicked inside.
Red blotches bloomed on his face, spreading down his neck. He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut in.
“Besides, we won’t be going deep into Blightlands.” I tapped the map. “This river runs close to the Moon Queendom border. If we’re careful, we won’t encounter any monsters at all.”
Erion nodded. “I’m with Lora on this. But you’re free to go around if you want. We can meet in Brookfalls.”
He glanced my way, eyes glittering with mirth. A smirk tugged at my mouth.
Sergeant Rika left the neighboring table and took the chair beside me. “My guards and I are ordered to follow where the Dual Wielder goes. If Erion enters Blightlands, we follow.”
Gratitude sparked in my chest. Rika usually stayed out of our disputes. This was the first time she’d taken a stance against the master.
“But—but—” Hadrien sputtered. “There are no inns in Blightlands! How will we sleep?”
I pressed my lips together, trapping a laugh. “Have you never camped outside before?”
Hadrien bristled, puffing up like an angry raspkin. “Fine. We’ll go through Blightlands.”
His chair scraped the floor as he shot to his feet and stormed off toward his room.
I turned to Rika. “Thank you.”
A knowing smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t mention it.”
“We’ll need provisions for a week.” My gaze wandered as I considered our options. “We should stock up here in town before we go.”
Rika flipped her copper hair over her shoulder and rattled off orders to her guards. Splitting them into pairs, she assigned each a supply list, dispatching them to different shops.
I beamed at her. Stars and sea, I loved Rika’s efficiency.
Before long, we set off upstream. At the next fork, we continued pushing against the current instead of taking the downstream route.
“Remember to keep quiet,” I called to the other boats. “Monsters are drawn to loud noises.”
The shift into Blightlands came gradually, just like back home.
No fixed border, no fences or walls—just a creeping change in atmosphere.
The air grew thicker, heavy with moisture and decay.
Trees crowded the riverbanks, branches weaving overhead into a canopy that swallowed the light.
Birdsong faded to eerie silence, broken only by the sloshing of water against the hulls.
We traveled in silence all day, taking turns to propel the boats upstream.
When we stopped to make camp, dusk had settled around us. Shadows stretched long and distorted between the trees. After securing the boats to twisted trunks along the muddy bank, we spread out, claiming patches of dry ground between snaking roots.
I unfurled my bedroll between two gnarled trees. Just a few strides away, Erion pressed his bedroll between thick roots. When our eyes met, his cheeks reddened. A question flickered in his gaze, as though he needed my permission to choose a spot so close to me.
Hadrien’s shriek pierced the quiet. “Ah, a monster! Help!”
My magic surged and I ripped water from the river, freezing it mid-air into ice spikes. I spun toward his voice, searching for the threat.
No leathery beasts. No jagged horns or sharp teeth. Nothing.
The moon master thrashed in a tangle of vines, flailing like a caught fish. “It grabbed me! It—” He caught one of the vines, understanding dawning on his face. “Oh.”
I lowered the ice back into the river, heart still hammering. Ridiculous.
Rika’s gaze traced the ice, genuine respect on her face. “You have fast reflexes.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Thanks.”
“And the way you froze that water in an instant.” Her gaze fixed on me, dark eyes twinkling in the last dregs of twilight. “Impressive.”
The words settled over me like an ill-fitting cloak. I wasn’t used to praise. Then again, I usually didn’t wield in front of others.
“That’s what I’ve been telling her!” Erion slid up beside me, offering a warm smile.
I huffed a dismissive laugh. Sure, he had told me, but praise from him always felt like flirting, his words wrapped in too much heat. Hearing it from Rika settled somewhere deeper, taking root in my core.
Hadrien finally extracted himself from the vines with a huff. “Someone needs to make a fire.”
“No fires,” I said. “It’ll draw too much attention, and we’ve already made too much noise.”
His jaw worked, muttering curses under his breath.
A smirk tugged at my mouth. His annoyance shouldn’t lift my spirits, but I couldn’t help it.
Rika began dividing her guards into pairs for the night shifts.
“I can take a shift,” I offered.
She shook her head. “Guarding is our duty, not yours. But I wouldn’t mind if you taught me some of your tricks once we’re out of Blightlands.” With a wink, she turned back to her guards.
Warmth bloomed in my chest as I crawled into my bedroll.
The ground was hard beneath me, damp earth and rotting leaves thick in my nose. But the day had gone smoothly. If I’d read the map right, we’d traveled farther than expected. At this pace, we’d reach Brookfalls in less than a week.