15. Arvid #2
The walk to the flameroot fields stretched across undulating terrain that reminded Arvid of everything she found both beautiful and unsettling about Ashvorn.
The volcanic soil crunched beneath their boots, dark red earth that pulsed with residual heat from the Caldran volcano's ancient fury.
Steam rose from scattered vents, creating an otherworldly landscape that made her feel like she was walking across the surface of an alien planet—which, she supposed, she was.
Dorn moved with the steady pace of a man who had made this trek countless times, his weathered hands carrying sample containers and testing equipment.
The silence between them felt comfortable rather than awkward, both of them focused on the task ahead rather than conversation.
But Arvid's mind refused to stay focused on the investigation.
Instead, it kept circling back to Calix's revelation, to the way his voice had roughened when he said "you are my fated mate," to the hurt that had flashed across his face when she fled.
The mate bond he had mentioned. She could feel it now more than ever, humming beneath her skin like a low-frequency vibration she couldn't ignore anymore. Emotions that weren't hers flickered through her—frustration, longing, and something deeper that felt like grief.
Was that what Calix was feeling right now?
The thought made her chest tight with guilt.
"Here we are," Dorn announced, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts.
The flameroot fields spread before them in neat, organized rows that spoke of generations of careful cultivation. The dark red stalks rose from the volcanic soil like accusatory fingers.
Dorn handed her a pair of thick gloves. "Best to be cautious until we know what we're dealing with."
She pulled them on, the material thick enough to protect her hands but flexible enough to maintain dexterity.
Then she knelt beside the nearest plant, wrapping her fingers around the base of the stalk.
The plant came free with surprising ease, as if its root system had been compromised.
Then what she saw when she lifted it made her stomach drop.
The roots dangled from the stalk like blackened veins, twisted and diseased-looking. These roots looked like they had been dipped in tar, glistening with an oily substance that made her skin crawl.
"That's not what they're supposed to look like," Dorn said grimly, confirming her suspicions. "They should be yellow. Healthy. These look..." He trailed off, his expression darkening.
"Contaminated," Arvid finished, her scientific mind already cataloging the implications. "This isn't natural degradation."
Dorn began pulling more plants, his movements systematic and efficient. Each root system told the same story—blackened, twisted, and wrong. He deposited the samples into plastic collection bags with the careful precision of a man who understood the gravity of what they were discovering.
"Do you think this is natural?" Arvid asked, though she already suspected the answer.
Dorn straightened, surveying the fields with the gaze of someone seeing a familiar landscape through new, horrifying clarity. "No. I think someone deliberately contaminated this soil. Someone sprayed toxins here for a very specific purpose."
"Who would do that? And why?"
"I don't know," Dorn replied, his voice heavy with the weight of implications neither of them wanted to voice. "But it's certainly one way to destabilize a territory. And it definitely worked."
Arvid's mind immediately jumped to the rogue dragon attack from two days ago. Was the same person behind both incidents? Was someone systematically targeting Ashvorn—and now her specifically?
The thought made her want to find Calix immediately, to tell him what they had discovered, to see that sharp intelligence in his green eyes as he processed the information and began formulating a response.
He was the first person she wanted to share this revelation with, the first person she trusted to understand the implications and take action.
Why is he always the first person I think of now?
They worked in tense silence, filling jars with contaminated soil samples and documenting the extent of the damage.
But with each passing minute, Arvid felt increasingly hollow.
The familiar refuge of scientific investigation—the thing that had sustained her through three years of carefully controlled solitude—suddenly felt insufficient. Incomplete.
She missed Calix.
The realization hit her with startling clarity as they packed up their samples and began the walk back to the medical laboratory.
She missed Calix's presence beside her, the way he anticipated her needs, the way he made her feel less alone in her own skin.
The mate bond was growing stronger by the hour, weaving itself through her consciousness until she could barely tell where her emotions ended and his began.
Is this what forever feels like? she wondered. This constant awareness of another person, this inability to separate yourself from them?
When they finally arrived at the laboratory, Calix was waiting.
Arvid's heart lurched at the sight of him—tall and commanding even in stillness, his dark hair slightly disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it.
The mate bond sang between them, relief and want and something deeper flooding through her system.
Instead of feeling trapped or overwhelmed by his presence, she felt... complete. Like a missing piece of herself had been restored.
"We need to talk," Calix said, his voice carrying that familiar note of authority that should have made her bristle but instead sent heat curling through her.
For once, she didn't feel the urge to run or deflect or hide behind professional boundaries. The discovery in the flameroot fields had crystallized something inside her—the understanding that some threats were too big to face alone, that some battles required trust rather than independence.
"Sure," she replied, meeting his gaze directly. "Where do you want to talk?"
"Somewhere private."
She nodded and followed him out of the laboratory, neither of them speaking as they left the medical building behind. But the silence between them felt different now—charged with possibility rather than avoidance, heavy with things that needed to be said rather than things that needed to be hidden.
They walked for what felt like miles, leaving the bustling districts of Ashvorn behind for terrain that grew increasingly wild and beautiful.
The volcanic landscape gave way to something that looked almost tropical, lush vegetation fed by underground thermal springs that created pockets of startling green amid the red-black stone.
When they finally stopped, Arvid found herself staring at one of the most beautiful places she had ever seen.
"The Hot Springs," Calix said simply.
Natural pools of crystal-clear water steamed gently in the afternoon heat, surrounded by smooth volcanic rock that had been worn into organic curves by centuries of thermal activity.
Exotic plants she didn't recognize created natural privacy screens, their leaves a deep emerald that seemed to glow in the filtered sunlight.
It was intimate. Secluded. Perfect for the conversation they both knew was coming. And despite everything—the mate bond, the contaminated flameroot, the growing certainty that someone was targeting Ashvorn—Arvid felt ready to finally stop running.