Chapter 29
Illariana Arden’s POV
“What did you just say?” I demanded, staring wide-eyed at the smirking Airis.
He looked far too calm considering what he’d suggested only moments ago.
“No.
Absolutely not.
You’ve lost your mind,” I snapped when he still didn’t answer.
“I already told you—you should learn how to ride a Beckbill.”
His tone remained infuriatingly casual.
“Especially since you already have a driver’s license.”
We had parked near the shoreline, facing what was either a sea or an ocean.
I still had no idea what surrounded Magicslan.
From where we stood, I could make out the outline of an island swallowed by mist.
According to Airis, it was Ruel’s museum—
Named after the eleventh child of the city’s first ruler.
“That’s a license for a car,” I emphasized, pointing at the Beckbill.
“A car stays on the ground instead of flying through the sky like a possessed piece of metal.”
“You’d survive.”
“I’m seriously considering setting you on fire right now.”
I glared at him.
“Go ahead.”
He nodded toward the bracelet around my wrist with a grin.
I sighed.
“I’ll be right there beside you,” he said, sounding more serious this time.
“Helping.
Making sure nothing goes wrong.
You have absolutely no reason to be afraid.”
He looked at me with that familiar calm intensity.
But I still refused to agree to this insanity.
“Trust, remember?”
“I do trust you,” I answered.
Honestly...
Even I was surprised by how sincere that sounded.
Damn.
I trusted him.
“Then what’s stopping you?”
“I’m scared, Airis!”
My voice rose again before I forced myself to regain control.
“Do you really not understand what fear feels like?”
He stayed silent.
For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer at all.
I was already searching for something else to say when he finally spoke.
“Does fear really deserve that much power?”
I snorted.
“It’s hard to ignore something that can paralyze not only your body—
But your soul too.”
I held his gaze stubbornly.
“The devil can do the same thing,” Airis replied calmly.
“And everyone says you should fight that.
So why should fear be treated any differently?”
Now I was the one left speechless.
“You’re not someone who runs from fear.”
His voice softened ever so slightly.
“The Fireling I’ve come to know over these past few days keeps moving forward no matter what.
Obstacles simply don’t exist for her.”
I looked away.
I couldn’t pretend his words didn’t affect me.
Because they did.
“What if you just imagined that version of me?” I asked quietly.
His hand rose to my cheek, gently guiding my face back toward him.
A faint smile touched Airis’s lips.
For a moment, he felt more like a dream than reality.
“Are you trying to justify yourself?” he asked, raising a brow as he absentmindedly caught his lower lip between his teeth.
I exhaled softly.
Trying very hard not to lose myself completely.
Instead, I rolled my eyes and gave in.
“Fine.
I’ll try to make peace with your flying death machine.”
I nodded toward the Beckbill.
A few minutes later, I was already sitting on it while Airis settled in behind me.
And honestly, I couldn’t tell what affected me more—
The cold metal beneath me,
Or the warmth of Airis surrounding my back.
“Before you can fly it, you need to scan your information through the sensor so the Beckbill can calibrate itself to you.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It adjusts to your weight, your reach, your grip strength, and the speed best suited to you.”
“Can’t I control the speed myself?” I asked, forgetting Airis couldn’t actually see me.
“You can,” he replied calmly.
“But the Beckbill won’t let you exceed the speed it knows you can handle.”
I nodded, studying the handlebars and the small control panel in the center before pressing my fingerprint against the scanner.
“It’s also important to pay attention to how you shift your weight,” Airis continued.
“The Beckbill follows your movements.
It leans with your body.”
“Then what’s the point of the handlebars?” I scoffed.
“To hold on to.”
At that exact moment, his warm hands settled around my waist.
The world froze.
So did I.
I could’ve sworn Airis stopped breathing too.
Suddenly, it felt as though fear had never existed inside me at all.
It vanished in an instant.
“Ready to try lifting off?” he murmured.
“Press the right handle.”
His voice sounded rougher now.
“Okay.”
Mine did too.
Damn.
We were completely aware of each other.
Taking a quiet breath, I pressed the handle.
The vibration of the Beckbill traveled through both our bodies.
A few seconds later, the damned thing began to rise.
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me.
My heart practically leaped into my throat while fear swallowed me whole.
“Easy,” Airis whispered.
Judging by his tone, the bastard was smiling.
His right hand covered mine—
Steady.
Confident.
Impossibly gentle.
“What do I have to do to make you stop being afraid?”
His whisper brushed against my ear.
For a split second, I almost thought his lips had grazed it too—
Teasing both me and the traitorous thing beating inside my chest.
Then I felt his thighs tighten ever so slightly against mine while his other hand covered my left.
He took control.
Somehow, I still couldn’t breathe.
Even though the fear had already begun to fade.
“I’m going to teach you how to control it.”
Maybe I should ask him to teach me how to control my feelings instead.
He seemed to have perfect control over his own.
“Did you suddenly forget how to speak?” he whispered again,
Either intentionally or accidentally brushing my ear once more.
I swallowed quietly.
“I’m afraid every thought in my head right now would get me expelled from Isthmond.”
The bastard actually laughed.
The sound sent goosebumps racing across my skin.
“Then maybe we should argue near the Beckbill more often,” he murmured.
“That way I can always sit you on it and bully you into silence.”
“You know, Airis,” I muttered, “you should thank every saint alive that I’m wearing this damned bracelet and can’t set your ass on fire right now.”
His laughter washed over me again—
Warm.
Velvety.
Dangerously addictive.
Pretending I didn’t like it suddenly felt almost sacrilegious.
The Beckbill flew closer and closer to the island.
The moment we entered the fog, my eyes greedily took in everything around us.
In the distance, I could make out charming little houses with distinct architecture, endless stretches of greenery, and sculptures scattered throughout the landscape.
I noticed several lakes as well.
The entire place seemed to exist in perfect balance between nature and human creation.
“What was Ruel best at?” I asked, my gaze catching on a massive glass circle standing at the center of the island.
But the lower we descended, the more it disappeared behind the dense canopy of trees.
“Everything,” Airis answered.
“Everything he touched became perfection—
Poetry.
Paintings.
Music.
Sculpture.”
I felt his hold around me loosen slightly.
The Beckbill began slowing down.
The ground drifted steadily closer beneath us.
“That’s why I don’t believe in talent the way Tarven does,” Airis continued.
“I believe in discipline.
Relentless work.”
“Ruel certainly makes a compelling argument,” I admitted, noticing that even Airis’s knees had relaxed slightly.
Apparently, I was finally about to learn how Beckbill parking worked.
Airis loosened his arms and legs.
But leaned his body forward ever so slightly.
“When landing, sudden movements are the worst thing you can do,” he explained.
“The Beckbill should only feel you shifting your weight forward.”
He spoke calmly while guiding us down.
“To accelerate, you lean forward with both your body and your hands.
To slow down, you ease both your hands and your legs back.”
He repeated the instructions once more.
I still didn’t fully understand the logic behind this machine.
But I accepted it anyway.
The Beckbill touched down surprisingly gently.
I still couldn’t get over how quiet it was.
Motorcycles back on Earth had always been unbearably loud.
Beckbills, on the other hand, glided almost silently.
“Shouldn’t the Beckbill be tracking my movements?” I asked.
“It scanned me, didn’t it?”
“Because our bodies are in contact,” Airis replied calmly, “it’s reading us as a single rider.”
My imagination immediately betrayed me, creating several very dangerous scenarios to replay before I fell asleep that night.
Thank God Airis couldn’t see my face.
I could practically feel myself blushing.
The moment the Beckbill came to a complete stop, I forced myself to think about something else.
Anything safer than that.
“You said I’d get to know you better during this trip,” I said, quickly climbing off before he had the chance to move.
“So how exactly is Ruel’s island supposed to help with that?”
Unlike me, Airis never rushed.
Never acted impulsively.
He moved with quiet deliberation.
“I think a person's comfort zone tells you a great deal about who they are.”
“This is your comfort zone?”
Our eyes met.
Airis nodded.
I froze for a moment.
For the first time since meeting him, my mind drew a clear line between us.
We both found refuge in art.
Whether by creating it—
Or simply standing in the presence of something beautiful.
Something that carried meaning even in complete silence.
“There’s an official route through the island,” Airis said with a faint smirk.
“But today we'll be following mine instead.”
Somehow, that made me even more excited.
Anastasia Lang’s POV
After the disastrous training session—which had cost us hours with almost nothing to show for it—Tarven took me to a tavern.
The place was filled almost entirely with soldiers and weapon masters.
There were only three women inside.
Me—
And two waitresses.
“So now I’m curious,” I said after finally receiving my cocktail—a drink I’d had to describe in painful detail first to the waitress and then to the bartender.
This place served nothing but beer and hard liquor.
“Do you bring girls here on dates too, or only to taverns like this?”
“I don’t need dates to get a beautiful girl beneath me,” Tarven replied with a wink before taking another sip from the enormous mug of beer in front of him.
I snorted.
“When exactly did you become this corrupted?”
“I'd call it personal growth.”
“Sure you would.”
Sometimes I honestly didn’t understand what I saw in him.
And even less why I was discussing topics like this with him.
“For someone who dreams of finding his soulmate and sealing an Eternity Union,” I said, slowly stirring my drink with the metal straw, “you behave surprisingly recklessly.”
I tilted my head.
“Or are you planning to find your destined one during a one-night stand?”
I smiled.
Hopefully convincingly.
Because pretending had always been one of my greatest talents.
“I’m sure I’ll recognize her instantly,” Tarven said easily.
“One look will be enough.”
I scoffed inwardly.
“I actually wanted to ask you about something else,” he continued.
This time, his gaze settled on me with complete seriousness.
It didn’t impress me.
So I only smiled wider and lifted my brows as if to say:
I’m listening.
“During training, you reacted strangely,” he said slowly.
“That’s how people behave when they’ve handled weapons before.”
The smile slowly disappeared from my face.
My fingers tightened around the glass, hoping he wouldn’t notice they had begun to tremble.
“And definitely not in a harmless way.”
I could feel his eyes on me.
But I couldn’t bring myself to meet them.
“Stasia... is there something I don't know?”
I stayed silent.
I needed to pull myself together.
To shove the memories back where they belonged.
“Stasia.”
His voice hardened.
I took a slow breath.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know, Tarven.”
I finally looked up at him.
“Everyone has a right to their secrets.
Don’t they?”
Illariana Arden’s POV
Our first stop brought us to an enormous stone formation resembling a cliff.
Its surface had been carved with countless scenes, as though the stone itself were telling a story.
The monument stood at the center of a lake, while thin streams of water flowed from cracks in the rock, making it seem as though it were filled from within.
The water shifted with every change of light—
From turquoise to emerald,
Then, from another angle, to a blue so deep it was almost black.
Bright yellow fish darted beneath the surface, their chaotic movements resembling fireworks underwater.
“This installation is dedicated to Ruel’s novel Sitarsis,” Airis explained.
“In Urpis, the title translates roughly as Living Decay.”
“And what's it about?” I asked, briefly glancing at him before returning my attention to the breathtaking monument.
“The fate of a boy named Wood was... complicated.”
Airis's voice grew quieter.
“He was born from decay itself—
A force tied to death.”
“He was given a choice.
Accept his nature...
Or become something he was never meant to be.”
“They told him not to fight who he was.
Not to long for life.
Not to reach for things beyond his nature.”
Airis’s gaze remained fixed on the stone.
“Because his essence was destruction.”
“But Wood refused to become the end of everything.”
“He wanted to bring joy.”
A faint smile touched Airis’s lips.
“And death rarely brings that.”
My eyes drifted back to the monument.
A hollow carved into the rock held something dark and rough.
And at its center—
A faint glow.
It resembled the silhouette of an unborn child.
The next carving showed a young boy surrounded by strange creatures.
His body was covered in soot.
Something beneath his skin glowed like embers refusing to die.
“In the end,” Airis continued,
“he chose to take the risk.”
“And after countless trials, he proved that decay isn't merely destruction.”
“It is the collapse of an old form—
One that can become either death...”
“Or new life.”
Silence settled between us.
The kind that feels complete rather than empty.
“This is my favorite novel,” Airis admitted quietly.
“And Wood is my favorite character.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“This installation surpassed everything I imagined.”
“You're right,” I murmured.
“It really is beautiful.”
Silence settled between us.
I found myself quietly drawing parallels between Airis and Wood.
People usually loved the characters they recognized themselves in.
Did Airis want to rebel against the system too?
To become something he wasn't supposed to be?
Or was I simply seeing what I wanted to see?
Maybe this was just another way for him to earn my trust.
“Come on,” Airis said, pulling me out of the spiral of my thoughts.
Without waiting for me, he started walking again.
And, without thinking, I followed.