The track through the forest is harder than she imagines.  

The ground is soft and muddy from the thunderstorm earlier making sink holes everywhere. The low hanging branches scrape her every second step she takes. Around her, huge bugs are buzzing in the air, stinging her relentlessly and sometimes, a centipede even crawls up her leg, making her jump and scream like a mad woman in a frenzied panic. This is exhausting. This is very exhausting. If only she still had her wings. Not to mention, Soril travels quickly. Agilely skipping rock to rock along the running river that they’ve been following and she’s breathless just trying to catch up. And when they are finally forced to cross it, she barely manages to crawl herself onto the bank without getting swept away by the rushing currents. Then she encounters another problem as she gets up, she’s gotten leeches stuck all over her. At that, Soril finally slows down and suggests,  

“Let’s take a short break.” he gestures her to sit at a fallen tree trunk before kneeling between her knees,  

“Lift your clothes up.” huh. That’s sudden. Well. She certainly didn’t expect that,  

“What here? No. You’re going to give me splinters.” but he’s just pulling a dagger out. Expressionlessly blinking. Once, twice, before he realizes what she misunderstood and corrects,  

“I’m just going to cut the leeches off you. You’re going to pass out again from blood loss otherwise.” oh. Right. Of course. She quickly abides, scrunching the fabric to her hips but she retorts nevertheless,  

“My point still stands though. The bark is splintery.”  

“I’ll be careful then.” he says perching her leg on his lap, and she’s surprised he means it. He does have a gentle side to him. Despite his palm is coarse, his fingers feel warm, and his touch is delicate. But she doesn’t stick her gaze long to watch him peel the worms from her calves and thighs. They’re gross looking. Glossy black and squirming. So instead, she distracts herself with his face. Studying it as he works.  

Why does he always wear such a serious expression? His features are sharp, but his lashes are pretty. White and fluttery, casting a shadow on his cheek bones. The light is making a halo in his hair. It looks soft. Oh. It is soft. She weaves the strands between her fingers. It glisters like silk under the sun. He reminds her of a cat. Actually. Doesn’t his personality resemble a cat too? A soft, white furred, blue-eyed cat. Cautious, meticulous, and fiercely independent. Yeah. She giggles. She can totally see it. He bats his gaze up at her, snapping her out of her reverie, 

“What are you doing?” to make her realize, she’s unintentionally petting him. She immediately jolts away, pushes the blame,  

“Bathory made me do it.” Uh-uh. Don’t drag me into this. That’s on you sis. That’s all on you. I did absolutely nothing. Didn’t even say a word. Nada. Nothing.  

“Right.” he changes the topic, getting up,  

“Anyway. It's done. The bleeding isn’t going to stop for a while because of the anti-coagulants, but I wrapped it up. So, it should be fine. Try not to scratch at it. Let’s keep moving.” She looks down at herself. There’re more cloth strips, remnants of his ripped-up scarf, around her now. Bandaged like a mummy. She really is beat up. The tiny bits of exposed skin she has left are all bruised purple, covered in dirt and soot. She badly needs a shower. Still, she reminds herself to say,  

“Thank you.” but he’s already disappearing behind a tree line. Hurriedly, she picks herself back up to run after. They walk for another good few hours. The uphill climbs are her hardest battles, but she likes sliding back downhill. She’s gradually getting accommodated. Now she’s actively able to avoid sinkholes, and she doesn’t freak out at every bug. At this point, she thinks she’s seen them all.  

Before she realizes it, the skies begin to darken and it’s gradually getting harder to see what’s ahead. They come to a stop, by a stream, gradient cascading into tiered ponds, surrounded by boulders of varying sizes. The air here smells of sulfur. The water seems to be smoking. Could this be, her eyes light up, 

“A natural hot spring?” she asks as Soril gathers twigs to make a campfire.  

“Yep. We’re at the foot of a volcano. The ones further up are too hot to bath in, but this one should be alrigh-” he couldn’t even finish that sentence before she excitedly kicks her clothes off on the ground to cannon ball in. Making a huge splash as she landed. Ah. That was a bad idea. Everything stings. Her back hurts. The cuts are opening. The gaping hole in her shoulder that was finally scabbing starts bleeding again. She shivers at the pain. Then the sound of his scoff makes her snap her head over her shoulder to begrudge,  

“Stop laughing at me, sadistic prick.” He’s gotten the fire going already. So, now he’s kicking dead leaves into a pile, seemingly to make a bed,  

“If you don’t want to be laughed at, then stop acting like a child.” She can’t help it, there are no hot springs in heaven, and she’s only seen it through the looking well. And now that the pain has subsided, it’s every bit warm and relaxing as she imagines it to be. She retorts, folding her arm over a rock to rest her chin,  

“You can simply choose to not look.”  

“Too late.” 

“So, you’re not going to give me a compliment or two? I complimented you.”  

“What do you want to hear?” he expressionlessly gives her a sarcastic thumbs up, “nice tits?” 

“Why thank you, good sir.” that does make him chuckle,  

“You know. You’re perhaps the most estranged woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Is that even a compliment?” 

“Sure. Take it that way if it makes you happy.” yeah. That wasn’t a compliment. But she doesn’t retaliate anymore. She likes to see him smile so light-heartedly. It’s quite precious. So, she doesn’t want to ruin the moment.    

She stays in the hot spring whilst Soril disappears into the forests, coming back shortly after with two rabbits. Held by the ears, struggling in his hand. Oh! They’re so adorable. Soft white fur, bright glassy eyes. Then he pulls out a dagger. Shit. What is he doing? A quick swipe of his hand and the twisting animals fall limp. White fur completely dyed red, dripping into a puddle on the ground.  

She’ll rather not witness the rest of the gruesome preparation process, so she’s averted her gaze. This time, towards the sunset above her. The sky is a deep shade of vermillion. The stars are starting to peek. The moon’s blocked by the tree line so she can’t see it. The birds are returning home. Cawing in the sky. It makes her realize; this world can be beautiful too. And she solemnly makes a promise to herself. One day. She’s going to make sure everyone in Astoran can enjoy this serenity. Splashing water on her face. She hypes herself up. For that to happen. She’ll work hard.  

Afterwards. She finally gets out when her fingertips is wrinkling and she’s feeling dizzy from all the heat. Once she gets dressed, she joins him for dinner by the campfire. The rabbits are unseasoned. The meat is tougher compared to fish. But her hunger demands her to ravenously devour everything to the bone. It’s something she notices about the mortal body. Food is mandatory otherwise they lose strength and sleep isn’t just an optional thing to pass time. She understood this theoretically from observing them for so long, though experiencing it herself is completely new. As she lies herself down flat onto the leaf bed Soril made, she thinks, troublesome as it is, she kind of likes the feeling of being bloated and cozy.  

But out of everything, it’s the night skies that fascinate her most. Now that she has a moment to appreciate it. She excitedly pats the spot beside her to invite him to join her. Pointing at the stars after he does, 

“Is that the milky way?” splattering across the heavens like little gems. He doesn’t get her intrigue though,  

“What’s so special about it?”  

“Everything!” she declares, “we don’t have nights in Heaven. It’s always bright and sunny.”  

“Is that so?” he doesn’t sound entirely convinced but he entertains her conversations nonetheless, “How’s heaven like?”  

“Everything is made of marble, clouds and diamonds. It’s kind of boring and monotonous honestly. Just lots of white and gold everywhere. We don’t have green plants, red sunsets, grey rocks or brown dirt.” 

“And... people are meant to want to go to this place for the rest of eternity? For an Angel. You’re not selling it here.” 

“No silly. Souls won’t stay there. They just get sorted there. If you’re a bad person who has done lots of bad things, you’ll be condemned to hell to be punished. Otherwise, you’ll just get reincarnated into the next life. And if you’re a really good person, you can choose to become an Angel and stay with God.” 

“Wouldn’t that mean you were once a really good person?” she smiles,   

“I probably was!”  

“I don’t see it.” he receives a shoulder punch for that, smug bastard doesn’t even flinch, “exactly my point.” but he asks regardless,  

“What good deeds did you exactly do?”  

“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything from my mortal life. We’re not meant to remember. I don’t even know if I came from the same realm as you.” 

“You’re telling me there are alternate realms out there?”  

“Of course! Thousands, no, millions. More than you can count. Some of them have magic and people with animal ears, others with big metal hovering things and tentacly creatures. I oversaw this one.”  

“Right. That’s why this world has death and war.”  

“Don’t remind me.” she realizes she’s been talking about herself for awhile so she asks in return,  

“What about you? Is there anything that fascinates you, or something you really want to see?”   

“People with animal ears for one. Or those big metal hovering things.” he replies sarcastically, before taking a few moments to contemplate and answering her seriously,  

“And I suppose... The ocean as well.” 

“You haven’t seen an ocean?”  

“No. Astia is completely land locked. We don’t have oceans here.”  

“Want to go see it together? I haven’t seen an ocean in person either! Maybe, after I stop this war. Wait, no. Even better. When I get my wings back, I’ll fly you over it.” that makes him go silent. She perches herself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s chuckling under his breath, trying to hold back his laughter, before he bursts, 

“You really are strange.” wiping a tear drop from the corner of his eyes, “but sure. Fly me over the ocean. I’ll take your word for it.”  

“You don’t believe me do you!” she starts impishly punching him again, “watch me drop you right in the middle.” he catches her wrist this time,  

“I’m still injured.” he isn’t using any strength so she’s able to push against him, retaliating the play fight,  

“What kind of sadistic angel hits an injured man.” He resists her. Swatting her arm back and forth like a cat to a string toy each time she attempts to jab his stomach. And when she finally lands a hit, it makes her realize, he’s ticklish. It’s quite endearing. She gets persistent. He turns on a side. Seizes her waist. Fights back. Crap. She’s ticklish too. And he’s too strong for her to pry his arms away.  

They tussled for a while before she exhausts herself and admits defeat,  

“Okay. Okay. You win. I surrender.” to finally make him stop. He smiles victoriously. So, he’s able to express such child-like joy too huh, she thinks as she rolls on her back. Sighing at the glistering stars above them. The white noise of crackling campfire and breeze rustled leaves is making her sluggish,  

“I’m so tired.” she yawns softly. And she couldn’t help but to remark, how gentle he sounds when he replies,  

“Go to sleep then. Good night, Lumeria.” she flutters her eyes shut,  

“Good night, Soril.” This is so peaceful. She wishes she can hold on to it.