“We owe you our lives,” Xeni says, face still pointed at the ground, before lifting it to meet Sovran’s gaze.
That same fire burns in Sovran's golden eyes, but there’s a hint of something affectionate as a tiny smile flits over his lips.
“Without you, those tunnels would’ve become our tomb,” Xeni continues. “My father would’ve died, yes, but we never would have escaped. Bash would…”
Xeni trails off, then slips Sovran a piece of folded paper.
“That is a map… a rough one,” he admits with a self-deprecating laugh, “but it shows where our village is located. Memorize it and destroy it, please, because I cannot risk the lives of my friends who are sheltered there. But if the time comes that I can ever be of help to you, I am your servant. I owe you a debt that I fear can never be repaid.”
Sovran clasps Xeni's shoulder, and Xeni’s eye flares as Sovran dips his head in return.
“Your actions have transformed the future, Xenesis. Your father was a plague for hundreds of years. He changed the course of history for both his world and this one. You were the only one who could stop him. If there is a debt between us, it is I who owe you my gratitude.”
Xeni pulls his lips into a tight line as he tries to keep his composure and gives another small nod. “My offer remains, all the same.”
“I believe we will meet again,” Sovran says, giving Xeni’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing him. “And when that day comes, I will be glad to call you friend.”
Xeni
Ourseriesofgoodbyestakes longer than expected. There are warm hugs from Chakri, firm handshakes from Johannes, and more cryptic farewells from Sovran. Once everyone is satisfied, we hit the road.
The SUV bumps and bounces down the hidden roadway that winds away from the camouflaged motel. It travels for miles through thin sections of trees that offer fleeting glimpses of the wasteland beyond, and the barren soil looks particularly unforgiving when framed by the green. Dirt trails and remnants of gravel roads eventually give way to battered asphalt. It’s cracked and weathered but still serviceable, and we head north with a sense of cautious optimism.
The drive is uneventful, the vast emptiness around us both eerie and liberating after the constant threat of the city. Ego and Sakane have their faces plastered to the windows, commentingon every fresh sight we pass—the rolling hills in the distance, clusters of resilient trees brushing against the horizon, and the occasional abandoned structures half-swallowed by dirt.
Cato is more stoic, sitting between them with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed ahead as if daring the world to throw something at us. A few times I catch him staring at me in the rearview mirror, but he only ever glances away with a huff. The tension between us is still simmering but, for now, it remains unspoken.
We stop at nightfall and park in a shallow valley not far off the road. Rocky outcrops provide enough cover in the darkness to feel marginally secure, though Cato insists on staying up to keep watch. His favorite knife glints on his hip as he settles on a higher vantage point.
Bash and I stretch out on the ground with a blanket beneath us, the cool night air carrying the faint scent of dry earth and distant rain that never quite reaches us. We don’t sleep right away, though.
My mind spins, thinking of everything that’s happened since I left the village weeks ago, and what changes might wait for me there. At this point, I’ve been gone longer than any of us planned for. I wonder what assumptions the others have made about my absence.
Do they think I’ve been captured? Killed?
Do any of them care?
The thought pinches my chest with an ache of isolation too ingrained to be left behind. I turn to nuzzle into Bash, inhaling his familiar scent and allowing it to ground me.
“We should’ve bought you more soap,” I say into his chest, the words slipping out without preface.
“What?” he asks with a quiet laugh, pulling back to look at me in the dim starlight.
“Those soaps you love so much. We won’t be able to get them anymore.”
“Damn, you’re right. Better just go back and meet my fate with the army so I can smell good.”
“You’re being an ass,” I point out with a tiny smile.
He chuckles and pulls me in for a lingering kiss. “Seems the situation warrants it,” he teases, then cups my head and holds me against him. “You okay? Your mind is making a lot of noise tonight.”
“Just… processing.”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly as he runs a palm over my hair. “I get that.”
“It must be so weird for you to be out of the city like this. You never really spent any time out here.”
“No, I didn't,” he agrees. “I was only out here when I was being moved between the cities and the base. It’s quiet. You can stop and listen, and the only things you hear are the wind blowing or some birds in the distance. There’s always been something making noise in my life. People walking and talking, or guards on patrol. Cars passing and doorbells ringing. The silence is…”
