Mikael’s parents moved to Quetta when he was five. He was the fourth of five brothers—the oldest six years older than him, the youngest two years younger. Until his mid-teens, there was hardly a day his mother didn’t have a dupatta tied around her head by afternoon; it supposedly helped with the headaches her sons managed to give her every single day. His father, a university lecturer, was a loving husband and father but worked long hours, so the children were closer to their mother. They learned early on, however, that going to her over petty fights only landed everyone in trouble. Most disagreements were settled without adult intervention. Tackles, punches, and kicks always ranked higher than words in the brothers’ conflict-resolution hierarchy. Being older helped and Mikael lacked there. The alternative was allies, but since everyone valued the cause more, alliances never lasted.

Mikael first met DevilPrincess in an online game. She was a force of nature. When she wasn’t running guns blazing through the map, she was flooding the message board with things he only kept in his thoughts. He’d never met a girl like her—not that he’d met many girls. An all-boys school made sure of that. He’d enjoyed teaming up with her so much that the next day he went online hoping she’ll join again. And sure enough, she was there.

Why this Pindi girl chose to join a server run by some Quetta schoolboys was a mystery—but why she stayed was obvious. Casanova96. Mikael enjoyed the unsolicited attention he got from Fia and for a time even fancied the idea of having a girlfriend, but he was only twelve, far too awkward to make a move. Luckily so, because the only reason that Pindi girl stayed on the Quetta server she randomly found was because no one hit on her. She never learned that it was because one lacked the courage, and the others were bound by bro code.

Mikael’s friends and brother teased him over her in the beginning. They just never said anything online. That would’ve been scandalous, if not dangerous. His friends would likely have been dealt with by his older brothers if they had, and his brothers had the fear of God instilled in them by their mother. They’d grown up listening to her threaten to break their legs and beat them if they ever went around teasing girls. It wasn’t clear whether she meant to use their legs to beat them or if the two were separate.

By the time the two turned sixteen, Fia was recognized by the brothers as Mikael’s crazy cyber sister. His mother knew of her and appreciated that Mikael had a female influence other than herself—blissfully unaware of her monthly crushes and unhealthy obsession with vampire lore.

When Mikael arrived in the Garden, he realized it was a lot easier to be friends with a girl when he couldn’t see her. It was the strangeness of it all; he’d simply never been in such close proximity to a young woman before. For the first few days, he struggled not to notice the swell of her breasts when she took her robe off, or the curve of her hips when she put it on. In the mornings, when they woke up in the same room and her bright round eyes softened as soon as they saw him, his heart went still for a moment. The mess of hair framing her face made him wonder if all women lacked grace in their comfort zone—and then the thought made his mouth feel dry. He was her comfort zone. 

Like before, the feelings lasted only a few days and soon he was only aware of his friend even when she held him close. He didn’t lie when he said her appearance couldn’t move him. It didn’t. He loved her, and though he had wondered if his love could be something more someday, it had never been more than an idle thought. It was enough to be her friend. She understood him, knew when to listen, when to back off and when to distract. She was everything good in the world.

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It was late afternoon on their tenth day in the forest and they were almost at the river, the end of the mapped region. They’d consistently camped during the night and the information from Art had proved useful in avoiding the most troublesome creatures. 

The Trench Forests were thick, the canopy filtering in ribbons of light to the forest floor. Many trees and shrubs were laden with flowers—sadly, too early for fruit. The forest floor was a mesh of roots with fern and grass growing between them. If it weren’t so dangerous, it could easily attract many spring lovers. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Fia said, adjusting her backpack. “We’re not getting any older.”  

Mikael threw up his arms, “Exactly! Not like we have kids waiting for us!”

“Fine. Let’s camp.” The sun was getting low anyway. They wouldn’t lose too much.

“How about here,” Mikael said, standing in a small clearing among the trees. “I can see the sky from here.” 

The space itself was just enough for a small fire and two tents around it. The sight of the blue sky from the small opening in the canopy calmed Fia’s eyes—and her soul. 

“It’s perfect!” said Fia.

He grinned. “Can I go for a spin?” 

“Yep. Bring back firewood.”

She watched him climb up a tree and fly off, then lay back against a root, staring into the canopy. The forest breathed around her—buzzing, chirping, alive. A breeze bristled through the leaves at the top of the trees. On the first days, she’d missed Noah and Akira constantly, but the forest had since eased out all stress. 

Mikael returned soon and Fia built a fire, while he did a last perimeter check and set up their tents for the night. Then she folded herself between the roots again, watching twilight fade while Mikael fidgeted beside her, trying to get comfortable. His wings made the forest floor impossible for him.

“I think there are other hunters a few miles behind us,” said Mikael. 

“How do you know?”

“I saw a bird with an arrow wound.” He shifted to one side. “I don’t know.” He shifted back. “Maybe it wasn’t.” 

“Stop that,” Fia groaned. “You look like a worm on fire.”

“I’m not built for the forest floor!”

Fia tossed both sleeping bags at him.

He rolled them out and sprawled across them, limbs and wings spread out like a dead fly. “Much better.”

“Seedchurns again?” she asked.

Mikael brightened. “I caught a fish.”

She looked around. “But you didn’t bring a fish.”

“Ah, wait.” He hurried to the woodpile and rummaged through it. “Found it!” He held up a fish the length of his forearm. “It was slippery, so I skewered it on a branch. Then forgot.”

Fia chuckled. It was too small, but it turned out to be tasty, even if they had to top up with seedchurns. 

Mikael nudged the fire with a stick. “If we don’t find a way home, I think I’ll find a girl and settle in the Five Sisters.”

“You like it that much?” Fia said pouring out tea into cups.

“I love it. Even this forest feels like a fairytale.”

Fia smiled. “I’d pick the Pillars. Mountains, lakes—peace.”

“There’s no life in the Pillars. Closed half the year, barely a few hundred people.”

“I like small towns.”

He laughed. “You like the idea of them. You’d be bored in months.”

She frowned, then went in thought. “Settling down… I didn’t expect that.”

“Why not? I think it’s time I made some lucky woman very happy.” He smirked.

Fia’s face lit up. “Mikael, how cool would it be if you flew off with her at the end of the wedding!” 

Mikael chortled. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Oh, come on! I’ll arrange fireworks!”

“Yes, and shoot down the bride and groom. Great honeymoon.”

“Yes!” Fia laughed. 

He chuckled. “No. Quiet wedding. No drama. I’ll carry her into the sky when everyone’s gone.”

Fia shrieked. “You are such a romantic!”

He sighed. “What’s the use? Haven’t found anyone to appreciate it.”

“What if she can fly too?”

“Then I’ll race her.”

“What if she’s faster?”

“Then I’ll lose happily for the rest of my life. Maybe she’ll treat me better for it, like you do when I struggle to walk through the forest.” He grinned. 

Fia’s mouth shot open and close a few times. “I know you can fly over the forest faster than me. You don’t have to rub it in.”

Mikael laughed incredulously. “I wasn’t. I like walking with you.”

Fia rolled her eyes and passed him the tea. He cupped it with both hands, singing a tune and tapping the rim. 

“What language is that?” she asked. 

He only smiled and kept singing. He was fluent in too many tongues—Hindko, Pashto, Urdu, English, bits of Balochi and Persian.

“It’s beautiful,” Fia said.

“You want to learn it?”

“Sure.”

“You must recognize some words,” he asked, expectantly.

“I do. Is it Persian?” she said.

Mikael smiled, then nodded. “I can write it down for you phonetically. We can sing together.”

He took a paper and pen from Fia’s satchel and wrote in Garden characters. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to write in Urdu?” she said. The language resembled Urdu—her mother tongue. 

“This is better.” He swallowed. He looked sad.  

“What does it mean?” Fia asked. 

The grin returned. “You don’t want to know.”

“Come on, tell me!” 

“It’s about a man in an existential crisis, wondering if he really is a man or something else.”

“That’s not that bad,” Fia said. 

“No, it’s not. I was just messing with you.”

“Does it remind you of someone?” 

He looked up at her. “Yes.” He tapped her nose with the pen. “You.”

Fia’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell does it mean? Are you making fun of me?”

Mikael fell back laughing. 

She raised her finger. “Mikael, if you trick me into swearing at myself, I will make you pay.”

Mikael laughed harder as he sat back up, wiping tears from his eyes. He never teared up when laughing.

“Here,” He handed her the paper. “I’ll add the translation later.” 

They sang it three times. When they finished, Mikael didn’t look sad anymore.

He picked up a stick and pushed a barely kindled piece of wood that had rolled away back into the fire. 

“Haha, burn sucker,” Fia said. “You thought you got away!” 

Mikael’s face fell. “I feel terrible now,” he said in a small voice. 

Fia burst out laughing. “It’s a piece of wood!”

“Yes, but, I never thought of it like that.” 

“Aww, you poor thing.” She decided not to mention the fish they ate. “We should sleep.” 

Mikael pulled out her sleeping bag from under him. “Go on; I’ll put out the fire.”

“You do that. Maybe there’s still some hope for your wooden friend.”

He groaned, and Fia chuckled. 

She hugged her sleeping bag and searched his face for more. “You know you can talk to me if something’s up?”  

“Yep, and I know you won’t make me if I don’t want to.” 

“Ooh, clever boy!”

He sighed. “I just want to go home. But this is fun; let’s not ruin it.”

Fia nudged his head away with the tip of a finger; he tilted away from her and bounced back like a roly-poly. She smiled, and Mikael smiled back, eyes like crescents. 

The fire was still burning when she drifted off and dreamed of a grey haze that swallowed everything.