What followed was a blur in Fia’s memory. The three sketches were taken for burning. Artyom swore he’d drawn Mikael from imagination, and Fia believed him. Dara and Pekka didn’t.

Afterwards, she sat in the kitchen with Dara for a long time. He was comforting as always, saying the right things, getting away with the terrible tea he brewed with self-deprecating humour that somehow elevated him more—offering just enough distraction to let her breathe again. But when he turned away, she imagined the wings hidden under his robe—wings that had carried Mikael to safety in what couldn’t have been more than a few hours. If only she were Gifted, everything would be different.

He caught her eye, and she forced a smile. He smiled back—warm, unguarded, not that anxious half-smile that reminded her she had no business being in the forest, that she’d overestimated herself and led Mikael to his death. She was grateful for it. She couldn’t take another one of those right now.

In the next room Pekka held up one of Artyom’s sketches—a man frozen mid-impalement. “Draw another one of these,” he said monotonically, “and I’ll make you wish this had been you the day you arrived.” 

Artyom went white. 

“Now listen carefully. After she left your inn, you never saw Fia again. There was no rescue. No cottage. No us. Clear?”

Artyom nodded. He left the next morning after a brief, mute goodbye to Fia and did not stay for the funeral. 

Fia chose to bury Mikael in the Five Sisters. Dara said the funeral prayers, and Mikael was laid to rest in a small meadow near the cottage, among a sea of white flowers in bloom.

Akira wept quietly by the grave, sitting beside Fia, whose eyes had long since run dry. 

Noah was in a heap on Fia’s other side. “How could this happen? It’s only been two months.” He wept. “I told you Trench Forest was dangerous. You should’ve listened.”

Fia knew he was talking to Mikael, but it hardly mattered.

“How could you say that now?” she said. “Where even were you for the past two months?”

Noah raised his head. “Fia…” 

She shoved him. “Where the hell were you? When we needed you! Where the fuck were you then?”

Her raised voice drew Raija, Pekka, and Dara, who stood a short distance away.

Noah wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “Don’t put this on me. I tried to stop him.”

“You should’ve supported him!” snapped Fia. “Akira didn’t go in the Forest either, yet she watched out for us. What about you, Noah!? His confidant, the one even I couldn’t live up to, where the fuck were you!?” 

“I was cleaning up the mess he left behind,” Noah ground out, “the mess he was in because of you!” 

“Because of me? He trusted you over me and you abandoned him!” 

“I went to Abraha so he wouldn’t stop protecting you!” 

Fia blinked. “What?”

“How could you be so blind? You were surrounded by people in your first year, the joint arrival that came after centuries. Didn’t you ever wonder where they all went?” 

Of course, she’d thought about it. But she and Mikael figured the Capital was too big, that nobody there knew or cared what they were. 

“Mikael joined Abraha’s faction,” said Noah. “It’s how he got the job, the guarantee for the apartment. A lifetime of doing his bidding in exchange for protection.”

Fia shook her head. “He would’ve told me; you’re lying.” 

Noah let out a dry laugh. “I always thought Mikael underestimated you, but he was right. You’re a child, an idiot who lives in her own fantasy!”

“Noah,” Dara said. “Watch yourself.”

Noah scoffed. “Yes! Please, come shield her from the truth. Become her protector now that she’s managed to kill the last one.” 

“Noah!” said Dara.

“Do you know you’re the primary?” Noah said to Fia. 

Fia stared blankly at him. 

“How could you not? You never understood any language he spoke to you except Garden tongue. How is that possible when you shared two languages with him. You don’t remember your mother tongue! I figured it out in under a month. Why didn’t you?”

“What are you saying? What’s a primary?” 

“Fia, why?! Why can’t you just for a second think about someone other than yourself?!” 

“What’s a primary?” Fia asked again. She staggered towards Dara. “What’s a primary? What is he talking about?”

“I… I don’t know,” he said honestly. 

She grabbed Pekka’s arm. “What’s a primary, Pekka? You must know.”

Pekka answered after a beat. “Joint arrivals have a primary and a secondary. Primaries lose a part of their memories in the migration. Secondaries have a strong, clear mind.”

“Why? Why are the ones with worse memories called primaries?” 

Pekka said nothing.  

“Tell me, please!” 

“Fia,” said Raija, “even the scholars don’t know much about joint arrivals. These are just old texts; we don’t know their origins.”

“Secondaries have stronger minds and weaker bodies,” said Noah. 

Raija pursed her lips. She pitied her, and it was plain on her face. Fia lowered her gaze.  

“He drew his crackling from you,” said Noah. “He was created from you. He wouldn’t be here if not for you. You dragged him here, and you did it at the cost of your own mind!” 

One of the joint arrival pulled the other; she’d considered it before, even congratulated herself for not feeling any resentment towards Mikael for it. He was the Gifted one, after all. If anyone had more agency, it had to be him. How could she, with no gifts at all, be the one to drag him here. 

“Coming here isn’t a choice for any of us,” Pekka said. 

Noah laughed. “You too, Pekka?” 

Fia sank to her knees. 

“That’s enough,” Dara said. He knelt beside Fia and put a hand on her shoulder. She held his hand then slipped it off and stood up. Dara curled his fingers into his empty palm.

Fia knelt in front of Noah and saw her exhaustion reflected back in his eyes. “Where were you?” she asked quietly.

“I took the money back to Abraha” he said, “so he would stop the distribution of the tea and keep protecting you two.” 

So, Mikael never had the money, and he didn’t tell her. Fia smiled, sardonic. “Did you tell Abraha we picked the tea?” 

“He already knew. I got his message the moment I reached the Capital.”

“You couldn’t convince him?”

“I did once I reached him. News of the tea and Mikael’s defection had already spread. I was too late.” His voice trailed off. 

“Why didn’t you come back?” 

“He sent me on a wild-goose chase hunting traders through the Dry Lands. He was angry and he couldn’t get to—” 

Mikael.

Fresh tears rolled down Noah’s cheeks.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” said Fia. “Why didn’t you? Do you really think so little of me?” 

Noah shook his head, guilt twisting his face. “Fia, I didn’t mean—Of course, I don’t.” He dragged a hand down his face.“ He said he had to meet Abraha’s scholars and they promised not to drag you in, too, but he planned to tell you. I don’t know why he couldn’t. I—” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell. But I realized it had gone too far, then I tried.” His voice cracked. “And where’d that put me?”

“On the floor.”

Noah nodded, a small curve in the corner of his lip. “On the floor.” 

“With a black eye.”

“A bruised cheek,” he corrected.

Fia laughed dryly. He smiled and then broke into tears. 

She hugged him. “I shouldn’t have pushed him so hard.”  

“I should’ve told you sooner.”

Fia closed her eyes and held him tighter. Akira embraced them both, sobbing. Fia’s eyes stayed dry, though her heart was in a thousand shards. She was comforting people whose grief couldn’t touch hers. She would never recover from this. Nothing would ever be the same. She had to leave—far from all of them. They would never understand.

Raija left that afternoon. Fia thanked her and bid her farewell. Life had to go on; it would go on—for everyone, except her.

---

Fia breathed in the fresh morning air and still felt suffocated. Noah and Akira sat on either side of her on the wooden bench. The backyard had three tree stumps and a depressed clearing that had likely been a vegetable patch at some point. The benches were near the kitchen door; garden tools—convenient weapons—lined the wall. 

Fia sipped her tea. It felt like drowning. 

“You can’t just leave,” Akira said. “Say something, Noah.”

“Fia, I said I’m sorry,” Noah said. “Why won’t you believe it?” 

“I do,” Fia said. “This isn’t about you.” She’d already packed food and supplies into her robe when she woke up. But she couldn’t leave without an explanation. She was indebted. Even if it felt like she had nothing left to be grateful for.  

Dara and Pekka stepped out, chewing on dried meat and holding cups. There was another bench, but fortunately, the men moved on to the farthest tree stump, by the gnarly fence. 

“We have to stay together,” said Akira. “Take us with you.”

“I don’t want to,” Fia said. 

Noah shifted. “Take Akira. I’ll leave on my own.”

Fia groaned. “Noahhh, I’m really not mad at you. I just need time. On my own.”

“You’re not safe on your own,” said Noah. 

Fia chuckled. “I’m not that conspicuous without a purple-winged bullseye.” Neither of the other two found it funny. She scoffed. “Can no one trust me?” 

That landed nicely. Noah and Akira exchanged a quiet look. 

“I’ll write,” Fia said. “Every month.” 

“Every week,” said Akira. 

“Every month.” Fia swirled the cup. “Did you find my satchel at the camp?” 

“No, just the weapons and backpacks.” 

“You’ll still follow the soul map?” Noah asked. 

“No,” Fia said. “It just had something Mikael wrote for me.” 

They all went quiet. Fia looked across the yard at the two men. Dara stood with his back to them.

Fia drew a shallow breath and stood. “I should tell them, too.”

Pekka’s gaze shifted to her as she walked over, and Dara turned. Noah and Akira joined her.

“I’m leaving soon,” Fia said. “I don’t know how or if I can ever pay back your kindness.”

Dara blinked, words seemingly caught in his throat.

“You’re welcome,” Pekka said after a beat.

“Yes, of course,” Dara followed, dipping his head. “Don’t mention it again.” He held out his hand to Noah. “I wish you safe travels.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” said Noah. 

Dara paused, surprised. His gaze shifted to Fia, then to Akira. He smiled and opened his mouth to speak. 

“Me neither,” said Akira. “I’ll leave later with Noah.” 

Fia held her humourless smile as realization stiffened Dara’s face. He said nothing, only gave Pekka a sidelong glance. 

“You’re leaving on your own,” Pekka said. His calm expression was a welcome contrast.

Fia nodded. “Yep. I needed some time. But I’ll be okay. I’ve discussed it with Akira and Noah already.” 

“You can not go off on your own,” Dara said, shedding his restraint.

Fia smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Dara. I’ll be careful.”

“Hold it off,” he said. “Think it through.” 

“I’ve been doing that for days.” She broke into a grin. “Rest easy; I promise I won’t need another rescue any time soon.”

Dara wasn’t amused. “You’re still grieving. If you won’t accept my help, at least take it from your friends.” 

Fia’s jaw clenched. “I did accept your help, Dara. You’re overthinking.” 

“Don’t be reckless, Fia! You can’t even walk straight.” 

Noah and Akira’s gaze dropped to Fia’s leg. They knew she’d broken her ankle, but neither had noticed the limp that she’d gone to lengths to conceal. 

Fia’s eyes turned cold. “I think you’ve misunderstood the nature of our relationship, Dara.” 

Restraint flickered across his face. “I’m sorry. I only speak out of concern.”

“Noted. But I have friends for that.” 

“And you refuse to listen to them.”

“So you thought I’d listen to you—over them?” 

“No. I would never assume—” 

“But you did.” When she managed a moment of calm, Fia felt she had to leave to spare everyone her misery. Most times, the calm wasn’t there, and she just felt like an unbaked clay doll crumbling away in loud, pouring rain. Her safe space was gone. Her parents, her sisters, Mikael, the people who gave her the confidence to be the force of nature she was, were all gone. All she saw in Noah and Akira now was a reminder that Mikael couldn’t trust her and that she had become the end of him. She wasn’t going to crumble in front of them.

Dara’s gaze didn’t falter, and suddenly it felt like her head was filled with a noise so loud that it drowned all coherent thoughts except one: He won’t let me leave! It took everything to keep her body from shaking.

She didn’t even notice her own voice rising. “I am grateful for everything you’ve done, and I hope I can pay you back someday, but did you think this gives you some kind of control over me?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course not—” 

“Or did you think because I took your advice for the choice of a sword six years ago, I would nod my head and listen to everything you had to say?” 

He drew back a fraction, gaze flickering.

She let out a sharp, cruel laugh. “You read too much into some idle fun, Dara Shikoh. You can’t seriously believe you’re all that?”

“Fia, please, stop.”

“You’ve overstepped! You have no say! I’m done with your presumptuous attitude and the nerve—telling me what I can and cannot do.”

“Fia, please—”

”Stick to the weapons, Dara! It’s where you shine. Stay out of my life!”  

He stared at her, lips parted. Her words seemed to echo in the damning silence. or perhaps in his stricken eyes.  

“Goodbye, Fia,” said Pekka. “We’ll see you later, in better times.” 

Fia turned to him. “Goodbye, Pekka, and thank you.”

Pekka nodded.

She looked back at Dara. His eyes were relaxed with no hint of emotion anymore. “Goodbye, Dara,” she said. 

“Goodbye,” he said, and she walked away.