The journey to Erin's shack had been grueling, the path winding through dense thickets and uneven terrain that seemed to stretch endlessly beneath the dimming sky.
Lila's legs burned with exhaustion, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she trudged behind Erin, who moved with the effortless familiarity of someone returning to a place etched into his bones.
Then—like a whisper of salvation—the scent reached her.
—Spiced honey cake.
The aroma curled through the air, rich and intoxicating, wrapping around her senses like a promise. It was warm, sweet, and laced with the faintest hint of cinnamon—so potent that Lila could almost taste it on her tongue.
Her stomach growled in response, but more than hunger, it was the sudden, overwhelming sense of home that made her heart clench.
Erin stopped before a weathered wooden door, its surface worn smooth by years of wind and rain. Without hesitation, he rapped his knuckles against it—three sharp, confident knocks.
The door slammed open.
Aria burst forward like a storm, her arms flying around Erin's neck before he could so much as blink. She clung to him, her grip fierce, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder.
"You're back," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion.
Erin's arms wrapped around her just as tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice rough. "I'm back."
Lila stood frozen, her cheeks flushing as she watched them. The way Aria held him—so desperate, so needy—sent a pang of longing through her chest. "I wish that were me." The thought came unbidden, and she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to study the worn wooden beams of the shack instead.
***
The inside was small but warm, the flickering light of a single oil lamp casting long shadows across the wooden table. Aria had set it with care—simple wooden plates, chipped but clean, and at the center, a golden-brown spiced honey cake, its surface glistening with a delicate glaze.
Lila's mouth watered.
They ate in comfortable silence at first, the only sounds the scrape of forks against plates and the occasional hum of satisfaction. But then Erin spoke, his voice soft with reverence.
"I missed this," he admitted, his eyes locked on Aria. "Missed you."
Aria smiled, her expression softening. "I know."
"I've been working hard," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "Training, —everything. I even fought a monster. I will make you proud Aria. I promise."
Aria reached across the table, her fingers brushing his. "Erin," she said gently, "I've always known you were strong."
The words settled over him like a benediction.
Then, as if struck by sudden realization, Erin leaned back, his lips quirking into a smirk. "Now I get why Lila likes this cake so much."
Lila huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she rolled her eyes. "Took you long enough to notice."
Erin chuckled, but then his expression sobered. He turned to Aria, his brow furrowing. "Wait—where'd you get the money for this? You're not… you're not hooking up with guys for coin, are you?"
Lila's fork clattered against her plate.
"Erin!" she snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief. "Not every girl is helpless enough to resort to that! Gods, learn to ask a question without sounding like a complete dolt!"
Erin blinked, then sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, grinning. "Right. Right. Sorry."
Aria laughed, the sound light and unbothered. "Relax little bro," she said, waving a hand. "I'm definitely not hooking up with anyone. But…" Her grin turned sly. "I did get the money from a couple of guys."
Erin's jaw dropped.
"A couple of—?!"
"Not like that," Aria cut in, rolling her eyes. Then her expression darkened. "Some men came by a while ago. They were looking for Dad."
A heavy silence fell.
Lila's breath caught.
"I told them he's dead," Aria continued, her voice ssteady
Erin's fists clenched.
"They saw my pendant," she went on, her fingers absently tracing the small, worn charm at her throat. "Offered me five coins for it." Her grip tightened. "I almost said yes. But then I remembered—this is all I have left of you and Mom. So I told them no."
Her eyes flashed.
"They didn't like that."
Lila's pulse spiked.
"They tried to take it by force," Aria said, her voice dropping to something low, dangerous. "But they were weak." A slow, fierce smile spread across her face. "I fought them off. Used my magic. They ran like cowards."
She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Left their sack of coin behind, though. A hundred coins. Been using it for food and For school."
Erin stared at her, his expression a mix of awe and pride. "Aria…"
Lila, meanwhile, was stunned.
—How… how is she just sitting here, smiling, after something like that? Her eyes darted around the shack—the flimsy door, the thin walls, the isolation. And she still lives here? Alone?
Aria caught her gaze and winked.
"Don't look so shocked," she teased. "I'm not completely defenseless."
Lila swallowed.
"No. No, you're not."
And for the first time, she wondered just how much she had underestimated Erin's sister.
Aria's golden eyes—warm as honey in the lamplight—flickered from Erin to Lila, her lips curling into a teasing grin. The air between them hummed with unspoken tension, thick enough to slice with a knife.
"Erin," she drawled, her voice laced with playful accusation, "you didn't introduce your girlfriend to me."
Lila's breath hitched.
"Tsk, tsk." Aria shook her head, clicking her tongue in mock disappointment. "That's not what the Veynes family is known for. What's next, huh? You leave home for one week, and already you've got a girl trailing after you?" Her grin widened, wicked. "Next visit, will you bring a child home?"
The image flashed in Lila's mind—Her holding a baby boy, Erin walking awkwardly behind her—and for a heartbeat, she almost smiled.
Then her gaze locked with Erin's.
And she exploded.
"THAT'S NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN!" she shrieked, slamming her palms onto the table hard enough to rattle the plates. "I'm just here for the cakes and nothing more! I am not his girlfriend! Not now, not ever!"
Her voice cracked on the last word, her face burning scarlet. She kept ranting, words tumbling out in a furious, flustered cascade—something about boundaries, professionalism, and how utterly ridiculous the very idea was—until finally, she sucked in a sharp breath and blurted out,
"I heard the sky in this part of the north has the most stars!"
Silence.
Erin stared at her, his expression a masterpiece of pure, uncomprehending confusion.
But Aria—Aria understood the assignment.
Her smile softened, turning knowing. "It's true," she said smoothly, as if Lila hadn't just detonated a verbal bomb. "At night, the sky here… it's like spilled diamonds. There's one star, especially—small, but brighter than all the others. Mom always called it the Guardian's Eye." She tilted her head, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you'd like, we could go stargazing tonight. Just us girls."
Lila's shoulders slumped in relief. "Yes," she breathed, perhaps a little too eagerly. "I'd love that."
And just like that, the tension dissolved—replaced by the easy, giggling chatter of two girls lost in their own world. They leaned in close, voices hushed, exchanging whispers about constellations, myths, and the best spots to lie back and watch the heavens. Aria's laughter was bright, melodic; Lila's, though hesitant at first, soon matched it in warmth.
Erin, meanwhile, looked like a man stranded in a foreign land.
"What… just happened?" he muttered, utterly lost.
Aria ignored him, her eyes twinkling as she turned the conversation back to the stars. "There's a legend," she said, tracing an invisible shape in the air, "that the Guardian's Eye is actually the spirit of a warrior who sacrificed herself to protect her loved ones. Now, she watches over the north—always shining, always waiting*."
Lila's breath caught. "That's… beautiful."
Aria winked. "Wait till you see it for yourself."
Then, as smoothly as she had steered them away, she shifted gears again. Her gaze sharpened, locking onto Erin. "So," she said, her tone light but her eyes unyielding, "what really brought you home? Everything alright with work?"
Erin stiffened.
Lila's smile vanished.
The air grew heavy.
"Everything's fine," Erin said too quickly, his voice carefully neutral. "Just… paying a visit."
Lila's nails dug into her palms. She couldn't take it.
"Erin," she snapped, her voice brittle. "Tell her."
Aria's brow furrowed. "Tell me what?"
Erin's jaw clenched. He hesitated, weighing his words like a man measuring poison.
Finally, he spoke.
"We're being sent south," he said, his voice low. "A special mission. We'll be gone… a year. Maybe more. But not more than two."
He stopped there, as if that were enough.
It wasn't.
Lila's hands trembled. "We might not make it back," she forced out, the words like shards of glass in her throat. "That's why our captain told us to go say our goodbyes."
A beat.
Then—
Aria's expression shattered.
Her golden eyes darkened, her lips parting in silent, stunned horror. For a heartbeat, she didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Then—
"No."
The word was a whip-crack, sharp and final.
"No, No, No" she repeated, her voice trembling with something raw, something furious. "You don't get to come home just to say goodbye."
Her hands slammed onto the table, rattling the dishes.
"You don't get to do that to me, Erin. Not again."
She stormed out of the shack.