A while had gone by since the dragon's ashes had drifted into the air. As soon as they had stepped out of the dungeon, the green gate had shuddered and snapped closed — like a giant exhaling its final breath.
Now, the dungeon was far behind. Ren and Vaspera sat in a carriage bound for the capital, the wheels quietly thudding against the road.
Dust still clung to Ren's clothes, and dried blood marked the edges of his sleeves, but he sat close beside Vaspera, hands lifted toward her injured shoulder.
A faint green glow shimmered around his fingers, threads of mana spiraling gently toward her like soft ribbons. Vaspera's body picked up the same light, but she kept her gaze anywhere except on him — the road ahead, the carriage wall, even the passing trees. Anywhere but Ren.
A sharp cough broke the rhythm.
"…kh—!"
Blood dotted Ren's lips and dripped from his nose. Vaspera's head snapped toward him instantly, alarm cutting through her face.
"Ren! You should stop. You're pushing yourself."
"N-No… I can at least do this—" Another cough, harsher this time, stained his sleeve.
That was enough for her.
Vaspera grabbed his wrist. Her touch was firm, warm. The green glow flickered once… then vanished entirely.
"I said stop." Her voice softened, just barely. "Right now."
Their eyes met — too close, too intense for either of them to pretend it meant nothing. For a moment, Ren forgot how to breathe. For a moment, Vaspera forgot to look away.
Then she released him as if the contact burned.
Both shifted back in their seats, turning toward opposite windows. The silence that settled between them wasn't cold — it was heavy, full of unspoken things neither dared to acknowledge.
By the time the capital's walls appeared in the distance, the awkwardness inside the carriage felt heavier than the dragon she had fought in the dungeon.
---
A Few Days After the Raid...
Afternoon sunlight dappled through the branches of the cherry tree in Vaspera's backyard. Pink petals drifted lazily around her as she sat beneath the shade, posture perfect, a book resting on her lap.
"Madam," Ren called her.
"Mm?" Vaspera didn't look up.
"I was thinking… maybe I could make something good for dinner tonight."
Her eyes shifted sharply toward him. Arms crossed.
"You need to control your taste buds," she said. "You are not making anything that isn't bread."
"But, madam… please?"
His expression softened — wide eyes, slightly tilted brows, lips pressed in a hopeful line. The kind of face that said I am begging for my life, innocent and dramatic at the same time.
Vaspera's eye twitched.
"…Fine. But just for today."
Ren's eyes lit up like he had been handed a treasure. "Thank you! Thank you so, so much!"
He spun around — then halted. "Um… but we're missing some ingredients. So… can I go to the market? Please?"
Another pleading look.
Vaspera sighed, shoulders dropping.
"Alright. Do whatever you want."
"Thank you!" He beamed, grabbed a small bag, and rushed out.
The capital streets buzzed with chatter the moment Ren stepped onto the road. He kept his head down, hood slightly forward, pretending not to hear the curious whispers that still followed him after the raid.
He stopped at a small vegetable stall built from uneven planks. Behind the counter, the shopkeeper — round, bald, and sporting a stubborn patch of unshaved beard — waved at him.
"Ah, Ren! Been a while."
Ren didn't lift his head. "…Good afternoon."
The shopkeeper blinked, then leaned forward slightly.
"Something wrong? You look like someone stole your food."
Ren shook his head. "No. I just… need tomatoes."
"That's it?" The man scratched his beard, still watching Ren's face.
"You sure you're alright?"
"Yes." A small pause. "I'm fine. Really."
The shopkeeper exhaled softly, deciding not to push him.
"Alright then. Hand over your bag. I'll pick out the freshest ones."
Ren passed it to him and waited quietly, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. But the peace lasted only a second before a pair of men stopped behind him.
Their voices were too close — too loud to ignore.
"Hey, you hear about the second dungeon raid?"
"Yeah. That Witch was involved in that raid, wasn't she?"
"That's what they're saying."
A scoff. "They also claim there was a dragon there. Right. As if."
"What about the knights? They confirmed it."
"Please. They were probably scared she'd roast them alive if they called her a liar."
Another laugh. "Nah, man. Dragons? Angels? That stuff's bedtime story nonsense."
Ren's hands froze, their chatter sinking into him.
The shopkeeper looked up from the tomatoes, noticing the way the boy's shoulders tightened — the way his breath hitched just slightly.
But Ren didn't move. Didn't argue. Didn't even lift his head. He just stood there, silent and small in the noise of the marketplace.
"Ren?"
The shopkeeper tapped the filled bag twice.
"Here. Best tomatoes you'll find today."
Ren finally reached out and took it with both hands.
"How much?" he asked, voice thin.
"Five silvers," the man replied gently — softer than before.
Ren paid quickly, bowed his head, and stepped away from the stall with hurried steps that almost looked like escape.
The shopkeeper watched him disappear down the street, a crease forming between his brows.
Poor kid… Something's eating him up.
Ren reached the house at last.
He slipped inside the house quietly, almost like he didn't want the door to make a sound.
Vaspera was sitting in the hall — book open, posture immaculate. She glanced up as soon as she heard him enter.
Ren didn't meet her eyes.
He kept his head lowered, steps stiff, and walked past her without a single word, clutching the bag of vegetables against his chest.
But Vaspera saw everything — the tight grip, the silent tension, the way his shoulders stayed just a little too still.
Her eyes narrowed, curiosity edging into concern.
Something happened.
And judging by the way Ren disappeared straight into the kitchen, he clearly didn't want her to know.
Which, of course, only made her want to know even more.
---