Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

For some reason, Fennrin hadn’t expected Ainreth to have come here using a carriage, but when he thought about it more, it made sense. If Ainreth had come here for him specifically, then a carriage would work better than alternatives. However, that didn’t mean Fennrin was too happy about this.

He hadn’t ridden in a carriage since his parents had disowned him, and anything reminding him of his old life always put him in a foul mood. That said, this carriage was much more luxurious than any his parents could have afforded, red and shiny, with plush seats and golden patterns decorating the entire interior that was almost bigger than the room he was leaving behind.

The opulence of it all was making Fennrin’s head spin, and he had come from a somewhat affluent family. What would a normal, regular person think of this?

“So, I’ll need you to promise not to blab about this anyone, all right?” said Ainreth as he pulled the door of the carriage closed with a thump, sitting down opposite Fennrin and leaning in. “I got attacked by an az-ari from Orinovo a few months ago. A soundsmith, which I was not even aware existed.” Ainreth rubbed the back of his neck, looking away with a grimace. “And well, she kind of….”

“Defeated you?” Fennrin guessed. Given how embarrassed Ainreth seemed to be, and how secretive he was being about it, that was the logical option. And yet Ainreth’s eyes grew wide in shock anyway.

“Fine, yes, okay?” Ainreth admitted, huffing. “She could somehow use sound to stop my light from hitting her. It wasn’t a fair fight. I would have won otherwise.”

Fennrin nodded, too busy thinking this information over to even comment on Ainreth’s self-pity. The carriage gave a lurch as the horse pulling it started moving, the carriage wheels clicking against the cobblestone of the street.

“So this is why you want my help? You think I can somehow defeat her for you.”

Ainreth huffed again, sinking back into his seat as he drummed his fingers against it at his sides. “Well, that would be nice.” He shook his head, sighing. “I wasn’t looking specifically for a shadowforger. I mean, do you know how rare az-ari like us two are? But then my lieutenant heard a rumor about a suspiciously good shadow puppet show, and I had to get there immediately.”

“But how can I help you? Shadows are hardly anyone’s weakness.”

Ainreth grabbed Fennrin by his shoulders, his face inches from his own. “Fenn, would you stop putting yourself down like that? Just think about it. Do you think sound can affect shadows?”

Fennrin shook Ainreth’s hands off his shoulders, but he couldn’t not ponder that question. He supposed the answer was no. But then he wouldn’t have thought sound could affect light either. “I don’t know what to think.”

And that was true in general. He didn’t know what to make of any of this, and he wasn’t sure what to think of Ainreth himself either. He was…very different from what Fennrin had imagined. He hadn’t spent much time thinking about Ainreth since he’d had different very different priorities, but Ainreth was a general, a soldier, and an incredibly powerful az-ari. And yet he was so much more…emotional than he’d been expecting.

Perhaps that wasn’t even the correct word. But Fennrin was surprised by how Ainreth was acting.

“That’s okay, we’ll figure it out,” Ainreth said, winking. Fennrin immediately felt his cheeks grow warm. Okay, he certainly hadn’t expected that either. “Though I can’t believe you never explored your power. Haven’t you ever thought about moving shadows? Not creating them.”

Fennrin tensed up, looking away. Yes, he had thought about it. And it had cost him everything. “It…didn’t end well.”

Ainreth’s curious gaze turned serious. “Did you accidentally hurt someone?”

Fennrin heaved a sigh. Did he really want to tell Ainreth about this? On one hand, he’d wanted to tell someone, anyone, for years, just to get it off his chest, but he wasn’t sure he trusted Ainreth, someone he’d only just met, with something so personal.

“It’s okay if you did, you know. That doesn’t make you evil,” Ainreth continued before Fennrin managed to speak. His voice was surprisingly soft and sad. It made Fennrin blink in surprise at the sudden change of mood. “I know the kind of things people say about shadowforgers, it’s all nonsense.”

Fennrin wasn’t so sure about that, but he decided to not comment. “No, I….” He sighed again, looking down. “My family disowned me after I sprained our cat’s tail.”

There was a moment of stifling silence between them before Ainreth burst out laughing. And Fennrin felt like glass shards were being stabbed through his heart. His hurt must have shown on his face before he managed to school his expression into a mask of neutrality because Ainreth quickly stopped laughing, his eyes wide, his lips drawn into a grimace.

“Uh, sorry, Fenn, I just expected you to have killed someone, maybe. Not—”

“It’s fine.”

He should have just kept this to himself. Yes, maybe it sounded silly, but at least he hadn’t hurt anyone too much before deciding not to explore just what he could do. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. But as he looked at the door, his eyes focusing on the window, he realized they were already outside of the city, only green hills and distant mountains to be seen all around them.

There was no going back, anyway. He had nothing to go back to.

Ainreth cleared his throat. “Right, so you, what, hurt the cat with your powers, and your blighted parents decided to kick you out? What kind of logic is that?”

“I was lucky they waited that long,” Fennrin muttered, not even sure why he was engaging in this conversation anymore. Ainreth laughing at him had left a bad taste in his mouth, and he certainly didn’t feel like sharing anything else with him. “I would like to sleep now, if you don’t mind.”

Fennrin wasn’t sure what he would do if Ainreth said that he did mind, this was still his carriage, and he could throw Fennrin out at any point, but Ainreth just gave him a somewhat awkward nod, letting Fennrin lie down on the long seat, curling up with his back facing Ainreth.

His mind was whirling, but thankfully, even with the carriage moving and running over bumps, he was so exhausted he would soon pass out anyway.

He sighed as he closed his eyes. What a day this had turned out to be.

Fennrin woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. Groaning, he yawned, turning just enough to squint at the person touching him, which turned out to be, unsurprisingly, Ainreth.

“We’ve arrived, sleepyhead,” Ainreth said, smirking at him. Fennrin scowled. He had reason to be tired, though he hadn’t expected to sleep through the entire way to the capital, given he had been sleeping in a carriage. Kyr-Toryl wasn’t that close to Keryma. He must have really been tired.

Fennrin rubbed his eyes, groaning at how much his body ached from the somewhat awkward way he’d been sleeping, trying to get himself to wake up properly as he sat up and yawning once more. Following Ainreth, he stumbled out of the carriage, blearily looking around himself as he brushed a few loose strands of his hair behind his ear.

His eyes widened when he realized they were now in the middle of a large, stone square, bustling with people. There were market stands lining the walls, the voices of the people selling and buying almost overwhelming in their loudness, and, unfortunately, delicious smells immediately reached his nose.

Fennrin grimaced as his empty stomach gurgled. Not that he wasn’t used to that by now, but he was usually in close proximity to food that smelled like that.

“Come on, let’s find something to eat,” Ainreth said, patting Fennrin’s back as if being able to read his thoughts. Fennrin wanted to tell the man to stop touching him so much, but he was too hungry to find the energy to do so, so he just followed the Daybreaker, doing his best to stick close so he didn’t lose him in the crowd.

Though it was probably difficult to lose Ainreth, the man stood out a lot. Even just his pristine white cloak stood out in the sea of darker colors. Though as Fennrin looked around, he did note that most of the people around them had much nicer clothes than what he was used to seeing, with more vibrant colors and intricate patterns sewn into the fabric. Even Ainreth’s cloak, now that he took the time to study it, wasn’t just perfectly white—there were long, thin triangles sewn with golden thread in it. They reminded Fennrin of blades, but he suspected that what the shapes were actually supposed to invoke were beams of light.

Fennrin felt a pang of sadness in his heart. It had to be nice for Ainreth to be able to flaunt his power like this. If Fennrin tried to call attention to his, he would be hated for it, certainly not celebrated like Ainreth.

Though the people here didn’t seem too fascinated with Ainreth, now that Fennrin thought to notice that. Someone did look their way, maybe even greeting the general, but most were shopping and minding their own business. But then, Ainreth lived here. The people were probably used to his presence.

“Sorry that it’s going to be street food,” Ainreth said as they made their way over to the other side of the square, stopping Fennrin from staring with shock at one of the potted trees that he’d only now noticed were also present at this square. “I would take you to an inn somewhere, get you a proper meal, but now that we’re here, someone is going to tell the Bulwark about you, and she gets impatient.”

Fennrin shook his head. The fact that Ainreth had even thought of apologizing for that…. If Ainreth had given Fennrin stale bread, he’d happily eat it. This was ridiculous.

He was concerned about the mention of the Bulwark of the Royal Guard, though. Surely the courtier leader of the army would want to only talk to Ainreth, one of her generals, and not Fennrin himself. And yet Fennrin couldn’t help but feel an implication he didn’t much like.

“The Bulwark?”

“Oh yeah,” Ainreth nodded, slowing down so they were now standing next to each other. “She sent me on this little quest to find, um, a solution to our problem.” Ainreth ran his eyes over the crowd as they kept walking, as if ready to scold anyone who overheard this incredibly vague description of the situation. “She will want to see you. That’s why we need to make you look more….” Ainreth waved his hand. “Presentable.”

Fennrin scowled, but he couldn’t get himself to voice his hurt feelings. Because Ainreth was right. His clothes were old and frayed, his shoes had holes in the soles, and he could use a bath. He couldn’t see one of the leaders of Lys-Akkaria looking like this.

But then, he wasn’t much interested in seeing the Bulwark. The thought filled him with dread and anxiety. He was a nobody, and Ainreth wanted to show him off like he was some kind of solution to anything.

“No offense, Fenn. You’re a very handsome man no matter what. But she gets particular about these things.”

Fennrin’s gaze snapped up to meet Ainreth’s, blushing, just in time to see the man wink. For the second time. By the moon, was he being flirted with by the Daybreaker? Was that why the man had been so touchy with him the entire time?

Fennrin wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel flattered or offended. The fact that Ainreth was doing this already, without the two of them even knowing each other much, was probably indicative of something, though.

“So, anyway, food,” Ainreth said, clasping his hands together happily. “I could really go for some of those fried….” Ainreth’s excitement gave way to a flash of embarrassment. “Um, cube meat…things. I don’t know what they’re called, but they are delicious.”

Fennrin shrugged. He just wanted to eat something, and if Ainreth was willing to pay, he was more than happy to eat whatever he chose. At least he hoped Ainreth would pay because Fennrin’s eight virens weren’t going to help him much here. He ran his eyes over the street food on offer as they reached the correct stands, more than a little overwhelmed by the amount of it. It made him feel a little lightheaded looking at all the meats, pastries, and everything else under the sun, including fish he’d never seen before.

Though the prices of all of it were even more staggering than the selection. Three virens for a chicken leg seemed a tag excessive, no matter how delicious. Though then again, this was the capital. Maybe people were paid better here.

They soon found whatever it was Ainreth was looking for. Fennrin let Ainreth chat with the seller, a muscular woman with long, black hair, standing a little bit away. And the moment Ainreth turned around with beige paper boxes full of small meat cubes with some kind of dark red sauce over them, already soaking through the paper a little.

Fennrin stared, never having really seen paper boxes used for food. Paper was usually made by sproutkeepers, and while those were some of the most common az-ari, they were still somewhat rare, as all az-ari were.

“Here we go!” Ainreth said with so much excitement, shoving one of the boxes into Fennrin’s hands before throwing a few of the cubes from his own into his mouth, humming happily as he chewed.

Fennrin would have felt a little put off by all of this if he weren’t ravenous, and so instead he also put one of the pieces in his mouth, his eyes widening at the sweet yet savory taste. He’d not expected that, but the cube practically melted on his tongue. It seemed he couldn’t fault Ainreth too much for his reaction.

He ended up eating a few more rapidly, both his hunger and the taste urging him on.

“Good, aren’t they?” Ainreth said, grinning. “Now come on, we have to get going. To the palace.”

Fennrin blinked when Ainreth put a hand on his back, pulling him along. He didn’t protest, though, too preoccupied with the food to bother questioning anything for the moment. Only then did Fennrin realize that it was morning again. He’d fallen asleep while there was still light, so he hadn’t even thought to question why the sun was still in the sky. So he’d slept through the whole night.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Ainreth had done so as well. Surely he must have.

As he continued eating, Fennrin looked around with fascination, for the first time properly noticing the full scale of his surroundings. There was a massive, stone bridge with towers hanging over half of the square, high above, keeping the space beneath in shadow. Beyond, there was a wide street full of people, with steps leading down, farther into the city, while another road, the was Ainreth was leading him, was leading from the square up toward another bridge.

And there were Lys-Akkarian banners hanging everywhere, both simply showing off their red and black color, and also featuring their emblematic dragon. Fennrin hadn’t really seen that much before. Yes, flags were quite common, but not like this.

As they started to walk up the road and reached the bridge, though, Fennrin almost dropped his food box at the view. Towering above them was a mountain range, white tips as far as the eye could see. But as breathtaking as that view was, Fennrin’s eyes immediately focused on the royal palace instead. Its shining, golden roofs, its many towers, the sheer height of the structure, but even more—the fact that it was built onto the cliff of one of the mountains was mindboggling.

He had known about this prior, it was one of the wonders of Kyr-Toryl, but to actually see it was something completely different. It almost didn’t look real, towering above the city as it was. And even more, he couldn’t believe that was where he was going to go. It felt…strange. He didn’t belong there.

“Never been here, huh?” Ainreth asked, bringing him out of his revelry. Fennrin shook his head, looking back at the palace. It looked so far away, too, and so high up. It seemed to Fennrin it would take quite a while to walk there, which was odd given that Ainreth had said that they were in a hurry.

“Honestly, it’s not all that nice once you have to go up there for the hundredth time. But I felt like your first time should be special.”

Fennrin supposed he could find it in himself to appreciate the thought, though wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of climbing all those stone steps up to the palace. Surely they could have at least taken the carriage to the bottom of them. It was still quite far to get to them.

Fennrin didn’t mind walking, but he was perpetually tired from never getting enough to eat. So he wasn’t very excited about such a physical feat.

“I can carry you if you want,” Ainreth said, which made Fennrin’s head snap to the side to meet his amused eyes.

“No,” he immediately replied, his face growing warm as he scowled at Ainreth. The man was just enjoying embarrassing him now, he was sure of that. There was flirting and then there was whatever this was.

“Your loss.”

Fennrin rolled his eyes, his gaze firmly trained on the palace as his face turned a shade more red. Without saying anything he started walking up the street toward the palace, even though he wasn’t even sure how to get there. There wasn’t a direct path here, instead a winding road that split off into numerous smaller ones, almost seeming to disappear as Fennrin’s eyes followed it up the mountain.

Thankfully, almost immediately Ainreth caught up, taking the lead, which helped Fennrin relax because he truly had no idea where he was going.

Ainreth set a relatively leisurely pace that Fennrin didn’t have trouble keeping up with. It even allowed him to finish his meal, though he couldn’t help but dread this walk more and more as they crossed one bridge over a part of the city, only to walk up two dozen steps before reaching another bridge. And then another, slowly making their way up until reaching the final set of steps leading directly up to the palace. By then Fennrin was panting, sweat on his face, the merciless sun making him feel even hotter than he actually was. The muscles in his legs burned, but he refused to slow down, even once it became clear that Ainreth had noticed. Fennrin pretended he couldn’t see the man looking at him from where he was now walking next to him, but he still felt embarrassed.

He wondered what Ainreth was thinking. He probably hadn’t expected Fennrin to not even be able to climb some stairs. He believed Ainreth that perhaps his control over shadows could be useful in a fight, no matter how unlikely it seemed to Fennrin, because there was no chance of Ainreth going through all this trouble to get him here otherwise. But he doubted he was making a good first impression with how physically inept he was.

And it wasn’t just the malnutrition, either. Fennrin had never fought in his life.

“You know, I’m still up for carrying you,” Ainreth offered, his voice surprisingly soft and concerned, but Fennrin couldn’t really appreciate it with his heart pounding in his ears.

“I’ll…manage,” Fennrin forced out through gritted teeth, breathing hard. Sunder, this was embarrassing. He felt like he might vomit, his stomach twisting from the effort, but that was about the last thing he wanted. Not only would it make for an awful first impression, it would also waste Ainreth’s money and leave Fennrin hungry. He swallowed, refusing to let himself get sick. Not in front of all the people around him, heading up and down. That would unacceptable.

But the next step he took, he wavered, tipping forward as his foot slipped down the smooth stone of the staircase. The only reason he didn’t end up smashing his face into it was Ainreth, his hands catching him before he could hit the ground.

Fennrin felt his face burn as Ainreth helped him stand up properly, keeping an arm around his shoulders. His ankle hurt now. It didn’t feel serious, but it would make his walking even harder. Fennrin didn’t dare look up, feeling far too ashamed to stare at anything other than the ground.

He followed Ainreth’s lead as the Daybreaker, not letting go of him, helped him continue walking up, one step at a time. Neither of them said anything until they reached the top. Fennrin felt like collapsing at that point, but he couldn’t because now he was at the palace grounds. He couldn’t just lie down in the middle of the cobbled pathway.

“Sorry, Fenn. I thought it would be nice to see the city like this. I didn’t think—” Ainreth cut himself off with a huff. He had let go of him now, instead fidgeting with his hands in front of him. “Sorry.”

Fennrin couldn’t help but frown at how down Ainreth seemed now. His eyes were downcast, his lips in a guilty grimace. Why was he feeling guilty?

“It should be me who is sorry,” Fennrin argued, looking back down at the ground.

“What? Because you’re starved out? Come on, that’s ridiculous,” Ainreth said, still breathing hard, shaking his head. “We will fix that. First, let’s get you a bath, though.”

Fennrin shuddered at the thought of what he must smell like, especially after this feat. He was so sweaty. A bath sounded wonderful right about now. And so despite his exhaustion, he told Ainreth to lead him wherever a bath was available immediately, antsy to get to it.

He expected to be led into the palace itself, but they began to follow a path around it, lined with tall trees and neatly trimmed bushes. Fennrin couldn’t help but keep staring at the palace, though, studying the dark patterns painted onto its white walls. The palace looked no less grand from up close.

Despite his fascination with the structure, though, Fennrin’s eyes sometimes caught the people around them, and every time he felt incredibly out of place. Everyone here was wearing clothes even more expensive-looking than in the city below.

Fennrin was used to people judging him, but not for this reason. This was new, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Did you know this mountain is a volcano?”

Fennrin flinched, staring at Ainreth with his eyes wide. “What?”

Ainreth waved his hand, smiling. As if this was no big deal. “Oh, it’s dormant, don’t worry. It barely ever even shakes the ground. I think the last earthquake happened over fifty years ago.”

Fennrin shook his head. This information wasn’t comforting at all. Who even decided to build a palace on the cliffside of a volcano? It was a horrible idea, even if the volcano hadn’t exploded in a long time. It just seemed irresponsible, and now this would be all he would think about.

As they walked around the palace, Fennrin finally realized where they were going as noticed that what he’d from the distance assumed was also part of the palace were actually lavish homes built next to it, all in a similar style but distinct anyway, either through larger details such as where the door and windows were placed, and the size and height of the building, or through smaller ones, like the decorations on windows, and potted plants on the windows sills.

“You live here?” Fennrin asked, unable not to wonder which of the houses was Ainreth’s. It would make sense for the general to have a house like this, though Fennrin couldn’t say he’d given this any thought before.

“You’ll get used to it.” Ainreth gave Fennrin’s back a pat, which for once Fennrin didn’t mind because he was too surprised by what the man had just said. “If you want to, of course. It does get a little annoying getting up here sometimes, but the view’s great.”

Fennrin didn’t understand how Ainreth could be so sure that he would have a place here. Especially up here specifically. But he said nothing. He was too tired from dragging himself all this way here to question anything anymore.

Ainreth’s house was actually surprisingly tame in extravagance, featuring two stories with a balcony, a dark, though still shiny roof, and a short wooden staircase leading to the door. Sighing, Fennrin climbed up them after Ainreth. He was so tired of stairs. Kyr-Toryl seemed to be obsessed with them.

As Fennrin walked inside, he suddenly felt very awkward. Was it strange that Ainreth had brought him to his house like this? Surely there had been other options, even if Ainreth had brought him here without enough time to plan for accommodations for him. But Fennrin supposed he shouldn’t question this and just be grateful for getting a place to wash up. Ainreth had given no indication that this was in any way awkward to him, so Fennrin would try to ignore it.

He tried not to gawk at his surrounding too much, though he couldn’t help but notice that neither the furniture, nor anything else seemed ridiculously luxurious. Fennrin had assumed that Ainreth was very into expensive things, but this didn’t look too different from his old family home. A few paintings hanging from the walls, some bookshelves lining the walls, a table and a few chairs in the middle of the room with a rug beneath them, a kitchen with a stove in the back, and opposite it that a spiral, wooden staircase leading upstairs.

For a second Fennrin wanted to sigh again, expecting to be led upstairs, but Ainreth actually walked over to a door on the right, opening it and waving him in. Fennrin followed, wiping his forehead. He let his eyes linger just for a moment on the painting hanging close to the door of a younger-looking Ainreth and five people who looked at least twenty years older than him, three women, and two men. Fennrin wondered if that was his family, and immediately he felt a pang in his heart. He was sure his own family had destroyed any portraits he had been on by now.

His head down, Fennrin walked inside the room, blinking at the dim lighting within the room. It was quite small, containing basically only a copper bathtub and a large divider for changing clothes, partially also obscuring the bathtub, but the fact that Ainreth had a room specifically to wash himself in was strange to him.

“All right, let me just….” Fennrin watched as Ainreth walked to the bathtub, which was apparently already halfway filled with water, and put his hand over it. Fennrin stared in awe as Ainreth twitched a finger, light shooting out from his hand into the water, almost too intense to properly look at, and suddenly the water was steaming a little.

Fennrin blinked as the light disappeared, watching Ainreth touch the water. Had…had Ainreth just used his power to heat up water? That was not something Fennrin had thought he could do, though it made some sense. Sunlight could do as much, also.

It just made his head spin just how versatile Ainreth’s power must have been.

“Okay, water should be fine,” Ainreth said as he turned around. “There’s soap on the shelf next to the bathtub. Take your pick. I’ll go get you some clothes.”

Ainreth almost left the room, leaving Fennrin still a little taken aback in the middle of the room before he paused. “What color do you like to wear?”

Fennrin didn’t answer, simply looking down at his faded white tunic and torn beige trousers to make his point.

“Right, stupid question. I’ll find something that brings out your pretty eyes.”

And then Ainreth was gone, shutting the door behind him. Fennrin stared at it for a moment before deciding to just not think about any of this for too long. Eager to get cleaned up, Fennrin disrobed, putting his clothes over the divider before climbing into the water with a sigh. It was at a perfect temperature. Did Ainreth do this every time that he knew how to heat up the water so nicely? Or did he just have such control of his powers? Either way, Fennrin couldn’t help but be impressed.

He let himself just lay in the water for a while before actually cleaning himself with the soap, of which there were five differently scented kinds, apparently, which seemed a bit excessive to him who had barely had one bar of it on a good day, but he was hardly in a position to complain. He took the time to wash his hair too, freeing it from his short ponytail.

He was almost done when Ainreth showed up again, barely bothering to knock before barging in, holding what looked like a light blue tunic and some dark gray slacks, with a pair of boots on top. Fennrin immediately scrambled to hide behind the divider better, though Ainreth seemed completely unbothered.

“It’s a little mismatched, but unfortunately, you can’t wear anything of mine because I, um, doubt anything would fit.” He put the clothes over the divider along with a towel, putting the boots on the ground in front of it. “We’ll get you something better later, but this will have to do for now.”

And then Ainreth left again before Fennrin could even express his gratitude. As if Fennrin would possibly scoff at whatever clothes Ainreth had managed to get. He peered as closely at the blue fabric as he could from where he was, seeing that the tunic was decorated with gold and silver thread sewn into it. He wondered where Ainreth had managed to get it in such a short time.

Starting to feel a little self-conscious about all of these gifts he was receiving, Fennrin got out of the bathtub and dried himself off before putting the new clothes on. If they were in a hurry, he didn’t want to waste Ainreth’s time more than necessary. Ainreth hadn’t said anything, but Fennrin would try to avoid it regardless. No matter the mixed first impression he’d gotten from the man, he would do his best not to inconvenience him if he could help it.

He had to take a moment to properly appreciate how soft the tunic was, but he didn’t let himself get too carried away as he put the boots on before exiting the room, his hair still damp. He hoped he wouldn’t drip over the clothes too much in case Ainreth needed them back.

He didn’t even have to announce that he was done, since the moment he walked out Ainreth was getting up from the chair he was sitting in, turning to face Fennrin. And then staring at him with wide eyes for long enough to make Fennrin feel strange, his face growing warm. He tore his eyes away from Ainreth to look at the other person in the house, a woman with her ginger hair in many complex braids, who was naturally looking at him, too.

“Um, hello?”

The woman grinned, getting up as well with an excited bounce, rushing over to him with her hand reaching out to him. Fennrin frowned, hesitantly shaking it.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Anyri. Ain here told me you need a trim.”

Fennrin wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was mildly disturbed. “Um.”

His eyes found Ainreth’s, who seemed to have gotten a hold of himself finally as he cleared his throat, a prominent blush on his face. “Your hair. Thought it might be good to get it a little evened out. Anyri cuts mine all the time.”

“Let’s get to it, then.”

Fennrin resisted the urge to yelp as Anyri pulled him along to one of the chairs, pushing him to sit, which he did, before she started systematically cradling her fingers through his damp hair.

“Want some major changes?”

Fennrin had no idea how to respond. He didn’t mind his hair the way it was. Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to him to think about how it looked when he’d had other things to worry about.

“I think the ponytail looks great,” Ainreth said, making Anyri laugh and Fennrin blush. He wanted to snap at Ainreth to stop saying things like that, but at the same time, it made his insides flutter in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. So he was stuck.

“Of course you would think that.”

Ainreth let out an offended noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I like my hair fine as is,” Fennrin finally managed to find his voice, feeling more than a little awkward.

“Right. Got it.”

Fennrin sat there, letting Anyri comb his hair, evening it out before putting a large piece of cloth over his shoulders and beginning to trim with a pair of scissors. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but given how unkept his hair had been, it couldn’t be worse than what it had been before.

Finally, once she was done, he was handed a hand mirror, and his eyebrows flew up immediately. His hair was still somewhat damp, and so he was bound to look very different once it dried, but along with his newly washed face and new clothes, he barely recognized himself.

And for once in a good way. His hair was a little shorter now, especially in the front, but there was a shape to it, unlike how it had been until now all over the place unless he tied it back.

Though his sunken-in cheeks and tired eyes did still remind him of where he had been just yesterday, in a way he actually liked seeing them because they helped remind him this wasn’t just some wishful fever dream he was having that his desperate mind had conjured up as an escape fantasy.

“So what do you think?” asked Anyri, but before Fennrin could give his opinion, Ainreth did it for him.

“Amazing!”

Anyri chuckled while Fennrin blushed again. Oh no, Ainreth was going to make these comments all the time now, wasn’t he?

“I’d say we’re about ready to go meet the Bulwark.”

Fennrin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. So it was. He was still tired from the way over here, but he wouldn’t dare suggest taking a moment to rest more, and waste Ainreth’s time.

He was incredibly curious what the Bulwark would say to him himself.