67
Days passed quietly at Bona’s tree house.
Lir had made a full recovery; her breathing was steady, and her wounds had mended. Maxi awakened shortly after, healing at the remarkable rate expected from his Druid lineage. Bruises faded, bones knitted, and his energy returned—too quickly, according to Bona, who caught him sneaking food twice before breakfast.
Finn, however, remained asleep.
His body no longer bled, his wounds nearly invisible thanks to Bona’s healing, but his consciousness had not yet returned. Katherine refused to leave his bedside, her fingers often brushing his hand as if silently urging him back. Chummy hovered now and then, leaving dust that shimmered faintly before disappearing into Finn’s skin.
Outside, morning air drifted through the leaves.
Lir and Maxi returned from Talon Peak, having visited Lir’s pact Haribon. Its breathing was strong again, its feathers regaining their sheen.
Near the eastern clearing, they spotted Soraya practicing.
Her bow—long, silver-tipped—sang through the air.
FWIP!
The arrow sliced the wind with a sharp whistle, riding a burst of air that bent the grass before striking its target several hundred yards away.
Maxi shook his head.
“She doesn’t even try.”
Lir smirked.
“She doesn’t need to.”
The lynx lounged beside Durante on the terrace, its eyes fixed protectively on Finn’s window. Durante did the same, hardly sleeping but always listening for changes in his son’s breathing.
That morning, Bona prepared for her journey to Dore Castle, where her grandniece was about to begin an apprenticeship. She carried a gift—a light sword fitted perfectly for a young wielder. Blue hilt, precision gem embedded at the guard, slender blade with etched patterns.
Lir and Maxi asked to accompany her.
Durante granted permission—only if the lynx guarded them.
Soon after, the group gathered on the hill’s circular platform.
“O Stag who runs the silver thread,
Lead me to where Elf-kin tread.”
The air folded—
The light bent—
And they vanished.
The marketplace of Dore bustled with vibrant color.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Streets paved with red and pale gray brick glimmered under the midday sun. Merchants shouted their wares—gems, beasts, bread, flowers, enchanted items. Children weaved between stalls with bags of sweets.
Maxi felt electricity in the air—new place, new sights, new possibilities.
The group wandered. Lir looked at cloths, Bona inspected herbs, and the lynx sniffed everything it found suspicious.
But Maxi broke away, eyes lighting up when he saw a weapons stall.
Longswords. Daggers. Spears. Blades inscribed with runes. Even strange curved weapons he hadn’t seen before.
He approached reverently.
His fingers brushed a slim shortsword. Smooth hilt. Good weight.
He waited.
Mundi?
Hey, Mundi? This is where you say something cool like “not that one.”
Silence.
Maxi lifted a spear.
Mundi?
Nothing.
A dagger.
Hello? Mundi??
Still nothing.
He deflated.
Lir walked past and raised a brow.
“Still no voice in your head?”
Maxi groaned.
“No. I think Mundi’s on vacation.”
He set the weapons down with a disappointed sigh and dragged himself to the next stall, where soft glowing candles were displayed.
One candle pulsed warm gold, radiating a soothing aura.
A candle that never dries—just like the shop sign said.
He reached for it—
Another hand touched it at the exact same moment.
Maxi blinked.
Long black hair tied in a waist-length ponytail.
White-green outfit hugging her features elegantly.
High collar. Modest cleavage.
Split skirt showing her thigh for mobility.
Short heels tapping sharply on the stone floor.
Her expression was confident. A bit too confident.
“Sorry,” she said coolly. “This item is mine.”
Maxi stared.
“Uhh—no? I was literally reaching for it.”
She tilted her head, amused.
“I grabbed it first. And in Dore, priority goes to the beautiful lady.”
Maxi’s soul briefly left his body.
“Kiddo—” she began.
Maxi froze.
“KIDDO? I’m your height, you— you leafy green show-off!”
Her eye twitched.
For the first time, someone dared underestimate her beauty.
“I took it first,” she repeated.
“And I take it back!” Maxi grabbed the candle.
She grabbed it tighter.
“You are insufferable.”
“You are—” Maxi stopped, searching for the perfect insult. “—a candle thief!”
Before she could respond, she handed coins to the shop owner.
“Paid,” she said.
Maxi choked.
“What?! You—”
She turned to leave.
Maxi grabbed her shoulder without thinking.
She spun—
He stumbled—
They collided—
They fell.
Her ponytail whipped around—
Their lips touched.
Time froze.
Maxi’s eyes widened.
Hers widened more.
Then—
SLAP!
A sharp ringing exploded across Maxi’s cheek.
He flopped sideways on the ground.
“What was THAT for?!” Maxi cried.
“You KNOW what!” she shouted back, cheeks blazing red.
The lynx padded over, stared at Maxi, and sighed the sigh of an old, tired creature.
Lir covered her face.
Bona muttered, “Spirits save me from teenagers.”
The shop owner cleared his throat.
“You two don’t need to fight. There’s another candle. Last piece.”
The girl shot up to her feet, hair flying.
“I’m leaving,” she declared, turning sharply.
She walked away, heels clicking fast, ears burning red.
Maxi sat up holding his cheek.
“She slapped me! Who slaps a stranger?!”
Lir patted his back.
“You’ll live.”
Bona handed him the second candle.
“In Maharlika,” Bona said with a knowing smile,
“the spirits love irony.”
As they walked away, the girl—now at the edge of the crowd—paused, glanced back once…
And scowled.
But her face was still pink.
