They packed fast.
Lenora’s camp was minimal—because you didn’t carry luxuries when the forest wanted you dead.
Derpy’s supplies were… not.
He had grocery bags.
A half-crushed box of cereal.
Dog treats.
Cat food.
Sealant.
Lenora stared at the sealant like it was a cursed artifact.
Derpy shrugged.
“Don’t ask,” he said.
Lenora didn’t.
They started walking.
Derpy kept glancing at his wrists.
The bracelets were quiet.
Too quiet.
Like a kid pretending to behave after getting caught.
Mia trotted ahead, sniffing everything.
Sphinx stayed close to Derpy’s leg, occasionally brushing against him like a reminder: I’m here. Don’t you dare disappear.
Lenora walked slightly in front, sword hand relaxed but ready.
But she kept glancing back.
Not suspicious.
Checking.
And every time her eyes met Derpy’s for more than a second—
her face went full pink.
Instant.
She’d snap her gaze away like she’d been caught stealing.
Like looking at him was dangerous.
Derpy tried to match her pace.
He failed.
Lenora slowed anyway.
Not kindness.
Practicality.
(But also… a lot of kindness she was pretending wasn’t there.)
“You’ll learn,” she said.
Derpy huffed.
“I was learning fine in my world,” he muttered.
Lenora’s ears twitched.
“Your world had Calamities?” she asked.
Derpy stared.
“No,” he said. “My world had bills.”
Lenora blinked.
Derpy almost smiled.
Almost.
Lenora’s cheeks warmed.
Full pink again.
She looked away like she could pretend it didn’t happen.
Because the fog shifted.
And the forest made that listening silence again.
Lenora’s posture tightened.
Derpy’s bracelets warmed—just a little.
A warning.
A tease.
Derpy swallowed.
“Whisperfen is… safe?” he asked.
Lenora didn’t answer immediately.
Then she said, “Safer.”
Derpy grimaced.
“Love that.”
They walked.
And somewhere far away—so far it would’ve been a myth if the air hadn’t suddenly tensed—something ancient stirred.
High above the fog line, where the clouds thinned and the wind ran clean, a dragon’s eyes snapped open.
Vespera.
Eldest.
Authority.
Her breath caught.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
A pulse rolled through the world—warm as embers, sharp as a brand.
A Calamity had awakened.
Not just any Calamity.
Celica’s Embers.
Vespera’s claws flexed against stone.
Her wings unfurled with a sound like thunder being swallowed.
“Impossible,” she whispered.
Then her gaze turned toward the fog-bound land.
Toward Whisperfen.
Toward the place the world was about to break again.
And she launched into the sky.