I grin, resting my chin back on his shoulder. “Too late, buddy. You’re stuck with me.”
Kael mutters something under his breath, and I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he didn’t actually mind.
At some point, dignity has to take priority over efficiency. And right now, dignity is demanding a bathroom break.
“Okay, I need a minute,” I announce. “Like, an actual, non-bouncing minute where I can remember what it feels like to stand on my own two feet and also, uh… handle some business.”
Kael sighs, slowing to a stop with the reluctance of someone who is deeply, profoundly disappointed in me. “We’re making good time,” he mutters, but he kneels, loosening the straps and letting me slide off his back.
I stagger as my feet touch the ground. Everything feels weird. My legs wobble like a newborn foal’s, and I cling to the nearest tree for support. “Fuck—I think my ass has forgotten what it’s like to carry my own weight.”
Kael crosses his arms, unimpressed. “I will allow five minutes.”
I flip him off as I stumble into the trees. The terrain here is thick with foliage—tall, twisting trees with dark, smooth bark, their roots tangling like serpents over the ground. The air is humid, filled with the scent of damp earth and something sweet—almost floral, but not quite.
Beyond the trees, the land slopes downwards, revealing an expanse of still, glassy water. It stretches out further than I can see, the liquid dark and eerily purple, like ink spilled across a page. There’s no visible shoreline on the other side. No rippling, no waves. Just… vastness.
After I pee, I frown, stepping closer. “Kael,” I call. “What the hell is this?”
He’s already pulling out supplies from one of the packs, moving with his usual efficiency. “A body of water.”
“Yeah, no shit. Is it safe? Can we drink it?”
He glances up, following my gaze. “It isn’t poisonous,” he says, which is not the same as “yes, totally safe, go ahead and take a sip.” “There are creatures in its depths, but they rarely come near the surface unless disturbed.”
I do not like that wording. “Creatures?”
Kael shrugs. “Some are harmless.”
“And the others?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, which is answer enough.
I squint at the water. “So, this is like the sea?”
Kael tilts his head, clearly unfamiliar with the word.
“An ocean?” I clarify.
Recognition flickers across his face. “Yes. But without waves.”
I frown. “Why not?”
He gestures towards the sky, then the land. “This region has no strong winds to push the surface. No shifting tides.”
Huh. Weird. The ocean without waves feels… unnatural. But then, everything here feels unnatural.
I watch as Kael efficiently lays out food—something dried, something vaguely meat-like, and something that might be fruit if I don’t think too hard about it. “I would like to travel a little longer before we stop for the night,” he says. “We’re making good progress, and the land ahead is not as rough.”
“Fine by me,” I say, but my focus is still on the water. Something about it makes my skin prickle.
And then it moves.
Just a flicker—a ripple breaking the otherwise-glassy surface. But it’s there. My heart kicks. I straighten, eyes scanning the water. “Kael.”
He looks up.
I don’t look away from the lake—ocean—whatever the hell it is. My fingers curl around my dagger. “Something’s moving.”
