The fire crackled and popped in front of me, its dancing flames casting long, flickering shadows over the surrounding wilderness. I poked at the logs with a long stick, the embers scattering like tiny sparks of orange and red into the cool night air. Each flicker was brief but bright, a stark contrast to the dark silence of the barren landscape that stretched endlessly before us. The wind had turned cold, and I could feel the chill sinking deeper into my bones. The cold wasn't just in the air but in the very earth beneath me, as if the wilderness had absorbed the icy touch of forgotten winters long past. Yet, despite the biting cold, the warmth from the fire wrapped around me like a protective blanket. In this moment, it felt like a rare luxury—peace and quiet after a long, grueling day spent in the noisy chaos of the market.
Lanni sat across from me, one knee drawn up to her chest, her cloak wrapped tightly around her. She held a battered bottle of something dubious in her hand, eyes glinting in the firelight with that mix of mischief and wariness that had become so familiar. It was a look I'd seen a thousand times, but it never failed to make me wonder just what she was thinking behind it. There was a certain restless energy to her, like she was constantly on the lookout for trouble—or perhaps, she was simply waiting for it to find her, as it often did.
We rarely had moments like this, moments without the looming weight of jobs or threats hanging over our heads. Most of our time was spent running, fighting, surviving—but tonight, it felt different. For once, we had nothing to do but unwind, two souls tired of the world, seeking a little peace in the quiet of the wild.
"So," Lanni's voice broke the silence, low and easy, the kind of voice that you couldn't quite place if it was teasing or serious. She stretched out, letting her hands fall back behind her to support her weight as she leaned back slightly, the firelight catching the edges of her cloak and glimmering off the worn leather of her gloves. "You ever think about the old days? Before we started all this... traveling, hunting, dodging bullets?"
I let out a sharp, bitter laugh, but the sound quickly softened into something warmer, something nostalgic. "You mean when we were both a lot dumber and a lot poorer? Yeah, I remember. We thought we were invincible back then—nothing could touch us. Turns out, we were just really good at getting ourselves into trouble."
Lanni smirked, a playful gleam in her eyes. She tipped the bottle back and took a long swig, the liquid sloshing noisily in the bottle. "Aren't we still good at that? I mean, you nearly got us killed last week trying to talk your way through that rogue ambush."
I leaned forward, putting a hand over my chest in mock offense, but my grin couldn't quite hide the amusement. "Hey, that was a strategic negotiation. The fact that they tried to shoot me as soon as I finished talking is their problem, not mine."
Lanni snorted, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "Strategic negotiation, huh? Is that what you call it?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding solemnly. "That's exactly what I call it. Though, I'm starting to think you don't appreciate my charm."
"Oh, I appreciate it," she said with a soft chuckle. "Just not when it gets me caught in a crossfire." She paused, her smile faltering just a bit as her gaze drifted toward the fire, the flickering flames reflecting in her eyes. "Guess we've come a long way since then, huh?"
I raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "You mean you've come a long way. You've turned into a regular model of restraint these days."
She laughed, but the sound was lighter than before, almost relieved. "Yeah, well, someone has to. Can't let you drag us into every disaster, Kvatz."
I feigned a wounded look, clutching my chest with dramatic flair. "Drag us? I prefer to think of it as... leading us into new experiences."
"New experiences that usually involve you getting shot at."
"Hey, you're welcome," I replied, grinning widely and taking a pull from my own bottle. The bitter burn of the drink slid down my throat like a welcome sting. "I've kept you on your toes all this time. You'd be bored out of your mind without me."
"I doubt that," she said, her voice light but with an unmistakable warmth underneath. "But... yeah. You're not the worst travel companion."
"High praise," I replied dryly, tossing a piece of charred wood into the fire. It sparked as it hit the flames, and we both watched as the crackling sound filled the silence for a moment.
The night deepened around us, and the only sound left was the soft crackle of the fire and the occasional whisper of the wind through the sparse trees. It was one of those rare moments where we didn't need to fill the silence with words, and we both understood it for what it was—a precious break from everything else. A fleeting moment of calm in a world that rarely afforded us one.
After a while, I added another log to the fire, watching as the flames eagerly devoured it. The heat seemed to pulse in time with my thoughts, and I let them wander. "Remember when we thought we could just walk into a city and get whatever we wanted? No consequences, no risks?"
Lanni chuckled, her voice low, tinted with a touch of fondness. "We were idiots. But those were the days, weren't they?"
"The days before reality hit us upside the head," I mused, a smile tugging at my lips. It was easy to forget the weight of the world when you were young and full of fire. "Still, it wasn't all bad. We had fun."
"Fun... yeah," she said, her voice softening. There was a distant look in her eyes, like she was seeing something from long ago, something hidden in the past. "I miss it sometimes. Before everything turned... like this." Her eyes drifted to the horizon, where the shattered remnants of civilization stretched across the landscape. Ruins and skeletons of what once were thriving cities, their twisted forms just silhouettes in the night.
I reached out, tapping her gently on the shoulder, a simple gesture to bring her back. "Hey. We've still got the fun, Lanni. Maybe not as much, maybe not the same way, but it's still there. We're still here. Together."
She looked at me for a long moment, her eyes softening with something unspoken. She clinked her bottle against mine, the sound of the glass joining the crackle of the fire in the stillness. "Here's to still being alive," she said, her voice thick with emotion, something deeper behind the words.
"Here's to that," I agreed quietly, taking a long, deep gulp from my bottle. The burn of the alcohol was comforting, almost grounding.
And for a while, we sat in silence again. The fire crackled and the stars above us glittered in the endless night. There were no words, but none were needed. The weight of everything—the chaos, the battles, the losses—seemed lighter in the presence of something as simple as this. A shared moment in the vastness of the wilderness, just two tired travelers, alive and together.
Finally, I leaned back, letting the warmth of the fire seep deeper into my skin. "Tomorrow we'll hunt that deserter down. You ready for that?"
Her grin was sharp, her teeth flashing in the firelight. "Ready as I'll ever be. Just hope he doesn't try to run. I hate chasing people down."
"Don't worry," I said, nudging her lightly with my elbow. "We'll catch him. And then... we'll get paid. And then I'll probably get us into some more trouble."
Lanni snorted, her eyes sparkling with an amused kind of resignation. "Can't wait."
The fire crackled on, and as we passed the bottle back and forth, swapping old stories, laughing under the endless sky, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, this life wasn't all bad.