Oria settled into the routine of things better than he did. It must’ve helped that things were familiar enough; the most she had to adjust to was matching the humans, both in size and language. And that, too, she got with time. It wasn’t long before she could be mistaken for a local, unless she forgot a word and had to ask after it in the Old Tongue.

  But Caenum couldn’t find himself adjusting after their return. He passed by houses and heard the voices of the kids who used to live there; he talked to shopkeepers and remembered how they all used to play pranks; he… looked out into the ocean, and recalled the confidence they’d had when they set out.

  No one blamed him for what happened—no, people barely mentioned it at all. Maybe that was for the better, though a part of him felt like it made it worse. It was like he was the only one who saw the ghosts in the streets, the fragmented laughter; like he was the only one that acknowledged something was different, and there was a hole that couldn’t be filled.

  He’d tried a lot, to see what the others did. To learn that he didn’t play some grand part in it. To find peace, and know that they’d want him to move on. To not feel guilty for being the only one to walk away. Sometimes, it worked. Others, it felt like he was right back at square one.

  And it was on one of the latter days, as he and Oria ran errands for his parents, he stopped by the ocean. It was then, watching the families enjoying their time together and kids chasing each other down the beach, he realized something.

  “I don’t want to stay here.”

  Oria stopped and glanced back at him. He’d said those words before, in other contexts. It was probably remembering those times that she stepped closer and, in a near whisper, said, “Caenum..?”

  “I don’t care about this,” he explained with a wide gesture towards the beach. “It was my home once, but… only with them.”

  He could almost imagine it, the way they’d chase each other up and down the beach; how they messed with the crabs, challenged each other to create a sandcastle that would withstand a barrage of pebbles, shells, and occasionally a wave made from water magic. They’d test their skills, seeing who could draw the most water up from a tidal pool, or who could control a bit of floating water the longest.

  They’d try to spot a ship or siren in the horizon, and claim that, one day, they’d go even further.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “I… don’t think doing something out of impulse will help the situation,” Oria pointed out gently. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “This is something we’ll need to think through.”

  “I never said I was just going to pack up and leave.” Caenum looked away, though. It was because of his shortsightedness and stupid decision that he was debating this at all. “But I think that’s what I need. To get out of here—if not just for a little bit. Would… you be willing to come with me? If my parents will let me leave, and we’ve got a place to go, obviously.”

  Oria regained her smile. “Of course. I’m ready to follow you wherever you go.”

  …

  He’d asked his parents about it, and they were able to find a big map—one that, spread across the floor, had pretty much all of Qizar on it. His parents tried to give a few suggestions, too.

  The first was Hyasari; after all, it seemed that everyone was able to find a purpose there. Oria nervously declined it, though. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle that many humans and, while she never said it, Idkor’s perception of Seothians probably played into it. Living there would’ve made them that much closer to the borders of a seemingly unstable and untrustworthy nation.

  Mentions of somewhere in Solaris territory or the goblin and fairy provinces in the Tylane Coast were made. The former they decided against because, well, both of them were used to coasts and beaches and the sea—a desert wasn’t exactly what they were looking for. Caenum objected to the latter, since he knew they didn’t like any humans. Being around them all his life, he knew it would be weird to live in a place where they were mostly frowned upon.

  Realizing a middle ground needed to be reached, that’s where their search focused. They needed a place where there were humans somewhere, at least, but not too many of them. Somehow, the possibility of lower Rhodes territory was brought up. According to Caenum’s mother, she had a cousin there.

  So that’s where they set their sights.

  He kept making sure that Oria was alright with it—that she was ready, that she wasn’t just following him around. She got more confident the more often he asked.

  When they got there, almost jokingly at this point, he remarked, “Well, this is the last chance you have at backing out.”

  “My mind’s still made up, though,” she said with a smile. She looked around, but she didn’t seem afraid or confused. She seemed peaceful. “No matter where we are… things are going to be okay, as long as we’re together.”

  Caenum, seeing his mother’s cousin walking up to them, waved to them. “Yeah. I’ve got a good feeling about this, too.”

  And Oria slowly stepped closer, gently taking his hand. “This is where we build our home.”

  “The past is behind us,” he agreed with a nod. He grew a wide smile at the thought. “Now the only thing left is the future.”