Starfall's Wish - Chapter 10 - First Draft (Patreon)

The eerie silence clung to the air like a thick fog, wrapping itself around Yuka and Mabyaku as they traveled through the perilous hills and forest. The weight of yesterday's revelations hung heavy between them, suffocating any conversation that might have tried to take root. With each crunch of snow beneath their feet and the distant creaking of tree branches, the quiet seemed to grow louder, pressing against Yuka's ears in a way that felt almost unbearable.

Mabyaku had made it clear he would not speak to her, his jaw set with determination and eyes focused solely on the path ahead. Despite the need for teamwork in tending to their wounded companions, Mabyaku's silence hurt Yuka more than she could have ever imagined.

As they continued, Yuka found herself wrestling with an internal struggle. Her mind churned with questions and doubts, each one clamoring for attention, threatening to overwhelm her. She should confront him, shouldn't she? Demand answers for the secrets he had kept from her and the burden he now placed on her shoulders. But would confronting him only drive him further away?

"Can we truly work together if there is no trust?" Yuka thought, her inner voice wavering as her green eyes flicked toward Mabyaku. "But what if I push him too far and he abandons us? Could I forgive myself for putting my friends and brother at risk?"

Her heart ached at the thought of their unconscious friends: Theng and Dīl, bound by a magical thread across their foreheads, and Rōshi, feverish and unaware of the world around him. They relied on her, on both her and Mabyaku, and she couldn't let them down.

With a determined nod, Yuka decided to set her feelings aside for now. The needs of their wounded friends came first, as did the survival of their entire group. And so, she chose to stand by Mabyaku despite the silence that hung between them like an impenetrable wall.

"Once we find safety," she promised herself, "I'll confront him. I will have my answers."

Yuka knelt down beside Rōshi, her fingers gently brushing a damp cloth across his feverish brow. She caught a glimpse of Theng and Dīl, still unconscious with the magical thread binding their foreheads together. Her heart tightened; she knew that attending to their wounds was more important than any confrontation with Mabyaku right now.

"Rōshi," she whispered, hoping for any sign of response from her brother. But he remained unresponsive, lost in the depths of his fever. Turning her attention to Theng and Dīl, Yuka cautiously inspected the magical thread to ensure it hadn't tightened or caused any further harm.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, her voice trembling as she looked over at Mabyaku. The silence between them had grown, yet she couldn't deny her need for his help and expertise.

Mabyaku hesitated before nodding, his stoic expression betraying nothing but his willingness to work together for the sake of the wounded. "Ensure they remain stable," he offered quietly, "and find more medicinal herbs if you can."

"Thank you," Yuka whispered, trying to ignore the pang of hurt that threatened to rise within her chest. She focused on Theng and Dīl, adjusting their positions to make them as comfortable as possible, before setting off in search of herbs.

As they continued their journey, Yuka couldn't help but ponder the uneasy companionship between herself and Mabyaku. It was a delicate balance, like walking on a tightrope above an abyss, where one misstep could send everything spiraling into chaos.

"Yuka, we must keep moving," Mabyaku urged, his voice strained with urgency as he gestured to the thickening forest around them. "We need to find shelter before nightfall."

"Right," she agreed, tamping down her swirling emotions and focusing on their immediate needs.

Together, they pressed forward, working as a team despite the silence that still lingered between them. Yuka couldn't help but notice how Mabyaku's once radiant hair seemed dimmer now, its vibrant colors muted by the weight of their unspoken tensions. Yet, despite it all, they managed to make progress in their journey with each step they took.

"Perhaps there's hope for us yet," Yuka mused internally, her green eyes meeting Mabyaku's for a brief moment before they both turned their gazes back to the path ahead.

Over the next few days, the weary travelers journeyed through a landscape that seemed to mirror their own emotional turmoil. The hills and valleys they traversed were covered in a suffocating blanket of snow, while gnarled tree branches clawed at the slate-gray sky as if trying to rip it apart. With each labored step, Yuka felt the silence between her and Mabyaku growing heavier, pressing down on her chest like an unseen weight.

One evening, they stumbled upon a small stream with a waterfall cascading down into a crystalline pool. Along its banks grew clusters of vibrant medicinal herbs, their colors standing out like jewels amidst the oppressive winter landscape. Yuka's heart lifted at the sight, even as her mind stayed tethered to the rift between her and Mabyaku.

"Finally," she thought, "a place where we can rest and heal."

Mabyaku returned from hunting with two small rabbits, their lifeless bodies limp in his grasp. As he began to prepare them for cooking, Yuka couldn't help but notice the way his once muscular arms had grown leaner, the toll of their journey etched into every sinew. Despite the chasm that separated them, she was acutely aware of his proximity, the warmth radiating from his body like a beacon in the cold night.

"Another silent meal," Yuka thought as she chewed on a morsel of rabbit meat. "How much longer can we go on like this?"

Her green eyes flickered to Mabyaku's face, searching for any sign of emotion. But he remained stoic, his ageless features betraying nothing. It was as if a wall had been erected between them, one that threatened to grow taller and more impenetrable with each passing day.

The embers of the dying fire cast eerie shadows onto the snow-covered ground, their crimson glow painting Mabyaku's face with a sinister hue. Yuka sat on the opposite side of the makeshift camp, her eyes fixed on the meager meal that lay between them. It was hardly enough to keep them going, yet it was all they had managed to gather during their arduous trek through the wilderness.

Gazing across the small circle of warmth that separated them, Yuka could no longer hold back the rising storm within her. The silence between them had grown oppressive, a tangible barrier that seemed to push her further away from the enigmatic High Elf Lord with every passing moment. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as she mustered the courage to confront him.

"Enough!" she blurted out, her green eyes flashing with anger. "How can you just sit there in silence, after everything you've done? You attacked us at Ulp's inn, nearly killed my brother, and took us captive! And then... telling me all those things you did to my family over the years... Why won't you even speak to me?"

Mabyaku remained impassive, his multihued hair shimmering like an ethereal curtain around his ageless face. He met her gaze without flinching, his stoicism only fueling her frustration further.

"Is it so hard for you to say something?" she continued, her voice shaking with emotion. "Anything at all? We've been together every day, walking through this forsaken wilderness, and you have barely said more than a few words!"

"Yuka," he finally replied, his voice cold and distant. "I understand your anger, but I cannot change what has happened."

"Can't or won't?" she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. "Tell me, Mabyaku, what kind of person does such things? What kind of person hurts those they claim to care for?"

"Sometimes, we do what we must," he said cryptically, avoiding her question.

"Must?" Yuka scoffed. "You didn't have to do any of it! You chose to!"

"Yuka, you cannot possibly understand the weight of my decisions or the reasons behind them," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Then help me understand!" she pleaded, her anger giving way to desperation. "I want to know why, Mabyaku. I need to know."

He looked away, unable to meet her searching gaze. The silence stretched between them once more, growing heavier with each passing second. Finally, Mabyaku rose to his feet and turned his back on her.

"Perhaps... another time," he murmured, his tone inscrutable. With that, he walked away from the camp, leaving Yuka alone with her thoughts.

As she lay down on the cold ground, Yuka felt a small measure of relief at having spoken her mind. But deep inside, the unease remained – a gnawing doubt that threatened to consume her. As sleep claimed her, she could only hope that one day she would find the answers she sought.

The first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy, casting a dim glow over the makeshift campsite. Yuka awoke to the sound of Mabyaku's voice, his usual stoicism making it difficult for her to gauge his mood.

"Yuka, it is time to rise," he said softly, the multihued strands of his hair shimmering in the faint light.

"Already?" she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her body protested at the thought of another long day of travel, but she knew they had no choice but to press on.

"Please tend to the injured," Mabyaku requested, gesturing towards their companions who lay huddled together against the chill. "We must depart soon."

Yuka nodded, suppressing the urge to ask him about their conversation from the night before. Instead, she focused on the task at hand, carefully applying salves and bandages to the wounds of their party members. As she worked, she stole furtive glances at Mabyaku, but he remained distant, his gaze fixed on some far-off point in the forest.

With the injured tended to and breakfast hastily consumed, the group set off once more through the frost-encrusted woodland. The air was crisp and cold, each breath Yuka took stinging her throat and making her chest ache with the effort.

Her thoughts, however, were not on the biting cold or her sore muscles, but rather on the unsettling confrontation she'd had with Mabyaku. She replayed the words over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of his evasive answers and cryptic statements.

"Yuka, watch your step," Mabyaku warned suddenly, his voice cutting through her thoughts like a blade.

Startled, Yuka looked up just in time to see the ground drop away beneath her feet. She stumbled to a halt, barely avoiding a fall into the wide, icy river that now lay before them.

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared out at the treacherous expanse of water. The frozen surface was marred by jagged shards of ice, a testament to the powerful current that surged beneath, "This looks familiar."

"You remember this place?" Mabyaku asked quietly, his eyes reflecting the pale light that shimmered across the river.

Yuka nodded, remembering her earlier crossing with Roshi and her friends with a shudder. They had been four on foot then, driven by hope and desperation as they fled their home in Fēričo. Now, they were burdened by a heavy sled and the weight of uncertainty that clung to them like a shadow.

As Yuka stared at the treacherous expanse before them, fear pooled in her stomach like ice water. The dangers they faced seemed insurmountable, and for the first time since their journey began, she found herself truly questioning whether they could survive the trials that lay ahead.