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Kenji and Aiko were waiting. Beside them stood the quiet young wolf who trailed Aiko like a shadow, watchful and silent as ever.

Kenji and Blaidd exchanged a glance.

Nothing was said aloud, yet understanding passed between them all the same—respect and a shared acknowledgement of the danger ahead and who was important.

Blaidd released Fae's hand and stepped closer to the gate. His twin axes were strapped to his back. Fae remembered how he had held her close and told her they were the best gift he had ever received and that they had seen him through many a battle. That he considered them his lucky charms. And now that she knew he had never used the pretentious sword that was Isolde's bride-gift, it made her feel a little smug inside.

The villagers lingered nearby, observing quietly. This was not a place for loud displays of affection, even hand holding was rare. Young people stood a careful distance apart, their posture composed, their expressions restrained by etiquette laid down by tradition.

But Blaidd did not care about their rules. He turned back to Fae and pulled her into his arms.

He lifted her effortlessly until her face was level with his. Her arms slid instinctively around his neck, fingers tangling in the short bristles at the back of his head. They scratched lightly against her skin, leaving a faint reddened patch as she held on.

Then his mouth found hers.

The kiss was deep and unrestrained, silencing the world around them. It held urgency, longing, and a fierce promise all at once. He kissed her as though memorising her, as though carrying the taste of her with him into whatever lay ahead. Her fingers pressed into his flesh, her breath frozen inside her as she clung to the moment, unwilling to let it pass.

When he finally pulled back, it was slow and reluctant.

He lowered her gently to the ground, but did not let go. He held her close for another long moment, arms tight around her as though imprinting the feel of her into memory.

Then, with visible effort, he released her and turned swiftly toward the gate.

Gramm fell into step beside him, and Sulien followed.

Ruri stood ready a short distance away. Though the bond between her and Sulien remained unfulfilled, she had chosen to travel north with them. She spoke to no one, her sharp eyes missing nothing. A crossbow rested across her back, and a small pack hung at her side. Sulien tried to take it from her, but she responded with a sharp punch to his arm.

Haruko-san and his wife approached Ruri together.

They embraced her warmly. Haruko-san's wife pressed a cloth-wrapped box into her hands, smiling gently.

"Your favourite daifuku," she said, smoothing her hair with a soft hand. The stoic Ruri seemed close to tears before she gathered her composure around herself like a cloak. Sulien's attempt to put an arm around her was swiftly rebuffed with a slap to his wandering hand.

The farewell felt quiet and restrained, yet no less heartfelt.

Beyond the gates, the road stretched north. And Fae watched them disappear into the wilderness, not knowing what came next.

***

The days when Blaidd was here in the village seemed to pass too fast, but now that they were gone, time seemed to drag for Fae.

She followed her routine almost mechanically over the next month.

She rose before dawn. Boiled water for her tea and ate rice cakes without tasting them. Braided her hair tightly. Walked the now-familiar path to the workshop with feet that brought her there without thought. She worked until her shoulders burned and her palms blistered. She returned home exhausted enough to sleep. Only in her dreams did Blaidd visit her. They only held each other, and he talked to her. The fine lines that bracketed his mouth seemed deeper, his face thinner, but he still told her things were fine.. And the next day she would repeat the same routine, living for the next dream.

There was comfort in repetition.

The village had only one phone, kept in the administrative office near the gates. Messages came through it at irregular intervals for her—short, restrained updates carried across the ocean.

"Am fine."

"Tracking Eira."

"No trace yet."

Her mind was rarely in the workshop when those messages arrived. Even when her hands were steady, a part of her was elsewhere—far north, in colder lands, where black arts were threatening her family. But she had promised Blaidd she would stay.

She completed a storage box without any embellishment. But this one, unlike her first, had clean joints and snapped shut almost seamlessly. Haruko-san nodded once.