A Memorable Trip

You, a newborn phoenix who opposed its end
Crossing through the great, silver gates  
Alongside him, who is neither foe nor friend
Dear Eva, A new world awaits

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A sound akin to spattering waters and trudging waves mingled with the silence. The rain played a soothing song as the thunder cracked from time to time.

A soft, silky blanket draped against her thin dress and flesh. Handkerchiefs flew towards her like petals carried by the wind, and tears rained from their eyes.

All of a sudden, a wooden object slammed shut, then a voice pierced through. "They have left. You can open your eyes now," Ferdinand said before taking a last peek out of the window and locking it shut.

"Try to keep quiet. We have yet to get out of the castle's vicinity," the man added.

Inside the small and crowded carriage, she gently rose—covered with sweat while bouncing as the vehicle wheeled through the track. She slid her legs down the coffin-like bed as tingles went up her bare feet from the trembling floorboards.

She looked down as the ashen strands of her hair cascaded to her shoulders. The whiff of sweat-drenched fabric tangled with eccentric perfumes clung to her clothes.

"Where's the other guy? Isn't he supposed to come with us?" she asked in a sullen tone.

"He's far gone on a different stagecoach. We hope that he will keep the intruder's eyes away from us."

"So he took the fancy kind of carriage... Lucky."

The man sat opposite of Eva with his chest puffed and his luggage resting on his lap. His smooth chin pecked his neck as his eyes gazed down on his journal, unfazed by the constant wobbling of the cart.

The wheels crunched all the pebbles that it encountered as it slowly made its way through the gravel-like road.

Eva's grim face would not fade. She drooped on her seat while fiddling with her fingers.

"That man... He loved the princess so much. The king will do anything for her. But they don't know that she's already dead," she mumbled to the dead air—silence had overtaken the carriage.

The quietness that she feared so much resonated in her ears, producing a faint ringing. It was the same silence that forced her to think and slip into the darkest depths of her mind. She would do everything to break it, to crush the grip of guilt in her heart.

"Why are you thinking about that all of a sudden. I thought your sole goal is to be alive, and that's it."

Eva bit her lip. She buried her face in her palms as a series of deep breaths streamed out of her lungs. "That's true—but what happens next? Will you tell them the truth? Will you keep my secret forever? Would you let them hurt for the rest of their lives, unable to move on? That feels like something a monster would do, something I would do."

The man kept his eyes on his book as he shook his head. "Deal with your own troubles, and I will deal with mine. If you want to expose yourself, I won't stop you. But we will no longer protect you if your secret comes out."

"H-how do you do that? How can you live with the constant blame? How can you keep yourself sane after all the lies and deception?" she said, breaking her voice. A tear streamed down her pale face and to the edge of her lips. She wiped it before the man gazed up at her.

Her feelings had swallowed her. The bottled regret and bitterness overflowed and came out. The funny thing about them was they never disappear. They're the only bonds that even death couldn't sever, and frankly, the ones that haunt their nightmares. People hide them, always ashamed. Eva and Ferdinand were no different, and they both knew it.

"It's true that I lied to your Father and forced you to tell the truth. If you want me to apologize, I will. But don't expect me to try and rewrite my actions. I did it, understanding the consequences. I'm sure you know that the fact that you are safe here right now is because of me."

Eva couldn't get a word out from his mouth. Her tongue edged back, and her face pointed down. "That's fair. But likewise, don't expect me to say thank you. I owe you nothing."

Ferdinand gazed up from his book, and for a moment, the frames of his lips curved before going back to their usual form.

Time went by as they followed the path of the moon. She began to wish that there was at least a window beside her, but it was too dangerous for Ferdinand to allow. Instead, she imagined the bright, beautiful stars in her little mind. It helped her calm down and to regain composure.

Hours passed, and the clock kept ticking. "I've been meaning to ask. May I borrow one of your books? I've seen you carrying them a while ago," she asked.

"The books are academic journals in medicinal sorcery. I'll lend them to you if you're interested."

"I have nothing to do, so why not."

Ferdinand scanned his bag and pulled a book. He handed it to Eva, and she placed it on her lap.

The writings were more or less familiar. Some letters were recognizable, but some appeared like scribbles from Eva's perspective. Her mother kept books written in various languages and systems, so deciphering it wouldn't be the most problematic task she had to face.

A few more minutes had passed before she finally understood the first sentence.

"Sorcery—a neophyte's guide," she whispered to herself.

After that, she flipped the next page, not bothering to read the excessive descriptions below.

Sorcery, as defined by — is the technique of utilizing Aither to manipulate, create, and shape the world through methodical means.

She leaned her face closer to the book, and the musky, piquant smell of the old pages resonated in her nose.

Sorcery is governed by innate and logical rules that provide a distinction between what is possible and absurd.

She read slower than a two-year-old, as sluggish as the carriage traveled. Her lips moved, striving to verbalize each word, weaving the ideas into a coherent concept.

Rule Number One—all sorcery-related skills fall into the Hexadic System of Techniques.

She squinted her eyes and tilted her head. I've never heard of that one before.

Rule Number Two—Sorcery can only do what nature permits: thus no reviving of the dead, no creating something from nothing, and no bending of natural laws.

She scoffed. "No reviving of the dead huh?"

Rule Number Three—the Aither, which is the core of sorcery, is only controllable by the one that owns it. Thus, manipulating the Aither in the atmosphere or the one that came from other people is regarded as impossible.

As she continued her decoding, the sound of the heavy rain soothed a bit. She paid no attention and proceeded to flip more pages.

Laws are put in place by the country's governments to control the use of sorcery. These laws are —

Her immersion in the text broke, seeing Ferdinand bring down his book from the corner of her eyes. What is he doing?

He gently stood from his seat, steadying himself as the carriage rocked up and down. Ferdinand crept to her side with an alarmed look on his face.

Eva yelled, "What the crap are you doing—"

The man put his clammy hands over her mouth while his other gripped the wall to prevent himself from falling.

Eva brought down the heavy book as she unconsciously grasped the fabrics of her dress. She slowly reached for her sleeve with her fingers soaked and quivering.

"We're being followed. Don't make a sound," he whispered.

Eva took a big gulp. The warmth of his breath caressed the sides of her cheeks.

"What are we going to do?"

"Survive," he whispered calmly. Ferdinand leaned his face away and dove down to his bag. He sat back on the chair and raised his palm, gesturing her to wait.

In fear, Eva drew the poisoned arrow resting on her arm. She unsheathed the white cloth around it as Ferdinand's eyes bulged out.

"That's the arrow that they shot from the window. How long have you had that?" he asked in a soft voice.

"I snatched it while you were talking to the king."

"That is an immediate kill poison. Don't use it if you don't have to ... Also, this isn't necessary, but I feel like I should say. Be careful"

She nodded. Her face bathed in sweat. But unlike her, Ferdinand maintained his graceful bearing and poise. He combed his hair with his right hand while he ironed his clothes with the other. The man crossed his legs and extended his arms forward.

His mystical thin cords made their way out of his coat and began to roam the small carriage. The thread webbed out across the cramped room while his eyes glowed in green.

Is he setting up a trap? Eva thought, frozen in her seat.

She clenched on the little dart as she drowned on her own breath. Don't panic. Her teeth gnawed, and her jaw scraped at each other as she strived to rid her trembling.

Suddenly, the vehicle halted on its tracks. Not long after, the ceiling came crashing down.