Lyra

The air was thick with tension. Not the kind you could cut with a knife—it was heavier than that, pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Finn's words kept playing in my head. I could still hear the crack in his voice when he said it: "She saved me."

I hadn't thought about that day in years. I didn't want to.

The campfire crackled softly, but it didn't bring the comfort it usually did. Finn was sitting on a fallen log, a little further from the rest of us than normal, his face turned toward the stars. The shadows played across his features, making him look older than he was.

I turned my attention to the fire, the orange flames licking at the air, their glow reflecting in the crystal tucked safely into my lap. It felt like it was pulsing softly, almost in time with my heartbeat.

"Lyra?"

Alex's voice startled me. I looked up to see him staring at me, concern etched on his face. He must've noticed how tense I was.

"I'm fine," I lied, my voice steadier than I expected.

Alex didn't push, but his gaze lingered before he shifted back toward Kai, who was sketching something in the dirt with a stick.

I wasn't fine. How could I be?

I could still see the creature's eyes in my mind—huge, yellow, and filled with rage. The way its claws raked across the earth as it charged. The sound of its growl still sent chills down my spine. And Finn...

He had looked so different back then. His hair had been long and unruly, and he'd been wearing this old, oversized jacket that made him seem smaller than he was. I hadn't even known his name when I found him. He was just another person running for their life.

I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. I hadn't hesitated that day. There hadn't been time to. I'd picked up the closest weapon I could find—a rusted pipe—and swung it with everything I had. I didn't stop until the creature lay motionless at my feet, its blood staining the ground.

He hadn't said a word at first, just stared at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. It wasn't until later, after we'd found shelter, that he thanked me.

"I don't even know who I am anymore," he'd said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I'd told him it didn't matter. That we were all just trying to survive. But now, hearing him talk about it after all this time, I realized how much that moment had shaped both of us.

"Lyra."

Finn's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was standing now, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Can we talk?"

I nodded and followed him a little ways from the fire. The air was cooler away from the flames, and the quiet felt almost oppressive.

"I didn't mean to bring that up earlier," he said, his eyes fixed on the ground. "It just... came out."

"It's fine," I said quickly, but he shook his head.

"No, it's not. I should've asked you if you were okay with it first. That day... it wasn't easy for either of us."

I studied him for a moment, the firelight flickering in his brown eyes. "You don't have to apologize, Finn. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I didn't mean to make you relive it."

He looked up then, his gaze steady. "I'm glad you did what you did, Lyra. You saved me—not just from that creature, but from myself. I don't think I'd have figured out who I really am if it weren't for you."

His words hit me harder than I expected. I'd spent so much time running from that memory, trying to bury it under everything else, that I hadn't realized how much it had meant to him.

"Thanks," I said softly, not trusting myself to say more.

We stood there for a while, the silence between us comfortable for the first time in what felt like forever.

But as I looked at him, standing tall and confident in the person he'd become, I realized something else.

Mother Nature wasn't just showing us our pasts to dredge up old wounds. She was reminding us of who we were—of the choices we'd made that had brought us here. And maybe, just maybe, she was trying to show us who we could become.

For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.