Selis and Kazimir had been practicing for hours, though neither of them noticed.
Again and again, they soared into the air, Selis guiding him, teaching him to control his wings. With each attempt, it became more natural, his balance steadier, his movements smoother. He had even reached the point where he could let go of her, if only for a while. Still, Selis remained close, always ready to catch him should he falter.
And again, they drifted down to the soft red mushroom cap, their bodies sinking into its cushion-like surface. Selis's wings folded around him, a barrier against the cold wind.
Kazimir's entire body ached. The strain of using his shadow manipulation and weaving had drained him more than he realized. Selis noticed and pulled him close, wrapping him in the warmth of her arms and wings. One hand rested against the side of his head, the other over his chest, holding him as if he might slip away.
Above them, the night stretched vast and endless, scattered with stars. And in the heart of it all, the moon shone down upon them.
Kazimir could feel the cool press of her armor against his back, hear the steady rhythm of her breath. She smelled of sweat and steel, a scent he had known all his life yet never cared for. But with her, it was different. With her, it was the most comforting scent in the world.
"We can continue practice tomorrow," she murmured, sensing his exhaustion.
Kazimir sighed in relief. If he had to go another round, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to stand, let alone fly.
He lay still in Selis's embrace, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his back. Slowly, he reached up, placing his hand over the calloused hand she had resting on his chest. He traced his fingers gently over hers, pale alabaster skin etched with countless silver scars. Then, carefully, he intertwined their fingers.
He could feel her callouses.
Her hand dwarfed his. Strong, scarred, and calloused, it was the hand of a knight, a hand that had wielded swords, felled enemies, and endured a lifetime of hardship. And yet, in this moment, it held him with the gentleness of a giant cradling fragile glass.
As he lay there, his thoughts drifted back to their journey. The steep climb, the hours spent ascending to this place. And then he thought.
"Why didn't we just fly up here?" he asked, tilting his head toward her.
Selis was silent for a moment, gazing up at the night sky. Then she answered, her voice soft.
"Yes, I could have flown. But you couldn't."
She ran her fingers through his dark hair, her touch soothing.
"Flying doesn't just take skill," she explained. "It takes energy. A lot of it. And as you're feeling now, it drains you quickly. Walking was the better option."
Kazimir frowned. "But the climb took a lot of effort."
"Yes," she admitted. "But flying upwards takes even more. It's far easier to drift down than to fly your way up."
She continued stroking his hair, and the conversation faded into a comfortable silence.
Then she gently stroked his hair, and they were left gazing at the night sky.
Fireflies danced around them, their soft golden light flickering like fallen stars. The hum of their wings filled the air, blending with the distant rustling of leaves.
Kazimir's eyelids grew heavy.
He could feel Selis's firm yet gentle hands holding him close. Could feel the warmth of her wings wrapped securely around him. And the warmth of her breath on his hair.
The fireflies' glow blurred as sleep pulled at him, lulling him deeper into the embrace of night.
And just before darkness fully claimed him, again, he could have sworn he felt the faintest brush of lips against the top of his head.