Cackle—! The fire crackled cheerfully as fat from the roasting meat dripped into the flames, sending up tiny bursts of fragrant smoke. The smell alone was enough to make Kael's stomach twist with desperate hunger. Mako had somehow been carrying seasoned cuts of meat, dry firewood, and flint in that seemingly bottomless backpack of his. Now the meat sizzled on a makeshift spit he had rigged from green branches, the scent of herbs and char filling the air between the broken ruins.
"It seems you're quite hungry, Mr.…?" Mako said, raising an eyebrow as he turned the spit with practiced ease. He clearly wanted Kael to fill in the blank.
"Kael," Kael replied automatically, eyes never leaving the browning meat.
"Just Kael?" Mako responded with a playful tilt of his head.
"Omari. Kael Omari."
"Well then, Mister Kael Omari—get ready. You're about to dine on one of the finest cuisines in all of Eryndor and her sister kingdoms." Mako smirked, clearly proud of his cooking skills. Kael watched him closely, cataloging every small movement, every detail, searching for anything suspicious. He found nothing. The stranger moved with calm confidence, not the coiled readiness of someone about to betray him.
There has to be a catch, right? Kael thought. No one was this helpful without a reason. Still, his mouth watered as Mako sliced off a perfectly cooked portion and handed it over on a flat piece of bark that served as a plate.
Kael took the first bite. An explosion of savory, smoky flavor flooded his tongue—juicy, tender, seasoned with something earthy and wild. It was the best thing he had tasted in what felt like a lifetime. He had to force himself not to wolf it down like an animal.
This dude can cook too? Damn. The gods must have cheated when they made him, Kael thought, chewing slowly to savor every bite. He glanced up and caught Mako watching him with quiet amusement.
"Absolutely delicious, am I right?" Mako said, cutting himself a piece. "Did I mention I had to take down a ferocious Thorned Deer for this? Those things are nasty—spikes on their antlers, thick hide, mean temper. But worth it for a meal like this."
Kael nodded between bites, too busy eating to speak much. Mako kept talking, filling the silence with easy chatter about the hunt, the best way to cook venison over open flame, and how the ruins made for surprisingly good windbreaks. Kael listened, answering only when directly asked, still half-waiting for the other shoe to drop.
After they had both eaten their fill—Kael more than he thought his shrunken stomach could handle—Mako leaned back against a broken pillar and stretched his long legs toward the fire.
"You mentioned earlier," Kael began carefully, "that even if I had gone through with stabbing myself, I would have survived. Because of your… tempest attribute."
Mako's expression shifted into something more serious, though the easy smile never fully left his face. "Yeah. That's Nullveil. My tempest attribute quite literally removes the possibility of things rather than the things themselves. Even before you tried to stab yourself, Nullveil showed me a… window, I guess you could call it. A potential future where you died. When I closed that window, I removed the possibility of your death in that moment. Permanently. Even I can't undo it now."
Kael frowned, turning the idea over in his head. "What if I had stabbed myself again right after? Would it have been fatal then?"
"Yes," Mako answered without hesitation. "It would have been fatal if I hadn't closed the window Nullveil presented—or if I hadn't understood the situation well enough for it to appear in the first place."
"So it's not automatic," Kael said slowly. "You have to understand what's happening and actively let Nullveil offer you that window."
"Jackpot." Mako pointed at him with his eating knife. "That's exactly how it works. It's not some all-powerful shield. It's more like… having a really good instinct for danger and the ability to rewrite one specific outcome if I catch it in time."
Kael was quiet for a long moment, staring into the dancing flames. "Why are you telling me all this? What if I betray you later? Use the information against you?"
Mako met his gaze steadily. "You won't."
The simple certainty in his voice left Kael baffled. He opened his mouth, closed it again. No one had ever placed that kind of trust in him before—not without knowing him for years. It made something uncomfortable twist in his chest.
Soon the conversation drifted. Mako poked at the fire with a stick, sending sparks spiraling upward into the still-bright sky. Kael found himself studying the other boy again. There was something genuinely warm about Mako despite the cocky exterior. It made Kael's usual walls feel heavier than usual.
"I never got to ask," Mako said after a while, voice softer. "What in Eryndor brought you to these ruins? Most people with any sense avoid places touched by a tempest will event."
Kael's shoulders tensed. He stared at the fire for several heartbeats before answering. "South of here lay Nimbra. My village. Or what's left of it." His voice came out rougher than he intended. "It was destroyed. Everyone… everyone perished except me."
Mako didn't push. He simply nodded, letting the silence sit without filling it with empty pity. Kael appreciated that more than he could say.
"I heard about it," Mako said eventually. "The High Concord labeled it the Nimbra Rift Event. Their investigators have been crawling over the site for days and still can't determine the cause. The distortion here is… unusual. Stronger than most."
Kael's frown deepened. Talking about it made the memories press closer—screams, fire, the ashen host coming through like a plague. He changed the subject before the pain could swallow him whole.
"What about you? How are you just… walking through these ruins like it's a normal shortcut?"
Mako shrugged. "Nullveil gives me partial immunity to most distortions. The rules bend around me a little. I was passing through the region anyway, trying to cut days off my route to the northern passes. When I heard about Nimbra, I detoured. Tempest will events are where my attribute shines brightest. I figured I might be able to help… or at least learn something."
He hesitated, then added, "I saw you a few hours before I stepped in. Watched you counting, talking to yourself, trying to hold on. I almost approached earlier, but…" He gave a small, rueful smile. "You looked like you needed to fight your own battle first."
Kael felt heat rise in his face—embarrassment mixed with something dangerously close to gratitude. "I wanted to avoid the Ashen Host when they hit the village. Ran here hoping to throw them off my trail. Didn't expect… this." He gestured vaguely at the unchanging sky, the broken stones, the invisible cage.
Mako nodded slowly. "Smart move, even if it didn't work out the way you hoped. The Ashen Host doesn't usually pity survivors. You're lucky. Or maybe more than lucky." His eyes flicked briefly to Kael's shoulder, where the tattoo lay hidden beneath his shirt.
Kael noticed the glance but didn't comment. Instead he asked, "So what's next for you? You're not trapped here like I am."
"I don't think you're as trapped as you believe," Mako said quietly. "But to answer your question—I'll probably keep moving once the distortion thins enough for safe travel. There are other sites like this. Other people who might need help the way you did." He paused, then met Kael's eyes. "You don't have to stay here alone, you know. If you want company… or backup… I'll be here as long as you need."
Kael didn't know how to respond to that. For the first time in days—maybe weeks—he wasn't counting seconds in his head. The constant, gnawing terror had eased just enough for him to breathe without it hurting. He had someone to talk to. Someone who hadn't left him to die.
He cleared his throat. "Sure. I… thanks. For the food. And the water. And… not letting me be an idiot."
Mako's grin returned, bright and uncomplicated. "Anytime, Kael Omari. Though next time you decide to have a dramatic moment with a dagger, maybe give a guy some warning first."
Despite everything, Kael felt the corner of his mouth twitch.
They sat together as the fire burned lower, the perpetual daylight of the distortion casting long shadows that never quite matched the flames. Mako eventually pulled a small, well-worn leather journal from his pack. He flipped it open and began writing with a charcoal stick, his brow furrowed in concentration. Kael watched him for a while, curiosity eventually winning out over caution.
"What are you writing?" he asked.
"Notes," Mako replied without looking up. "Observations about the distortion. How it feels. What it does to time, to the sky, to people. The High Concord pays decent coin for accurate field reports from people who can actually survive these places. Plus…" He shrugged one shoulder. "I like keeping my own record. Helps me understand my own attribute better. Nullveil gets stronger the more I push its limits."
Kael glanced down at his own right shoulder. Even now, beneath the fabric of his shirt, he could feel the faint hum of the tattoo. It had been quiet since Mako arrived, almost as if it recognized something in the other boy.
"Does it ever scare you?" Kael asked after a moment. "Having that kind of power? Knowing you can just… erase someone's death?"
Mako stopped writing. He stared into the fire for a long time before answering. "Every single day. But it scares me more to think about what would happen if I didn't use it when I could. Some people are meant to stand in the fire so others don't have to. I figured out a while ago that I'm one of those people." He looked over at Kael, expression open and honest. "You might be one too, you know. That tattoo on your shoulder… it's not ordinary. I can feel it from here. Whatever happened in Nimbra marked you for something bigger than just surviving."
Kael didn't know what to say to that. He had spent the last five days convinced he was nothing but a failure who couldn't even keep a simple promise to a dead woman. The idea that he might be meant for anything felt like a cruel joke.
But sitting here, with real food in his belly, cold water still cooling his throat, and another person's voice in his ears instead of his own spiraling thoughts… it was hard to hold onto the worst of the darkness.
Mako closed his journal and tucked it away. "You should sleep. You look like you haven't in days. I'll keep watch. Nullveil makes me a decent sentry."
Kael wanted to argue—old habits of distrust died hard—but exhaustion hit him like a physical weight the moment the offer was made. He nodded, pulled the thin cloth Mako had lent him closer around his shoulders, and lay down near the fire. The ground was still hard. The sky was still that mocking, unchanging blue. But for the first time since the world had ended, Kael didn't feel completely alone.
As sleep finally claimed him, his last conscious thought was simple and startlingly peaceful.
Maybe… just maybe… I can keep going after all.