Niam

NIAM

D awn mist curled between Serra’s herb beds as I knelt one last time in the garden. My fingers brushed familiar leaves. Each plant held memories now: teaching the children, learning from Serra, finding my strength again among these quiet green things.

“The herbs will still grow, even if you’re not here to tend them.” Serra’s practical voice carried more gentleness than usual. She pressed a leather packet into my hands. “Dried medicines. For the journey.”

I clutched the package, breathing in the mingled scents. “Thank you. For everything.”

She squeezed my shoulder, then turned briskly toward the courtyard where the wagon waited. Her practical movements didn’t quite hide her emotions.

The wagon itself surprised me - larger than I’d expected, with a curved canvas cover and comfortable benches inside. Cushions softened the wooden seats, and supplies were neatly packed beneath. Small gifts from the families filled hidden corners - dried fruits from the Wickes, leather-bound books from the Randalls, tiny carved good-luck tokens from the children.

Mila stood beside the wagon, trying too hard to look calm. “The trade agreements are settled. And Ashur and I will visit within the month to finalize-”

I pulled her in closer, cutting off her attempt at business-like distance. She clung back just as tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“Me too.” My throat tightened. “But we’re free now. We can visit whenever we want.”

She laughed wetly against my shoulder. “Look at us - crying like we’ll never see each other again instead of celebrating.”

“Why not both?”

Tharon’s hand settled warm on my back as the courtyard filled with familiar faces. The twins carried our last supplies while their mother directed traffic with her usual efficiency. Maya Wick’s grandchildren darted between adults’ legs, faces streaked with early-morning jam. The Randalls’ leather workers stood in a solemn line, each bearing some small token of luck or protection.

“Ready?” Tharon’s voice carried worry he tried to hide.

I touched the leather packet of herbs, looked around at the tannery’s weathered walls that had sheltered me. “Yes.”

He lifted me into the wagon with careful hands, though I needed the help less each day. Denna was already settled on one bench, her growing belly just starting to show beneath her traveling clothes. She shot me an encouraging smile.

As we pulled away, children ran alongside the wagon, throwing flower petals and calling goodbyes. Their laughter carried on the morning breeze - free, unafraid. And now they’d grow up that way, I hoped.

Mila and Ashur rode with us until the first milestone marker, their horses flanking the wagon like an honor guard. Business-like discussions of trade routes and diplomatic arrangements couldn’t quite mask the emotion in their voices.

I watched Terr’s walls shrink behind us, the Temple’s broken spires stark against the sky. Strange, how a place that had been my entire world for so long now looked so small.

“Look ahead,” Tharon murmured. “Not back.”

I turned in my seat. The road stretched before us, winding toward distant mountains. Trees I’d only seen in archives spread their branches overhead. A breeze carried scents I’d never smelled before - wild herbs, sun-warmed earth, the green smell of growing things.

Mila reined her horse alongside the wagon. “Last chance to change your mind about the trade contracts.”

“Never.” I reached for her hand. “But come visit soon? And bring news?”

“Try to stop me.” She leaned over to hug me, then straightened in her saddle. “Besides, someone has to make sure the mighty prince of Zashi treats you properly.”

Tharon’s growl held no heat. We’d all grown used to each other’s ways during my recovery.

The final goodbyes were quick - we’d already said everything that mattered. I watched Mila and Ashur until they disappeared around a bend in the road, heading back to the city they’d helped free.

“They’ll be fine,” Denna said softly. “We all will.”

I nodded, my throat so tight I couldn’t speak. Tharon’s hand found mine, warm and steady. Ahead, the mountains beckoned with the promise of a new home.

The wagon’s gentle sway took some getting used to. Denna showed me how to brace against the motion, laughing when a particularly rough bump sent cushions sliding.

“You should have seen my first time in a wagon,” she said. “Korrin thought I was going to be sick all over his boots.”

He snorted from his position riding alongside. “You did get sick all over my boots.”

“Yes, well.” She smoothed her skirts with dignity. “I got better.”

Small moments like this still caught me off guard - the easy companionship, the shared laughter. Here under the open sky, even our small group felt like family.

Tharon rode on my side of the wagon, close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. Sometimes I did, just because I could. His eyes softened each time, though he maintained his alert watch of our surroundings.

The countryside unfolded around us like a living archive. Trees I’d only seen in technical drawings spread their branches overhead. Strange flowers dotted the grasslands in patches of purple and gold.

“Oh!” I grabbed the wagon’s side as a flock of kilauan took flight from a nearby cliff.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Tharon reined his mount closer. “It’s good luck to see them.”

I watched them wheel overhead, remembering dry Temple texts that had reduced such wonders to simple data. How wrong they’d been, trying to catalog magic.

We made camp that first night in a sheltered valley. Tharon insisted on helping me down from the wagon, though my legs were stronger now. I found that I didn’t mind.

“Alright?” he asked softly.

“Better than alright.” I touched his cheek. “I’m free.”

His smile sparked warmth inside me. He'd been so careful since my recovery, as if afraid I might shatter.

But I felt stronger with each passing hour, more present in my own skin.

That first dinner under the stars felt like a feast, though it was just trail bread and dried meat. Conversation flowed easily - Denna sharing stories of adjusting to Wanderer life, Korrin’s quiet corrections making her laugh, Tharon adding details about places we’d pass on our journey.

But what I remember most was looking up. No walls, no ceiling, just endless stars wheeling overhead. I’d seen them before, of course. But this felt different - my first night truly free under their light.

“The star-paths are clearer in the mountains,” Tharon said, following my gaze. “Each constellation tells a story of our people. I’ll teach you, if you’d like.”

I leaned against his shoulder, breathing in the night air. “I’d like that.”

Later, in our tent, he helped me settle onto the sleeping furs. Everything still tired me more quickly than I liked, but each day brought more strength.

“Sleep,” he rumbled, stroking my forehead. “Long journey tomorrow.”

I caught his hand before he could move away. “Stay close?”

His expression softened as he curled around me, careful of his greater size. His warmth seeped into my bones, chasing away the night’s chill. The beast’s gentle purr vibrated through his chest, soothing as a lullaby.

The next few days fell into an easy rhythm. Mornings found us breaking camp as dawn painted the sky in impossible colors. I learned to help with small tasks - rolling sleeping furs, banking cooking fires, checking the wagon’s wheels. Each new skill felt like a victory, another step toward self-reliance.

On the fourth day, as evening settled around us, Tharon drew his mount closer to the wagon. His voice dropped low, meant only for me. “By tomorrow afternoon we’ll be at the Crossroads Inn.”

I smiled, remembering our last stay there. “Where we first...”

“Where I first held you properly.” His eyes darkened. “This time there won’t be any Temple guards to worry about. No rebellion to plan.” He reached across to brush my cheek. “Just us.”

A flush of heat raced through me at his tone. “Just us?”

“Denna and Korrin will take the eastern road to rejoin their people.” His thumb traced my jawline. “We’ll have time to ourselves before the journey to Zashi.”

The promise in his voice made my heart race. “Time for what?”

His smile held heat and tenderness in equal measure. “Time for me to show my mate exactly how precious she is to me. Without interruption.”