The forest finally opened into a small clearing.
The air smelled damp, faintly of crushed stone and leaf mold. Evidence of the boa fight lingered everywhere—branches snapped like brittle bones, grass crushed flat in wide arcs, the earth still holding the memory of something enormous passing through it.
Lyra led them in carefully, testing the ground before choosing a patch of firmer soil. Only when she was satisfied did she signal for the others to stop.
Selene sank onto the grass at once, hands pressed tight against her chest. Her shoulders trembled—not from cold, but frustration.
"I… I couldn't do anything," she muttered. "I couldn't use my song. I couldn't help."
Lyra knelt in front of her immediately. "You did help," she said firmly. "You stayed alive. That matters more than you realize."
Selene's green eyes—bright, frustrated, and faintly silver-flecked even now—lifted to meet hers. The tension in her posture didn't ease.
"I could've put it to sleep," Selene whispered.
"Just one note. Maybe it wouldn't have wrapped around you…"
"You didn't need to," Lyra replied, brushing a loose strand of hair from Selene's face. Her thumb lingered there, grounding. "We handled it. You'll have your moment—just not here. Not yet."
Selene huffed softly, unconvinced but unwilling to argue. She rose instead, tending to minor cuts and bruises among the group, her healing light faint but steady.
Rory paced the edge of the clearing, adrenaline still buzzing. "We survived!" he announced. "Did you see me? I totally saved part of you!"
Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, Rory. You were heroic. Now stop swinging sticks before someone bleeds again."
Selene stepped toward Shawn—
Lyra caught her wrist and tugged her gently back down. "That's enough. You're hurt too. And our wounds aren't half as bad as when we fought the bandits."
Shawn rolled his shoulder and gave a small shrug. "She's right. Besides, Elise already patched me up."
He deliberately moved away, giving them space.
Lyra reached into her pack and pulled out a small wrapped bundle. "Elise helped me make this," she said, smoothing a thick herbal paste over Selene's shallow cuts. "It'll keep infection away."
Selene relaxed despite herself.
Then—
Thud.
Everyone froze as Pyn dropped a massive bundle into the clearing. Scales. Meat. The unmistakable curve of something serpentine.
Shawn squinted. "That's… not—"
"Dinner," Pyn said cheerfully, already pulling out a blade. "Congratulations. You're eating boa."
Rory gagged, turning green. "You're joking."
"We are not eating that," Lyra said flatly.
Pyn shrugged and crouched close to the fire—closer than was comfortable. The flames flared, heat licking at her sleeves. She didn't flinch. Didn't even sweat.
"Nature provides. You kill it, you eat it. Unless you plan to starve before reaching the flower—welcome to Avalon."
Elise noticed how close Pyn sat to the flames.
She said nothing.
Later, Rory eyed the meat like it might attack him, then reluctantly took a small bite, grimacing as he swallowed.
and immediately coughed, eyes watering.
"This is still judging me," he croaked.
Shawn burst out laughing. Elise covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. Even Selene let out a surprised giggle.
Lyra tried—failed—to keep a straight face. "Chew before swallowing," she said, voice betraying her.
Pyn smirked. "First time eating apex predator?"
Shawn muttered something about sanitation and morality. Selene nibbled cautiously. Lyra simply watched, bemused and resigned.
Rory glared weakly. "I miss bread."
That did it.
Laughter broke properly then—real, rough, a little hysterical. For a brief moment, the clearing felt warmer than the fire could manage.
As the smell of roasting meat filled the clearing, Pyn leaned back against a tree. "It'll take days to reach the flower," she said casually. "Depends how many breaks you need. And how careful I have to be with… oversized snakes."
Elise raised an eyebrow. "Days? You said we were close."
"Close," Pyn agreed. "By Avalon standards."
After eating, Lyra seized the moment and handed Rory a practice sword. "Then we train," she said. "Every mistake now will cost you later."
Rory straightened eagerly and began running through basic strikes. His grip wobbled.
Pyn watched from the sidelines. "Loosen your shoulders," she called. "You're forcing it."
Lyra shot her a sharp look. "He's my student."
"I'm just observing," Pyn replied lightly. "Advice is free."
Rory giggled and tried copying Pyn's relaxed stance.
Lyra groaned.
Pyn stepped closer to Selene, her eyes catching on a small cut along Selene's arm. "Thought you healed cuts instantly. Why's that still there?"
Selene frowned. "My power works on others. Not me."
Pyn blinked. "…That sucks."
Lyra's attention snapped toward them.
Shawn leaned against a log, smirking. "You look distracted, General. Watching Selene again?"
"I am focused," Lyra snapped, correcting Rory mid-swing.
"Uh-huh," Shawn said. "That's why you missed his footwork."
Elise crouched, examining Rory's stance. "If he keeps moving like that, he'll be easy to knock over. You are distracted."
Lyra stiffened. "I am not—"
"You are," Elise said calmly.
Lyra had no idea why everyone suddenly felt the need to interfere with her teaching.
Rory wobbled as Lyra's correction faltered.
"Focus," Lyra barked—though it wasn't clear who she meant.
Selene offered her a small, apologetic smile. Pyn tilted her head, amused.
"You've got more than one person watching out for you," Pyn murmured to Selene.
Lyra's jaw clenched. "Don't encourage her."
Shawn laughed quietly. "Careful, General. You're getting obvious."
Elise straightened. "Enough. Let him watch. But teach properly—or stop."
Lyra exhaled slowly, centering herself, then demonstrated the stance again. Rory followed, finally steady.
Night settled around them.
Firelight flickered. Laughter returned slowly, cautiously. Shadows pressed close—but for now, they were safe.
Bruised. Irritated. Alive.
And very far from done.